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Since May 29, physical death certificates have not been issued, which, according to the Immigration and Checkpoints Authority, is a move to make the administrative process easier for next of kin. While this is a pragmatic move, we must avoid creating a future where digitalisation is a zero-sum game and Singaporeans are denied a choice between digital and physical copies of significant personal documents. In phasing out physical certificates entirely, we may, in fact, devalue milestones in our lives and the lives of our loved ones. Personally, I am uncomfortable with the thought that the death of my loved ones is tucked away in an app and their legacy defined by the data inscribed on my devices. Such a dislocation will surely be particularly striking for parents with stillborn children. For such bereaved parents, it would be comforting for them if they are given the option of a physical death certificate, as it might be the sole physical memory of their child that they can hold on to. While I can understand the administrative rationale for digitalisation, we should also provide a more humane and dignified touch to how death is remembered in Singapore. Singapore's move towards digitalisation should rightfully create value for the citizenry, with greater streamlining, convenience and accessibility, but it should not create a nation where citizens become mere data and where digitalisation becomes a self-evident fact in an efficient bureaucracy, and life processes are managed and processed without physical interfaces. Human lives and our loved ones are more than mere ghosts in our digital machines. But at the same time, in an information age, digital afterlives are but a natural consequence, a reality that elicits questions on data security, ethics, grief and memory. The digitalisation of our lives should compel us to think about how we want our online assets to be managed after we die and the steps we might need to take to do so. The constant use of technology has drastically changed the options that are available to document a person's life, mourn someone's death and preserve one's legacy. More fundamentally, while understanding its pitfalls, we should harness the opportunities offered by technology to reframe our relationship with death, how we choose to remember and be remembered, and the anatomy of grief and mourning in a digital age. A policy, a process or even a law will not necessarily do that. A conversation on our digital assets will.