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We often think that an individual’s identity is fixed at the time of death. Whatever people thought and believed about the person at the time of death, can no longer change. Yet, the reality is that identity is very fluid and that even after a person dies, others—perhaps family or even the larger social order—may constantly re-evaluate and redefine his or her essential attributes—recasting that individual’s identity. Generally, post-mortem identity remains relatively stable—the individual’s situational attributes are fixed by those who knew him in those roles. In fact, the eulogy may be seen as an effort to “fix” or cement the individual’s identity as it offers a final summation—a closing narrative. In addition, the cultural norm of not to speak ill of the dead also defends against redefinition. Nonetheless, even identities can change after death. In fact, the very open nature of social media, such as Facebook, where unknown individuals can, even anonymously, post comments and share memories of the deceased make modifications in post-mortem identity even more likely in the future.
This is especially true of celebrities and public figures. Here their identities may become recast as new information becomes available, with societal shifts in values, or even as the result of relatively random events.
We remember Rock Hudson. His death by AIDS challenged his image—his identity—of a debonair lady’s man. Instead, it became very clear that Hudson was gay and his earlier marriage to Phyllis Gates a ruse to rest rumors of homosexuality.
Societal shifts in values are a major reason for changes in post-mortem identity with varied celebrities or public figures. Even George Washington is not immune. Once revered as founder of the country, Washington’s identity is now somewhat challenged in a more egalitarian era. Washington’s prestige and standing has suffered from the fact that he owned slaves.
Andrew Jackson identity has been even more severely threatened. Jackson has long been an American icon, famed for his victory in the Battle of New Orleans as well as his presidency and his role as a founder of the Democratic Party. A poor boy who fought as a child in the revolution, orphaned in adolescence, and yet became president was lionized as an embodiment of the American dream—that anyone, no matter how humble in birth, could rise to high office on his or her own merit. Now Jackson has faced significant redefinition due both to his status as a slave owner and his harsh policies toward Native Americans.
In other cases, seemingly even random events can an affect post-mortem identity. For example, the smash Broadway play, Hamilton, revived public interest in Alexander Hamilton and helped reshape his identity from a somewhat arrogant aristocrat to a true revolutionary hero.
It is not just celebrities and public figures though who may experience identity changes post-mortem. In some cases this too may be due to new information. Francine, an older widow, for example, considered her late husband, Tony to be a faithful husband, good father to his three children, and a good provider. He was “the salt of the earth” as Francine described him. In the months following his death, Francine became aware—through letters and flowers left on his grave—that he had a long-standing affair with another woman.
In other cases post-mortem events such as the reading of the will can lead to a reassessment of identity. For example, a will may disenfranchise certain prospective heirs leading them to re-evaluate both their relationship and the identity of the person who died. In other cases, bequests may reveal hidden interests or charities or certain relationships that cause others to reassess the identity of the decedent.
Obviously, changes in post-mortem identity have the potential to affect survivor’s grief—in some cases severely complicating grief while in others—facilitating the grieving process. For example, survivors may hear new information about an individual that makes them aware of how generous, helpful, or appreciated the deceased was—helping them to find new meaning and significance in the deceased individual’s life.
However in other cases, the changes in post-mortem identity complicated their grief as new information challenged and invalidated the image they had of their deceased relative. In Francine’s case, knowledge of the affair invalidated Francine’s conception of Tony as well as their relationship. Even though they were married for over 40 years, Francine wonders if she ever knew “the real Tony.” She constantly obsesses on events in their marriage such as his fishing trips with his friends or bowling nights—wondering if these were really opportunities for illicit encounters with his mistress.
In fact, these negative challenges or changes to post-mortem identity can be of such a nature as to constitute a traumatic loss with all the psychological sequelae that trauma generally entails. The very nature of trauma is that in addition to the loss, survivors have to cope with the challenge to their assumptive worlds. This means the coherence of the earlier narrative has been shattered. For example, we think viewing a movie in a theatre is one of the safest activities. Yet, should the theatre catch fire and people, especially someone we love, dies, we may no longer feel safe in a movie again.
A significant negative change in post-mortem identity is similar to the trauma that follows a sudden, unexpected loss. Three Israeli researchers—Simon Rubin, Ruth Malkinson, and Elias Witztum identify such a challenge as relational trauma that they define as “something that attacks the very coherence and organization of the deceased in the mind of the bereaved.” The basis of what we once believed about the individual’s identity and the very relationship shared is now suddenly discredited—creating all the symptoms associated with traumatic loss.
Moreover, coping with the grief associated with changes in post-mortem identity can be disenfranchised. Disenfranchised grief refers to losses that are not socially sanctioned, openly acknowledged, or publicly mourned (Doka, 2002). Here the loss of a reputation—even post-mortem—can be disenfranchised for a number of reasons. First, the grieving individual may be too ashamed to share or process that grief with others. Second, the general grief-related norms of “not speaking ill of the dead” or “focus only on good memories” can severely inhibit such conversations. The result is that the individual struggling with the losses related to changes in post-mortem identity may do so alone and without support.
Since identity is constructed, identities can shift even after an individual dies as new information or new values emerge. Given the increasing role of social media in memorialization, as well as the anonymity it offer, this issue is likely to become even more critical in the future. These shifts in identity can facilitate the grieving process, but more often complicate the grief of survivors.
Grief counselors, then, need to be sensitive to such changes and the role it may have in the survivors’ grieving process. It is useful to question clients about new information they may have received about the deceased as well to query what they may experiencing on varied social media site where the deceased is memorialized and how it is influencing their grief.
Over half a century ago, the sociologist W. Lloyd Warner completed an extensive study of social class in America. One of his interesting findings was that social mobility continued even in death. As descendants moved into higher social status, they sometimes reburied deceased family members in cemeteries with higher social prestige, mirroring their own change in social status. Not only can social status change after death—identity, that is how an individual is perceived—can change as well. Even death, it seems, does not solidify an individual in social space.
