The announcement that an unreleased Beatles song, featuring the voice of John Lennon created through artificial intelligence, will be released in December this year, caused a stir in the market. For Beatlemaniacs, some are already eagerly counting down the days. For others, it sounded like heresy, as we know that recreating someone’s voice from another realm is impossible.
In this regard, the controversy was so significant and far-reaching that Paul McCartney had to make a public statement to clarify that the unreleased song is actually a restoration of archived old phonographic materials, and that technological resources would only be used to recover them. In other words, no artificially created voice.
However, the discussion doesn’t end there. Riding on the wave, the renowned singer Madonna announced that she would prohibit the use of her image posthumously through digital means, such as holograms. Apprehensive about the potential misuse and contrary to her values and principles, the artist will formalize her intentions in her own will. Or, in more colloquial terms, in stone.
But what about digital inheritance? Just like estate planning, aspects of the virtual life should also be organized after death. Indeed, intangible digital assets such as cryptocurrencies, NFTs, literary and photographic collections are already recognized as assets, making them part of the deceased owner’s legitimate succession, either through a will or a codicil.
Yet, what about intangible digital assets related to personality rights, like recreated voice sounds and images through technological means? Of course, expressing one’s intentions while alive is possible, regulating and even explicitly forbidding their exploration, whether commercial or not, by heirs and successors.
However, if even tangible assets and property rights are rarely addressed in wills or estate plans by most of their owners, due to ignorance or neglect, even less attention is likely given to intangible assets.
The issue, therefore, revolves around this gap. Let’s consider an example. The well-known German automobile manufacturer, Volkswagen, recently launched an advertising campaign to celebrate its seventy years of establishment in Brazil, one of its major global markets.
The campaign was bold and innovative. It featured a duet, enabled by artificial intelligence, between singer Maria Rita and her late mother, Elis Regina. The production was a masterpiece, emotionally moving to fans, aesthetically rich, and even included the reproduction of the musical piece “Como Nossos Pais,” an icon from the seventies.
However, a detail went unnoticed. The late singer was an enthusiast of labor movements during that time, advocating against the political regime in the country as well as for better wages and working conditions at manufacturers like the German multinational itself. That particular song was a protest anthem, not one of glorification. This stirred the fury of enthusiasts of that movement and those close to the singer, as they perceived that the synchronization of the musical work to promote the automobile brand would never have been allowed if she were alive.
The topic not only dominated discussions but also shed light on excesses and opportunists. A certain politician seized the opportunity and proposed a new law to prohibit the use of posthumous personality rights through artificial intelligence, unless the individual, while alive, “clearly, unequivocally, and adequately documented their objectives for using the images and audio to be utilized.” In other words, a sophisticated pre-mortem contract will now be necessary to address the virtual legacy.
As for advertising, the governing body overseeing the matter in the country notified the production company, alleging that it constituted deceptive advertising, as the images and voice sounds of Elis Regina were so realistic that they gave the false impression to viewers that they were genuine. Therefore, a disclaimer was deemed essential for the general public, warning them that these were resources created by artificial intelligence, under the risk of the advertisement being prohibited.
We are thus confronted with a genuine crossroad. Not the famous cult film from the eighties, but rather legal challenges involving posthumous personality rights. Is it the right of heirs to autonomously manage the legacy of the deceased? Or should third parties intervene in the absence of pre-mortem intentions of the rights holder? Moreover, should public interest outweigh private interest, as in the case of restoring rare artworks for the sake of cultural access? Can heirs exercise their succession rights in blatant abuse of rights, akin to copyright cases, or can they contradict the values of the deceased, exploiting them commercially in ways opposite to the principles they upheld in life? Will enacting a law to regulate the matter be effective?
It’s known that contesting technology guarantees defeat. And in the realm of digital resurrection, those who try to deny or obstruct its course will lose. After all, it’s like the path of water. Inevitable.
