Digital Ghosts: How China is Reinventing Death
In a dimly lit Shanghai apartment, Wang Mei watches intently as her grandmother smiles at her through the screen. The smile is familiar — the same gentle expression she remembers from childhood. But her grandmother passed away six months ago. What Wang is watching is an AI-generated avatar, created from old photos and voice recordings, a service that cost her family 5,000 yuan ($700).
“Sometimes I just need to hear her voice again,” Wang says, her eyes fixed on the screen. “Even if I know it’s not really her.”
The Price of Immortality
Welcome to China’s booming grief economy, where death itself is being disrupted by technology. On platforms like Gurenju, families create virtual memorial halls for as little as 1 yuan (13 cents) per digital flower offering. The platform has exploded from 5,000 users in 2019 to over 650,000 by 2023, driven by a generation unable to perform traditional tomb-sweeping duties in person.
“My parents’ graves are in Sichuan, but I work in Beijing,” explains Liu Chen, a 32-year-old software engineer. “During Qingming Festival, I pay 35 yuan for cemetery staff to livestream the tomb cleaning. It’s not the same as being there, but at least I can watch in real-time.”
The Digital Afterlife Industry
The menu of services reads like science fiction:
- Virtual memorial halls: 1–50 yuan for digital offerings
- Livestreamed tomb sweeping: 35 yuan per session
- AI-generated “digital humans”: 5,000–10,000 yuan
- Interactive hologram ceremonies: Starting at 3,000 yuan
Companies like Fu Shou Yuan and Super Brain are racing to perfect their “digital human” technology. Their AI systems can replicate not just appearances but voices, mannerisms, and even thought patterns based on family inputs.
When Tech Meets Tradition
In a modern office building in Beijing, Zhang Wei demonstrates his company’s latest innovation: a holographic projection system being tested across five cemeteries. “Traditional Chinese culture emphasizes remembering our ancestors,” he explains. “We’re just making it possible to do so in ways that fit modern life.”
The technology is impressive. Within minutes, their AI can compile biographies, animate old photos, and create interactive experiences that would have seemed impossible just years ago. The company plans to expand nationwide, targeting a database of 300,000 deceased individuals.
The Dark Side of Digital Grief
Not everyone embraces this technological transformation of death. “These services can create unhealthy attachment,” warns Dr. Li, a Beijing-based psychiatrist. “I’ve seen clients become emotionally dependent on AI versions of their loved ones, unable to complete the natural grieving process.”
Privacy concerns also loom large. Who owns the rights to a deceased person’s digital likeness? Can companies use collected data to generate unauthorized content? The legal framework struggles to keep pace with the technology.
A Cultural Crossroads
The rise of digital mourning reflects deeper changes in Chinese society. Urbanization has scattered families across the country. Young professionals can rarely take time off for traditional multi-day funeral rites. Virtual solutions bridge the gap between ancient filial obligations and modern constraints.
At Gurenju’s offices, CEO Wang Shun reflects on this transformation: “We’re not replacing traditional mourning — we’re preserving it. Without these digital options, many young Chinese would be completely disconnected from their ancestral rites.”
The Future of Remembrance
Back in her apartment, Wang Mei ends her virtual visit with her grandmother’s avatar. “My mother was skeptical at first,” she says. “But last week, I caught her talking to the AI late at night. She was telling grandmother about her garden, just like she used to.”
She pauses, then adds: “Is it real? No. But neither is a photograph. Both are just ways of holding onto memory. And sometimes, that’s enough.”
The screen flickers off, and her grandmother’s digital ghost fades away. In modern China, even death is being disrupted, one pixel at a time.
