Digital Life Matthew Webster
I have now attended my first online funeral and digital wake; they were unexpectedly heartening experiences, despite my considerable forebodings.
One week into the coronavirus lockdown, my mother died. It was no tragedy; she died of ‘old age’, mercifully, not infected by COVID-19.
Nevertheless, that virus casts a long shadow, and it affected her final days, her demise and her cremation. We would have found it all much tougher without the internet and help from an industry new to me: ‘bereavement technology services’. It would have been very different 20, or even 10, years ago.
When, after her nursing home was locked down, we could no longer visit my mother, the wonderful staff arranged for internet video calls. Once it became clear that the end was near, her doctor was allowed to examine the patient by video and, in due course, issue the cause-ofdeath certificate. In more normal times, a physical examination is a legal requirement – and would have been complicated, to say the least.
Formalities for obtaining the death certificate could now be completed online, rather than in person, by appointment, as previously required.
We decided on a brief cremation with a much jollier memorial service once the churches reopen. Not that we had much choice; the COVID-19 rules decreed a maximum of ten at the crematorium, all socially distancing, and we were asked not to encourage people to travel far.
In the event, it was possible for only four of us to be there in person. On the face of it, this could have been a melancholy little band, especially given that my mother had a very wide range of friends and relations who would normally have packed the chapel. I wondered how we could best reflect this. We didn’t need to. Technology took over.
The service was broadcast live on the internet for anyone with the password to watch. This meant that many people on several continents were able to take part. We had distributed orders of service by email, and I gather there was some lusty singing in distant corners of the world.
The vicar, too, made a point of addressing her remarks directly to the remote congregation. This was inspired. Not only did it allow them to feel a real part of the service; it allowed the few of us in the pews to sense their presence.
The service was placed online for four weeks, so anyone living in a less helpful time zone could catch up. The whole process was completely unobtrusive, and even the music we chose was beamed from a website into the chapel sound system. The internet was everywhere.
In the past, I have always resisted filming weddings, christenings and so on; I believe these things generally live better in the memory. But this experience has given me pause for thought. We had many appreciative messages from long-distance mourners, and somehow the knowledge that we were not alone lifted the spirits of the handful of us in the chapel.
Of course, there was no opportunity for the normal party afterwards, but the grandchildren were not to be denied.
That afternoon, they organised a Zoom party, for which almost 20 family members across three generations gathered online from our various points of self-isolation. We told jokes, remembered Grandma – and we could all drink, since no one was driving.
So, to some extent, it was on the internet that my dear mother died and was committed to her maker, and we who mourned her were the better for that.
I can’t help thinking that, like death itself, this sort of online farewell will from now on be with us always.
High-street banks and central banks need us to trust our currency and, around the world, they are now actively urging us to keep using cash.
It is banks that have pulled us back from the brink of abandoning cash altogether. Having spent so long trying to persuade us to pay with plastic cards, they are now keen for us to carry on using cash. In response to the COVID-19 outbreak, banks raised the spending limit on contactless cards from £30 to £45. The change started in April, though it is taking time for all retailers to update their terminals.
For many years, we have been able to withdraw small amounts of cash, usually up to £50, when paying for groceries with a debit card. This suits the supermarkets because they then have less cash to deposit, which cuts their cost of banking.
Soon more shops will be offering this service. Mastercard and Visa, with their partner banks, are encouraging any retailer to offer cashback by paying them 12p every time they dispense money to a customer. This provides additional income for local shops and access to small amounts of cash for people who have no nearby ATM. It also recycles bank notes within a local community.
Shoppers might eventually be allowed to get cashback without making a purchase first, but that’s just an idea now.
As for ATMS, four cash-machine providers have responded to the current crisis. Barclays, Natwest, Paypoint and Sainsbury’s Bank all promise, when local communities apply, to install free-to-use cash machines if the only one in the area disappears or starts charging for withdrawals.
There is around £70 billion worth of bank notes in circulation, kept in wallets, shop tills, banks and cash machines and even under mattresses. The cashless society is still a long way off.