What Does Your Online Presence Say About You?
As more of our lives are lived and expressed online, at some point you may need to consider what does your digital presence say about you – and is it in need of a curation?
More than at any other time in history, we have a range of tools at our disposal to curate and craft our own identities. Once, little of an ordinary life (as in one lived out of the spotlight) was recorded. Of our ancestors, we might have some photos, a lock of hair, their first shoes.
In contrast, today each of us likely appears in thousands of photos, our thoughts recorded in videos, along with various forms of digital proof of our existence.
When I was young, it was common for people to ask, “What would you save in a fire?” The answer I remember giving was photo albums. People would step back into flames for them. I’ve wondered how this might have changed now that albums are something people rarely get around to making; the cloud offering fire-resistant storage and instant recall.
But as humans we tend to attach to possessions, so perhaps we’d go back for special things – designer items, a wedding dress, paintings. Increasingly, though, digital records of a life lived seem to be enough – some might even delight in the fact it’s a sustainable choice.
Even so, we would be wise to consider what it is we’d like in that digital file with our name on it. If we don’t, someone else might do the curating for us, even after we are long gone.
Online storage is a booming business. Unable to grapple with the sheer volume of photos I’ve generated (mostly since having a child), I reluctantly pay monthly storage fees across different providers with a promise to myself that I’ll sort it all out ‘soon’. That time has yet to come.
There are plenty of companies offering to help, some even select what might go in an online album. According to publisher Fortune Business Insights, the sector is valued at more than $154 billion and is projected to grow to more than $1 trillion by 2032.
It’s not just photo storage and albums that are meeting – or is that feeding? – our needs. There’s also what is now termed the death tech industry. This refers to businesses aiming to reimagine end-of-life planning, funerals, burials, grief support and, importantly, memorialisation.
The death tech sector is already valued at more than $100 billion and is growing – rapidly. From preparing a eulogy and selecting hymns, we’ve moved to video montages, playlists and digital memories to sum up a life. Some are engaging in ‘deep nostalgia’ by animating faces in old photos and considering ‘digital afterlives.’
One lady even turned up at her own funeral as a hologram, putting new meaning into the concept of having the last word.
All of this raises questions around truth and whether it matters as much in an online world. It’s not simple. What represents someone best – the outfit they wear on a special occasion or the clothes they wear each day? Perhaps it’s something they would like to wear, if only they could. Clothes matter. They provide a way to express our identities, representing not just our tastes but our beliefs and values.
When it comes to the digital world, more choices are available to us. Many people are already adept at designing and dressing an avatar to ‘be them’ in a virtual or online world. It is reported that 53 per cent of fashion brands are investing $300 billion in the online world, including Instagram filters, digital avatars and virtual stores. According to F Luxury Magazine, analysts are predicting the ‘virtual luxury goods market’ could reach $50 billion by 2030. Already in online games, players can ‘purchase’ branded items with game currency (often a point system).
My daughter plays one such game and I’ve noticed her avatar outfits are very much on trend. I also noticed a friend of hers, who has brown skin and dark brown hair, has given her avatar white skin and blonde hair. And they all get around in crop tops of which I’m sure their mothers would disapprove. Does this divide between online and real-life matter? It might seem relatively harmless for 11-year-old friends in a closed game, but what of a digital version of you that is designed to live longer than you? We might grapple with our own choices, but imagine siblings seeking to dress a digital version of a recently passed parent. We need not imagine; it’s already happening.
Perhaps more telling of our character than what we wear is what we think, particularly about the issues of the day. On this, thoughts are also being recorded so they might live on. It might seem appealing, particularly if a parent knows they are dying and wishes to leave an impression of themselves for their children. Others are seeking to capture family history or create a record of the time in which they’ve lived.But what if thoughts held today are frowned upon in the future? Our views on what’s right and ethical can change over time, particularly as societal norms evolve and we make new discoveries. It’s bad enough being cancelled in real life, let alone posthumously when one has no chance to mount a defence.
There’s also the issue of who decides, or who is allowed to control, the narrative. Should it be the eldest child, or the one who was closest to the deceased?
We know people experience people differently. As the saying goes, every child is born into a different family. Th e idea of truths, in the plural, and having your own truth might be an uncomfortable development in our lexicon for those wanting certainty, or a single source of truth. Rather than let other people battle it out on your behalf, you can take matters into your own hands and review and curate your own digital identity.
But before you get going, it would be wise to do some research to ensure you use trusted providers where you can control access and they guarantee privacy. Interestingly, the largest tech providers have the option to ‘designate your legacy.’ It’s simple to do and could make things easier down the track, or you may want to encourage someone to designate their legacy to you.
It niggles away at me that I have tens of thousands of photos across multiple devices and I’m aware that, over the years, I’ve commented on a range of issues where the ethical goalposts have likely shifted. So, reviewing my digital presence will be on my list of tasks for the year ahead. In the process, there may be another form of relief as I reduce some of those pesky storage fees.
Clare Payne is the ethics, trust and transparency leader for EY in Oceania. The former employment lawyer is author of A Matter of Trust and One.
Lead image courtesy of Getty images