A grim new frontier of grief has opened in Russia’s war on Ukraine. Families of fallen soldiers are turning to artificial intelligence to create digital avatars of their dead, allowing them to converse with lifelike simulations of their loved ones. The practice, which has spread across social media and private chat groups, has drawn sharp condemnation from the UK government, which has branded it a form of digital desecration.
The technology, built on generative AI models such as deepfake voice cloning and text-to-speech engines, uses a combination of photos, videos, audio recordings and text messages to recreate a person’s appearance, voice and mannerisms. Startups in Russia and elsewhere have begun offering these services for a fee, sometimes as low as a few hundred dollars. The resulting avatars are often deployed in chatbots that can hold conversations, or as video avatars that mimic the deceased’s gestures.
For families reeling from the loss of a husband, son or father, the allure is understandable. The chance to hear a familiar voice again, to ask forgiveness or to say a final goodbye, can be a powerful balm for raw wounds. Some families report using the avatars to keep children connected to a parent they will never see again. One mother told a Russian state media outlet: “I can hear him say he loves me. It helps me sleep.”
But critics argue that the practice crosses an ethical line. The UK Foreign Office issued a statement calling it “a disturbing exploitation of grief for propaganda purposes” and warned that such avatars could be used to twist the memories of the dead. “This is not about comfort. This is about manipulating families and creating a narrative of martyrdom,” a spokesperson said. The UK has imposed sanctions on two Russian companies involved in the development of these AI services, freezing their assets and banning them from doing business with British entities.
The ethical debate is not new. In 2019, a South Korean documentary used VR to reunite a mother with a digital replica of her deceased daughter, sparking similar concerns. But the scale and speed of adoption in Russia’s war context amplify the dangers. Grief is a vulnerability that AI can exploit. Already, there are reports of families being unknowingly charged for premium features or being locked into subscription models. Worse, the data used to train the avatars could be harvested for surveillance or political control.
There is also the risk of revisionist history. As the avatars become more sophisticated, they could be programmed to deliver scripted messages that align with the Kremlin’s narrative of the war. Imagine a digital son telling his mother that he died fighting “Nazis” in Ukraine. That is a powerful propaganda tool.
Some Russian tech ethicists have raised alarms. “We are building a generation that cannot let go,” said Dr. Natalia Petrova, a digital ethics researcher at Moscow State University. “The avatar becomes a ghost in the machine, frozen in time. But the living need to process death, not simulate it.” She worries that prolonged engagement with these avatars could stunt the natural grieving process, leading to prolonged trauma or dependency.
For now, the UK’s condemnation is largely symbolic. Russia has dismissed the sanctions as “pathetic attempts to interfere in our internal affairs”. But the issue is not going away. As AI becomes cheaper and more accessible, the temptation to resurrect the dead will only grow. Already, companies in China and the US are offering similar services for the bereaved. The line between memory and manipulation is blurring.
The real question is not whether we can do this, but whether we should. In a war where truth and humanity are already casualties, digital resurrection may be the final insult. For families caught in the crossfire, the choice is agonising: say goodbye for real, or hold on to a digital echo. Neither option is without cost.
