If I’ve learned anything from my time in the workforce, from building frameworks and mentoring the next generation of leaders, it’s that we are constantly defining and refining the legacy we leave behind. But what I never anticipated – what none of us truly did – was that our digital lives would become just as important as the physical ones we construct. It’s no longer just about what people remember of you in person; it’s about what they can find, what they can still read, watch, and learn from long after you’re gone. Our digital afterlife is real, and it deserves the same deliberate thought and care as our financial and physical legacies.
When I think back to the work I’ve done, teaching post-secondary students, guiding professionals through their career trajectories, and sharing insights on leadership and innovation, I realize that much of it has migrated online. My words, whether spoken to a classroom or written in a blog post, no longer belong to just me – they are accessible to anyone, anywhere, at any time. This one-to-many communication is powerful. It’s how we can educate, inspire, and provoke thought, not just in our immediate circles, but across borders and generations. I’ve come to realize that in today’s world, this is the closest thing to immortality we can achieve – the ability for our work and our ideas to transcend time.
But with this power comes responsibility. Just as we meticulously plan for the distribution of our physical assets – who gets what, and how we want our loved ones to remember us – we need to start doing the same for our digital assets. The photos we post, the articles we write, the social media we curate – this is more than just content; it’s the digital equivalent of a book that outlives its author. If preserved, it gives people a window into who we were, what we stood for, and what we valued.
The truth is, significant energy, effort, and emotion have gone into building our digital footprints. These aren’t just throwaway moments captured on Instagram or fleeting thoughts shared on Twitter. For many of us, this digital world has become the canvas where we express our most meaningful ideas and connections. Think of the countless hours spent writing, editing, and sharing. That’s not wasted time. That’s investment – investment in shaping our narrative and offering it up for the world to see. And just like any valuable piece of intellectual property, our digital presence deserves protection and intentional management after we’re gone.
The reality is, most of us moved to digital platforms for the exact reason that they allow us to scale our influence. We moved here because it’s efficient, and because it provides us the space to communicate with far more people than we could ever reach in person. That’s the beauty of it. But when we’re no longer actively contributing to our digital profiles, the question becomes: What happens next? Do we let it all fade into the void, our digital self slowly decaying into oblivion, or do we take a more conscious approach to plot what our digital afterlife will look like?
It’s tempting to think that once we’re gone, it doesn’t matter. But that’s not true. Just as a physical book continues to provide insight, knowledge, and inspiration for generations, our digital content has that same potential – if we allow it. What we create online – whether it’s articles, blogs, videos, or social media reflections – holds value not just for us, but for those who come after us. These digital artifacts, in a sense, are our contributions to intergenerational knowledge transfer. Think about how books, journals, and historical documents have shaped our understanding of the world. Now, imagine the same is true for the digital content we leave behind. It can offer future generations insights not only into what we thought and created, but how we navigated the complex challenges of our time.
As I reflect on the personal and professional value of these digital assets, I know I don’t want to leave this part of my legacy to chance. Just as I’ve thought about who will inherit my physical belongings, I’m now realizing the importance of deciding who will manage my digital ones. The content I’ve created – be it blog posts on leadership, articles on economic theory, or videos addressing real estate and investment strategies – has meaning. It holds value. And if managed properly, it can continue to serve others long after I’m gone.
This is where the role of a digital steward becomes essential. Just as we appoint executors for our estates, we should think about designating someone to oversee our digital legacy. This isn’t just about ensuring our social media accounts don’t linger awkwardly in cyberspace, frozen in time. It’s about making sure that the intellectual property, the wisdom, and the ideas we’ve poured into our digital presence are handled with care. Do we want our blogs and articles archived and made available to a specific audience? Should our social media profiles become memorials or be closed down? Do we want our videos and podcasts to continue being distributed, or do we prefer a more private legacy? These are decisions that require thought, and without a plan, the choice won’t be ours to make.
The digital afterlife is something we must all confront, whether we realize it or not. And while it might feel strange to think of our digital selves living on after we’re no longer here, it’s the reality of the world we now inhabit. We are no longer just individuals creating in private. We are creators in a public, connected world where our digital footprint can influence, teach, and inspire others for years to come.
But to ensure that our digital lives have meaning beyond our time on this earth, we must be intentional. Our digital content, just like any carefully crafted artifact, can continue to provide value if we take the time to plan for it. This is not just about preserving the past; it’s about shaping the future. By taking ownership of our digital legacy, we ensure that our ideas, our knowledge, and our values continue to impact the world in the way we intended – even after we’re no longer here to guide them.
So, as I think about my own legacy – both physical and digital – I realize the importance of leaving behind something that is thoughtful, deliberate, and purposeful. Whether it’s the frameworks I’ve built, the lessons I’ve taught, or the ideas I’ve shared, I want those to live on in a way that’s reflective of who I am and what I stood for. And in today’s world, that means taking control of my digital afterlife just as much as my physical one.