A chilling new trend has emerged in Russia, where grieving families are using artificial intelligence to create digital avatars of fallen soldiers. These ‘griefbots’ or ‘deadbots’ are trained on photos, videos, text messages, and voice recordings to mimic the deceased, allowing relatives to hold conversations with a simulacrum of their loved one. UK experts, including ethicists from the Alan Turing Institute and Oxford University, have condemned the practice as deeply problematic, citing psychological harm and the potential for exploitation.
The technology, which relies on generative adversarial networks (GANs) and large language models, has become accessible via Russian app stores and Telegram bots. Users can upload as little as 30 seconds of audio to clone a voice, and a handful of photos to generate a basic animated face. The AI then processes this data to respond in the first person, often with disturbing accuracy.
Dr. Eleanor Foster, a digital ethics researcher at Cambridge, warns of profound consequences. “Grief is a process that requires acceptance and moving through loss. These tools hijack that process, creating a state of perpetual denial. The user may become trapped in a one-way connection, unable to say goodbye,” she said. Her concerns are echoed by the UK’s Online Safety Group, which released a statement calling for international regulation before the practice spreads.
The trend appears to have gained momentum following Russia’s heavy casualties in Ukraine. Official figures are scarce, but open-source investigators estimate over 100,000 Russian soldiers have been killed since the invasion began. Desperate families are turning to this AI as a crutch. One user, posting in a VKontakte group, wrote: “I speak to my son every night. He tells me he loves me. It’s not the same, but it’s all I have.”
The technology raises acute ethical questions about consent and digital immortality. These soldiers did not grant permission for their likenesses to be used in this way. Their personal data, often obtained from hacked databases or social media scraping, is being repurposed for profit. Some services charge up to 5,000 rubles per month for premium features, including personalised memories and emotional responses.
Moreover, the long-term psychological effects are unknown. Clinical psychologists are concerned that prolonged interaction with a generative AI could lead to attachment, dependency, and even confusion about reality. For children of the deceased, the impact could be especially severe. The AI cannot actually feel or remember; it merely simulates understanding based on statistical patterns. Yet for a grieving parent, the illusion is potent.
From a technical standpoint, these griefbots are a predictable yet dark application of recent advances in generative AI. Similar tools exist in the West (for example, Project December or HereAfter AI), but they are typically marketed for ‘legacy’ purposes with careful ethical guidelines. In Russia, regulation is lax, and the apps promote themselves as a way to “never lose someone you love”. This framing preys on vulnerability.
As a tech ethicist who lived through the dot-com boom and witnessed the evolution of social media’s harms, I find this trend deeply troubling. It’s a Black Mirror episode come to life. The technology itself is a marvel: few would have imagined a decade ago that we could converse with the dead. But the lack of safeguards, the exploitation of grief, and the potential for abuse should give us pause.
The UK government is under pressure to act. The Online Safety Bill, which passed last year, includes provisions for AI-generated content, but these focus on disinformation and child safety, not on emotional manipulation. Experts argue that we need a new category of ‘psychological safety’ for AI products that interact with vulnerable users.
Until then, this disturbing trend will likely continue to grow. In a society where death is a daily occurrence on the battlefield, technology offers a dangerous escape. We must ask ourselves: do we want a world where we never have to say goodbye? Or is grief, as painful as it is, the price of being human?
