Death and the Internet: ending your virtual self

What would you write if you could update your Facebook status from beyond the grave?

Would you bequeath your website and blog to a loved one or would you delete your accounts -- letting your online self 'die' with you?

Crafting a "digital will" never occurs to most people, experts say, but as we increasingly live our lives online and inside our computers, relationships and assets can disappear into the ether if people don't make provisions for their digital footprint before they die. In response, a small but growing cottage industry of "digital executors" is offering services that allow people to hand down passwords and instructions so their loved ones can access -- or shut down -- their web domains, PayPal and eBay accounts, blogs, e-mail addresses and social networking profiles after they die.

"I think that in a few years this will be as natural as writing a 'normal' will or life insurance," said Lisa Granberg, co-founder of My Webwill, a Swedish company that's the newest entry to this market. "Just like we have always done, we document our lives by writing diaries, photos and letters. Today, the big difference is that most things are digital and password-protected."

My Webwill will launch to the public in the next few weeks, she said, allowing people to decide whether each of their online accounts should be deactivated upon their death, transferred to someone else to manage or updated with a final message from the beyond. Password information is encrypted for security, she said, and members choose two "verifiers" who will inform My Webwill when the member dies and provide a copy of the death certificate, prompting the company to carry out their final wishes.

Memberships range from a free trial account with limited options to a $179 US lifetime membership.

Deathswitch is another service that prompts users for their password on a regular basis "to make sure you are still alive." If multiple attempts to get a response fail, the program assumes they're "dead or critically disabled" and sends out messages to designated contacts. The website suggests uses ranging from passing along computer passwords and banking info to releasing "unspeakable secrets" or getting in the "last word in an argument."

Slightly Morbid, on the other hand, is aimed at helping members notify their online friends of their death by compiling their contacts in a single account and providing access instructions to a trusted third party.

"The lives people live online are so disconnected from their family lives that when they pass away, their families aren't necessarily clued into the fact that their loved one has an online community of people that they've never met," said Adele McAlear, a strategic marketing consultant in Montreal who researches and speaks on death and digital legacies.

In the case of Jeremy Toeman's family, they knew there were friends to notify -- they just couldn't get to them.

Toeman's grandmother loved playing bridge online and had email buddies all over the world, he said, but when she died at age 94, his family didn't have any of her passwords to notify her online friends. Eventually, they gave up.

He searched for a service that would solve that problem and didn't find anything consumer-friendly, so he created Legacy Locker, a "digital safety deposit box" where people can compile information for all their accounts, designating a different beneficiary for each. The site now has about 10,000 members, he said, and in the year since they launched, he's seen many similar services cropping up.

"I still think we're at a very young time for this. This and next year will be when we really see people start to take the topic seriously," said Toeman, who now lives in San Francisco. "If you're going to spend six hours a day doing stuff online -- whether that's Facebook, blogging, Warcraft, working, Farmville -- you are creating value. For some people, that online asset will have tangible value that they'll care about and we think they'll start to deal with it."