We’ve all been warned about posting crazy pictures on Facebook.
We’ve been told employers might not be interested in someone who can do a keg stand — or at least not someone who wants to show it off.
Once something is posted online, it can become permanent, as it is copied, saved and posted to a million other computers and websites becoming — whether we want it to or not — a part of our digital legacy.
Many of us are devoting more of our lives than ever in the digital world, spending time, money and energy on social networking and other online media, but eventually we have to ask: What will happen to that legacy when we die?
Our digital legacies have become vast over the years, with scores of individuals accumulating thousands of e-mails and photos stored on hundreds of servers all over the world.
Without proper foresight, loved ones could be locked out of important parts of our lives or even forced to relive unpleasant memories when Facebook asks them to “poke” a deceased friend or family member.
Fortunately, Nebraska state senator John Wightman is attempting to streamline the process of leaving a digital legacy. The senator’s bill would allow a will’s executor automatic access to the deceased’s social media accounts so they could decide to close them or leave them as a memorial.
A few years ago, a girl at my high school was tragically killed in a car accident. Her death shook the student body as her classmates each found different ways to express grief.
The football team dedicated their season to their former assistant trainer while others covered her parking space with flowers and mementos.
Many of her friends, classmates and family members flocked to her Facebook page, posting about how much they miss her, how happy they were to know her or just telling her about a day in their lives.
I remember talking with friends about the Facebook memorial and how we would feel in the same situation. Some saw it as a good way for her loved ones to show their support for each other, while others felt they would prefer a less public memorial.
Different people respond to grief in different ways. I am in no way trying to belittle the obvious love and affection of the friends and family who visited her page, but I would rather my loved ones remember me in other ways.
Wightman’s bill is a good start, but doesn’t go far enough in protecting the deceased’s digital property.
It’s easy to make light of someone leaving behind the dozens of accounts we make to read one article or to play a game for five minutes before getting bored. While the Internet is still full of trivial time-wasters, many people have built up a digital portfolio, whether through sites like Facebook or Flickr or even online banking.
New standards for copy protection in the event of the owner’s death should be adopted to ensure downloaded music, movies and games can be passed on like any other property.
As our generation ages, questions over managing our digital legacies will become increasingly important. In the coming years, many of us will have to deal with the digital legacies of our grandparents and other older relatives who may have only recently moved online.
Wightman’s bill also relies too much on the deceased’s executor who is probably either the parent of a younger user or the spouse of an older one. These people may not have the technological experience required to manage the deceased’s digital assets.
We will likely see new digital protections put in place over the next few years to make managing a loved one’s digital life easier, but until then it might be worth it to stash your account passwords somewhere if you care about your digital legacy.
Andrew Shockey is a 21-year-old biological engineering junior from Baton Rouge. Follow him on Twitter @TDR_Ashockey.
 
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Contact Andrew Shockey at [email protected]