Halloween is a time of year when, traditionally, the boundaries between the living and the dead diminish. In ancient Celtic times the departed were believed to be repositories of great wisdom which, during Halloween, they would return each year to share with their descendants.
Technology has not quite advanced sufficiently to resurrect the dead. Nevertheless Colossal Biosciences, a company based in Dallas, has stated its aim is to “de-extinct” the woolly mammal and other species. It expects its first woolly mammal cubs to be born in 2028. If successful, then perhaps in a decade’s time we will then face the ethical quandary of resurrecting a human.
But today, can technology virtually resurrect humans?
The “Be Right Back” episode of Black Mirror, a speculative near-future television series, tells a story of a widow signing up for an artificial intelligence service that mimics her dead husband. The incarnation is trained by the deceased’s social media posts and accordingly adopts memories and the persona.
In July 2021 the San Francisco Chronicle documented the true experiences of freelance writer Joshua Barbeau, who lost his fiancee to liver disease. By chance he then discovered a text-based chatbot website that allows you to customise its behaviour. He uploaded a synopsis of her life and some archived text messages. The system duly adopted her personality, apparently faithfully chatting to him despite his initial scepticism and his trying to maintain emotional distance. There were tremendous similarities to her banter, in both content and rhythm. It showed empathy both for the pain of her death and gratitude for how he was honouring her life, albeit all just in text on his computer screen.
But how about visual representations of the dead? Projections in 3D have been used to create realistic avatar concerts. One of the first was the 2012 reincarnation at the Coachella Music Festival of the rapper Tupac Shakur, murdered in 1996. His image performed “live” with (living) rappers Dr Dre and Snoop Dogg. Michael Jackson (died 2009), Roy Orbison (died 1988), Whitney Houston (died 2012) and others have all been virtually recreated in concerts, and in some cases even touring.
Ed Asner, the late actor, thus appeared virtually during his memorial service to answer questions about his life from relatives and friends
But can you interact with a projected image? Los Angeles-based start-up StoryFile goes part of the way there by offering conversational video services. You provide the system with a number of short video sequences, each addressing or answering one of a number of suggested questions or points. Subsequently, a speech recognition subsystem analyses questions spoken to the service, which then automatically selects and replays the most appropriate video clip back in reply. One application is to build a digital legacy that can respond to questions about your life, for your descendants. Ed Asner, the late actor, thus appeared virtually during his memorial service to answer questions about his life from relatives and friends.
Unlike a chatbot, StoryFile does not construct its own replies, and is not using AI to create answers. Could 3D avatars be combined with chatbot technology so that a virtual resurrection could be both visually engaging and credibly responsive? I believe it inevitable. A number of companies already enable you to design and build your own speaking avatar, such as elai, synthesia and bhuman. There are also various YouTube videos showing how to roll your own using free software tools.
Would it be creepy to talk to an avatar that faithfully impersonates and captures the personality of a dead partner, relative or friend?
Being able to easily produce photorealistic avatars derived from images and videos of real people was one of the flashpoints of the recent Hollywood actors’ strike. London-based start-up Metaphysic is now assisting individuals to copyright their digital face, voice and performance, although such copyrights have yet to be tested in the courts.
The core technologies to build a photorealistic, interactive and talking avatar for your relatives and descendants are already widely available. Given sufficient archival material from, for example, social media posts, it is also now also possible to resurrect a digital 3D chatting avatar of a dead loved one.
Would it be creepy to talk to an avatar that faithfully impersonates and captures the personality of a dead partner, relative or friend? The mother of Barbeau’s fiancee avoided reading the chat transcript, while her sister felt it an unhealthy way of coping with death. She asked what if the chatbot became inaccessible – would there then be a second grieving but this time for an AI?
In fact, the precise situation has already arisen. Alabama-based start-up Intellitar promised its customers digital eternity via crafted avatars, but then itself died in 2012, going out of business after just two years and with a claimed 10,000 signed-up users.
The boundaries between the living and the dead are indeed diminishing. We need great wisdom to navigate the consequences.
