As we're compelled to capture, store and share more and more of our personal information, there's something we often forget. All that data doesn't just disappear when our physical bodies shuffle off this mortal coil. If the concept of remaining socially active after you're no longer breathing sounds crazy, you might want to get used to the idea. Digital afterlives are a natural consequence of the information age, a reality that barely anyone has prepared for - and that 'anyone' probably includes you.
In All the Ghosts in the Machine, psychologist Elaine Kasket sounds a clarion call to everyone who's never thought about death in the digital age. When someone's hyperconnected, hyperpersonal digital footprint is transformed into their lasting legacy, she asks, who is helped, who is hurt, and who's in charge? And why is now such a critical moment to take our heads out of the sand?
Weaving together personal, moving true stories and scientific research, All the Ghosts in the Machine takes you on a fascinating tour through the valley of the shadow of digital death. In the process, it will transform how you think about your life and your legacy, in a time when our technologies are tantalising us with fantasies of immortality.
Elaine Kasket, Psy.D., is a Counselling Psychologist, speaker and writer who has studied the juxtaposition of death and the digital since 2006. She has contributed to multiple stories on this topic in TV, radio, print and online media, to include pieces for the BBC, Radio 4, Channel 4 News, the Canadian Broadcasting Company, and Psychology Today. All the Ghosts in the Machine is her first book for general audiences, following a decade of more academic writing on the subject. Originally from the U.S., Elaine now lives with her family in London, where she produces the Mortified stage show, acts as the Bereavement Lead for the Digital Legacy Association, and maintains a busy psychotherapy practice.
I hope to write a full review of this at some point, but for now I'll say this was fascinating, informative and (sadly) very, very relatable. This book covers many topics from the law surrounding digital legacies to the very human psychology of grief. I lost a very close friend earlier in the year. In the last few years our friendship had been almost entirely digital (first while I was abroad and then we lived opposite sides of the country). It's been tough (understatement) to get my head around the fact she's gone while still being able to scroll through my messages and see her name there. So I can relate to the experiences of many of the people Kasket interviewed. Fantastic book!
I came to this book from the world of palliative care. I was interested in digital legacies of how people and their families choose to be remembered - and what that might mean for the people we support. It was a professional interest that intersected with a personal one.
What I’ve taken from All the Ghosts in the Machine though is so much more. It’s made me think about how I live my life now, the choices that I make for myself and for others - including others that haven’t even been conceived yet.
I am a digital immigrant. Despite embracing social networking sites over the last decade, recently I’ve been feeling less and less comfortable about sharing my life online. My husband and I have started moving towards living experiences rather than documenting them and leaving the digital world out of it. That’s our personal choice. I wonder if we’re the last generation to think like this?
This book has a lot of the familiar about it. The stories are relatable even if you’ve never heard or considered them. Elaine’s storytelling style introduces complex topics while at the same time creating investment in people’s lives, adding context to a situation to allow you to really understand the ideas she’s exploring. It’s thought provoking, engaging and touching.
Some of the situations and concepts explored are shocking and, for want of a better word, horrifying. Through reading, I’ve been motivated to further examine my digital artifacts and think about what I’d like me digital legacy to be. It’s also challenged a lot of my assumptions and I’ve made some changes as a result.
Above all though, it’s reinforced my professional views. That everything we do during dying, death and bereavement needs to be personal. What suits one person or family won’t suit another. As the number of memorialised profiles on sites like Facebook start to outweigh the living ones, as is a very real future scenario, we need to ensure people are aware of their choices around both privacy and legacy. A policy, a process or even a law won’t necessarily fix that. Perhaps though, talking about it, communicating, having a conversation with loved ones about what you’d want, and advance planning, might.
I highly recommend it and I hope everyone reads it!
Everyday multiple pictures of my recently deceased dog appear in my Facebook feed, as he was such a big part of our lives since before I even signed up for FB. Sometimes I think FB is evil for this, and sometimes I think it’s beautiful. How would you feel to see someone you’ve lost appear like a ghost with your morning coffee? Have you thought about it? Elaine Kasket has written a terrific book on the subject. I never thought about what would happen to my “digital assets,” as she calls them after I die, I’ll bet you haven’t either. Elaine makes a compelling case for why we should. Full of examples of horrors and unintended consequences in the digital age it forces us to face our own mortality and strongly consider getting our affairs, both online and off together, if we care at all about those we would leave behind. Why should you read a book about death? Because it’s about life and therein lies the paradox.
Interesting book! Made me reflect on my digital footprint - whether carrying on expanding my searches on Google or even continuing using Goodreads ahaha
Elaine Kasket explored different stories of experiencing grief and dealing with the deceased's online presence. I was especially intrigued and impressed by the 'I Love Alaska' project based on a leaked search result of an anonymous user.
After I have read this book, I have appointed my brother as my Legacy Contact on Facebook, did some thinking about my digital will - what I wanted to do with social media and files on my laptop. Still haven't reached a conclusion tho...
In the final chapter, Kasket gave ten tips including: read the websites' T&Cs, think about the others (how they would feel about your decisions about dealing with your data, be proud of your curated digital content/data. Most importantly live your best life, cherish and value the good and bad things that you experienced.
I have long been interested in how death is mediated online. Occasional stories crop up about receiving Facebook ‘Year in Reviews’ with the images of dead friends, or more challenging tales about trying to access digital data from deceased loved ones. Quite simply the complexities of our digital afterlives are poorly understood. Labyrinths of information, layers of passwords, and a host of legal contradictions regarding ownership, jurisdiction, and user agreements. I have previously toyed with this in the way my kids created an online pet cemetery in Minecraft.
One thing is for sure, even the most disinterested and lightest of users of digital technology will have a sizeable digital footprint. This digital footprint is something that people may well want to exercise some form of control over. Yet very few are prepared to do so. This is the context in which Elaine Kasket writes, leading the reader to consider a host of issues that are problematic, emotionally compelling, and unavoidable.
Consider the following issues, who will inherit your iTunes library once you die? It might be simple to pass on physical books, but who has the right to your digital texts? How would you manage the social media feeds of a recently deceased spouse, or child? What privacy would the dead expect, and what level of control would others demand? This all gets more complex when we consider that the information (or data) that is posted online tends to have mixed ownership. Photos of friends might well relate ownership not just to who is in them, but who took the photo. Private messages are also a legacy of communication between at least two people and thus cannot simply be rendered to a third party after death. Or can they?
Much of this book deals with a variety of interesting case studies that introduce us to the problems many have faced in dealing with a digital legacy. As the book progresses we turn more towards the provisions, strategies, and businesses that are emerging to tackle digital life beyond death, or ‘death tech’. Some of this tackles themes from pop-culture films and television like the Black Mirror episode ‘Be Right Back’.
The book closes with ten helpful suggestions regarding the management of your own digital legacy. Each of these points is fleshed out earlier in the text in considerable detail, but are turned toward the reader in conclusion. One of Kasket’s messages is to think seriously about what you might want preserved. What digital content represents you, what content would you like your legacy to be?
All this made me think of my Tumblr blog. This is perhaps the greatest resource of ideas and interests that I place online. Less personal than my old Facebook profile, which I eventually deleted, but far more a product of my own creativity than much of my other social media. Even Instagram has become mediated more by who follows me than what I really want to post… My academic work also orients to a particular perspective and tone, so while my publications are a legacy they are a peer reviewed legacy. Tumblr is however a voice that I simply don’t get to use in other social media, even if I refrain from posting some of the quirkier side of my interests and personality. Even more curious is the fact that just a year ago Tumblr was pronounced dead after the platform scrubbed all the porn off. Yet, many have stubbornly persisted with their blogs and perhaps Tumblr is due for a renaissance. However powerful and monolithic Facebook and Twitter may be, there are no guarantees they or any other social media will stick around. They are built to be archives. Indeed Tumblr provides a curious intersection with digital life after death. Blogs live on, and the dead are also easily able to post in their absence with the queue function. Even more permanent, and likely to outlive an electromagnetic pulse, is the printed Tumblr, blog, or social media feed. Years ago a friend signed up to a now defunct service which would compile all your Tumblr posts and print them as a book. There are now other such services.
So we are in a rather profound moment. At one level I am likely to back-up hardcopies of letters and old photos by scanning them, but now I am also considering making hard copies of some of my favourite digital creations. This, as Kasket adeptly shows us, is just the tip of the iceberg.
A book about death filled with life. This practical guide to digital afterlives is full of personal stories that perfectly illustrate the importance of digital memories. Each thought provoking chapter gets you running to check the settings on your social media platforms. Interwoven with touching snippets of the author’s personal story, an insightful and enjoyable read.
More and more of our life is spent and stored online. What happens to our digital legacy (footprints) after we die? Some people think our data will stay online forever but data dies too and from all kinds of causes. Elaine Kasket uses experienced examples from all over the world to show the reader what is happening and gives practical tips for handeling digital legacies.
读了一章半放弃了。 两三章就能说完的隐私权、伦理、法律,以及在数字时代人们如何处理悲伤,硬是拖到了三百页的长长长篇幅,引述各种例子来车轱辘式讲这些。很无聊,并且不符合我的期待。 译者也要背锅,翻译的是个什么玩意儿。好好学中文去吧! 看了豆瓣短评之后补了最后一章「在数字时代面对死亡的十条建议」,确实有用,which was exactly what I was expecting from this book.
3/5 First impression of the book: She’s old, isn’t she. If you are any generation younger than the millennials, please take in the contents with a grain of Goldilocks salt.
The main idea of this book is that our digital footprints can reconstitute some aspects of us, especially for people to look back after we die. But this is not a new concept, like the love letters mentioned in the Introduction. Modern tools of technology merely amplifies interpersonal connectivity through the magnitude of data to capture and archive, then the accessibility and impact of it should it be ever revived. Technology brings forward, more urgent and impactful than ever, the conflict between ownership and access of personal data, only then followed by the exploitation of it. And somehow the idea of “privacy” wraps around it.
As much as I like the idea this book is based on, and the fact that someone named “Kasket" is talking about a digital “afterlife”, I don’t think the book satisfied me on the matter. Very early on, the author demonstrates a questionable approach to the concept of privacy. Just in the Introduction, she (1) happily shared her grandparents' love letters online cuz "dead people don have privacy", (2) claimed that privacy in the information age is a tricky thing then (3) --after defining privacy as a self-discriminatory sense of ownership--copyrighted her own instagram images.
Or maybe I asked for too much. She’s not a philosopher after all. I expected a thorough dissection of how the concept of privacy is constantly under negotiation between parties of conflicted interest, how currently available technology opens opportunities and controversies, how the concept of morning (but critically NOT death itself) is changing facilitated by technology (say an actual digital graveyard, like a personal museum), how ethics and laws deal with it, how this pattern of complications can only escalate with next-gen platforms such as AR and VR. The book touches on these aspects, but lacks a more critical insights and sometimes even a clear-enough basic definition. I simply don’t like raising some questions and concerns dozens of pages ahead of the author, only to find its effort of resolution (when it eventually mentions it) was no more than what I can think of myself.
Then I’d hope at the bare minimum, from a psychology background, the author can make up the more human part of this discussion: how individuals feel, how variations in personal encounters to technology alter these feelings, how they act, how they mentally prepare themselves (if they do) for the concept of their digital footprint. This part of expectation was dutifully fulfilled.
Of course, the star of all these discussions should have been “information”. To say some collage of digital footprints of a person is that person is already a huge leap of logics, and the author never seems to establish this critical link explicitly even though the initiatives and accuracy of digital footprints (from a biography v.s. autobiography POV) have been repeatedly mentioned.
What the author also seems to never explicitly say, is that mourning is very simply a one-sided act for (the reminiscence) of interpersonal relationships/interactions/communications. Whether or not people believe there is afterlife or “angelic entities”, there will be no response from the actual deceased. So “if angelic entities have agency (p.56)” is very much nonsense.
Any digital immigrant would not have trouble appreciating Kasket's views, but in a world that will soon only belong to digital natives, it was equally hard for me to see just how much of these concerns would remain, or matter the same way. Even with our best living efforts, it is certainly not fair or reasonable to expect that those who remain would hold our traces, digital or otherwise, in the same regard. Perhaps, the issue that warrants greater consideration is not what we should do with our social media accounts in this lifetime, but how we can learn to move on with the memories and memoirs our loved ones have left behind.
This is a well written book that in my opinion, every user on social media in 2020 MUST read it. The subject of death in the digital realm might be familiar to many people once they experience the loss of a friend or family member who has digital footprints, but there are no socialy accepted rules to follow when it comes to dealing with a legacy that is digital. Elaine is a great writer and I enjoyed her personal stories and her conversations with many tech experts.
Fascinating and inspiring. Weaves the perfect balance of personal anecdotes, human stories and factual information. Gave me so much to think about. Highly recommend. Listened to this and really loved the author's voice as well.
This book has totally marked my professional interests as an AI and Data lover, wanting now, after reading it, to go deeper and deeper into the mysteries of our data when we are no longer on this plane.
årets mest positivt overraskende leseopplevelse. en forfatter som klarer å utfordre andres og egne synspunkt med stor medmenneskelighet og empati. boka unngår de klassiske fallgruvene som ofte oppstår når folk uten IT-bakgrunn skriver om IT. spesielt syns jeg hun klarer å finne nyansene mellom de to ytterpunktene "døden og teknologi er komplekse, store og skremmende tema og vi er hjelpeløse i møte med de", og "selvsagt er det mulig for deg som enkeltmenneske å ta kontroll over ditt eget liv i møte med disse store kreftene, bare gjør disse tre (overraskende enkle) tingene".