ethics – UAB Institute for Human Rights Blog

Greenland is Melting! Temperatures are Sweltering!

Greenland, home to the world’s second-largest ice sheet, is rapidly losing its ice. This isn’t just a faraway problem for scientists to worry about—it’s a global issue that affects all of us. But why is this happening, and what does it mean? Let’s break it down.

An image of greenland with no snow — Image 1: The snowless, changing landscape of Greenland. Source: Yahoo Images.

Why Is Greenland’s Ice Melting?

Greenland’s ice sheet covers about 80% of the country. It’s so big that if it melted completely, sea levels around the world would rise by about 7.4 meters (24 feet). Over the last few decades, temperatures in the Arctic have been rising twice as fast as the global average. Warmer air melts the ice from above, while warmer ocean water melts it from below. These processes are speeding up, causing Greenland to lose billions of tons of ice yearly.

One key concept in understanding the melting ice is albedo. Albedo is a measure of how much sunlight a surface reflects. Think about it this way:

Ice and snow are bright and white, reflecting most sunlight back into space and cooling the planet.
Darker surfaces like ocean water or bare ground absorb more sunlight, causing them to heat up.

As Greenland’s ice melts, it exposes darker surfaces, which absorb more heat. This causes even more ice to melt—a dangerous feedback loop. To be specific, Greenland is losing, on average, 269 billion metric tons of ice annually.

The merciless albedo feedback loop. The loop proceeds as follows: "Melting of sea ice" --> "Lowered albedo" --> "Increase in absorbed sunlight" --> "Melting of sea ice" — Image 2: The merciless albedo feedback loop. Source: Yahoo Images.

The formation of an ice sheet isn’t random; it depends on Earth’s geography and climate. The movement of Earth’s continents, known as continental drift, plays a key role in ice sheet formation. Continents near the poles (like Greenland and Antarctica) are ideal because they receive less sunlight, creating cooler conditions. The most essential requirement for an ice sheet to grow is cool summer temperatures. Snow that falls during winter must not melt entirely during the summer. Instead, it compacts and builds up over thousands of years, forming thick layers of ice.

How Does This Affect Climate Change?

The melting ice in Greenland contributes to climate change in several ways:

Rising Sea Levels. When ice sheets melt, water flows into the ocean, significantly elevating sea levels. This poses a direct threat to coastal communities worldwide, putting them at risk of flooding and erosion.

Disrupted Ocean Currents. Melting ice adds massive amounts of freshwater to the salty ocean, disrupting critical ocean currents like the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation (AMOC), which helps regulate the Earth’s climate. If these currents slow down, they could lead to more extreme weather patterns, such as harsher winters in some places and stronger hurricanes in others.

More Greenhouse Gases. Melting ice can release trapped greenhouse gases, like methane, from the frozen ground beneath it (called permafrost). These gases contribute to further warming, making the problem even worse.

Oceans are Rising! How are people surviving?

While Greenland may seem far away, its melting ice affects everyone. Rising sea levels threaten millions of people living in coastal cities, from Miami to Mumbai. Disrupted weather patterns can lead to more severe storms, droughts, and heatwaves, which impact food supplies and economies. We are all part of this global community, and we all share the consequences of climate change.

The melting of Greenland’s ice sheet is not just an environmental issue—it’s a human rights issue. Climate change, driven by the loss of ice sheets and rising global temperatures, threatens people’s right to life, health, food, water, and security. Communities around the world, particularly those in coastal and marginalized areas, are already experiencing the devastating consequences.

The United Nations recognizes climate change as a human rights issue because it disproportionately affects vulnerable populations. As the ice melts, coastal communities are being swallowed by the sea. Small island nations like Tuvalu and the Maldives are at risk of disappearing. Millions of people in low-lying regions (Bangladesh, Florida, Louisiana) could be displaced, creating climate refugees who have nowhere to go.

Even with ambitious climate change policies like the Paris Agreement, sea levels are projected to rise between 20 to 60 cm (7.8 to 23.6 inches) by 2100. This rise poses a significant threat to coastal communities, as up to 216 million people (2.6% of the earth’s population) currently live on land that will be below sea level or experience regular flooding by the end of the century.

A person holding up a sign that says "Climate Change = More Climate Refugees" — Image 3: Climate change advocates. Source: Yahoo Images.

Greenhouse gases trap heat and keep the planet warm. The most common are carbon dioxide (CO2), Methane (CH4), Nitrous Oxide (N2O), Ozone (O3), and water. Without them, Earth would be too cold for humans and most life to survive, but with too much, we are slowly roasting the planet. This raises an ethical dilemma: Are we morally obligated to rehome climate refugees? If giving up air conditioning could save thousands of lives, should people’s basic needs for food and shelter outweigh our desire for convenience?

Wealthy countries and corporations have contributed the most to climate change, yet poorer nations are more likely to bear the brunt of the damage. Those with fewer resources—marginalized communities, Indigenous groups, and low-income families—struggle the most to adapt and recover.

The biggest contributors to global emissions are China, the United States, and India, together responsible for 42.6% of total greenhouse gas emissions. The U.S. alone accounts for 13.5% of global emissions, making it the world’s second-largest carbon emitter. If the U.S. is responsible for 13.5% of lost islander homes, should we also be 13.5% responsible for their survival? Should we take action even if no other country accepts accountability? Even if it requires more than what we are “technically” obligated to do?

What Can We Do?

The good news is that there are solutions. Reducing greenhouse gas emissions is the most essential step. This means using cleaner energy sources like wind and solar, improving energy efficiency, and protecting forests. On an individual level, even small actions make a difference—using less energy, advocating for climate policies, and spreading awareness. One of the most powerful things you can do is start a conversation. Simply talking about climate change can introduce new ideas and inspire action.

Greenland’s melting ice may seem far away, but its impact is a stark reminder that we are all connected. If we act now, we can protect our planet and future generations. The question is not whether we can make a difference but whether we will.

Griefbots: Blurring the Reality of Death and the Illusion of Life

Griefbots are an emerging technological phenomenon designed to mimic deceased individuals’ speech, behaviors, and even personalities. These digital entities are often powered by artificial intelligence, trained on data such as text messages, social media posts, and recorded conversations of the deceased. The concept of griefbots gained traction in the popular imagination through portrayals in television and film, such as the episode “Be Right Back” from the TV series Black Mirror. As advancements in AI continue to accelerate, griefbots have shifted from speculative fiction to a budding reality, raising profound ethical and human rights questions.

Griefbots are marketed as tools to comfort the grieving, offering an opportunity to maintain a sense of connection with lost loved ones. However, their implementation brings complex challenges that transcend technology and delve into the realms of morality, autonomy, and exploitation. While the intentions behind griefbots might seem compassionate, their broader implications require careful consideration. With the rising intricacy of the morality of AI, I want to explore some of the ethical aspects of griefbots and ask questions to push the conversation along. My goal is not to strongly advocate for or against their usage but to engage in philosophical debate.

Ethical and Human Rights Ramifications of Grief Bots

Commercial Exploitation of Grief

The commercialization of griefbots raises significant concerns about exploitation. Grieving individuals, in their emotional vulnerability, may be susceptible to expensive services marketed as tools for solace. This commodification of mourning could be seen as taking advantage of grief for profit. Additionally, if griefbots are exploitative, it prompts us to reconsider the ethicality of other death-related industries, such as funeral services and memorialization practices, which also operate within a profit-driven framework.

However, the difference between how companies currently capitalize on griefbots and how the death industry generates profit is easier to tackle than the other implications of this service. Most companies producing and selling griefbots charge for their services through subscriptions or minute-by-minute payments, distinguishing them from other death-related industries. Companies may have financial incentives to keep grieving individuals engaged with their services. To achieve this, algorithms could be designed to optimize interactions, maximizing the time a grieving person spends with the chatbot and ensuring long-term subscriptions. These algorithms might even subtly adjust the bot’s personality to make it more appealing over time, creating a pleasing caricature rather than an accurate reflection of the deceased.

As these interactions become increasingly tailored to highlight what users most liked about their loved ones, the griefbot may unintentionally alter or oversimplify memories of the deceased, fostering emotional dependency. This optimization could transform genuine mourning into a form of addiction. In contrast, if companies opted to charge a one-time activation fee rather than ongoing payments, would this shift the ethical implications? In such a case, could griefbots be equated to services like cremation—a one-time fee for closure—or would the potential for misuse still pose moral concerns?

Posthumous Harm and Dignity

Epicurus, an ancient Greek philosopher, famously argued that death is not harmful to the deceased because, once dead, they no longer exist to experience harm. Griefbots challenge the assumption that deceased individuals are beyond harm. From Epicurus’s perspective, griefbots would not harm the dead, as there is no conscious subject to be wronged. However, the contemporary philosopher Joel Feinberg contests this view by suggesting that posthumous harm is possible when an individual’s reputation, wishes, or legacy are violated. Misrepresentation or misuse of a griefbot could distort a person’s memory or values, altering how loved ones and society remember them. These distortions may result from incomplete or biased data, creating an inaccurate portrayal of the deceased. Such inaccuracies could harm the deceased’s dignity and legacy, raising concerns about how we ethically represent and honor the dead.

a version of Michelangelo's famous painting "The Creation of Adam" but with a robot hand instead of Adam's — Image 2: A robot version of Michelangelo’s painting “the Creation of Adam” Source: Yahoo Images

Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states, “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.” Because griefbots are supposed to represent a deceased person, they have the potential to disrespect people’s dignity by falsifying that person’s reason and consciousness. By creating an artificial version of someone’s reasoning or personality that may not align with their true self, griefbots risk distorting their essence and reducing the person’s memory to a fabrication.

But imagine a case in which an expert programmer develops a chatbot to represent himself. He perfectly understands every line of coding and can predict how the griefbot will honor his legacy. If there is no risk to the harm of his dignity, is there still an ethical issue at hand?

Consent and Autonomy

Various companies allow people to commission an AI ghost before their death by answering a set of questions and uploading their information. If individuals consent to create a griefbot during their lifetime, it might seem to address questions of autonomy. However, consent provided before death cannot account for unforeseen uses or misuse of the technology. How informed can consent truly be when the long-term implications and potential misuse of the technology are not fully understood when consent is given? Someone agreeing to create a griefbot may envision it as a comforting tool for loved ones. Yet, they cannot anticipate future technological advancements that could repurpose their digital likeness in ways they never intended.

This issue also intersects with questions of autonomy after death. While living individuals are afforded the right to make decisions about their posthumous digital presence, their inability to adapt or revoke these decisions as circumstances change raises ethical concerns. In HI-PHI Nation’s Podcast, The Wishes of the Dead, they explore how the wishes of deceased individuals, particularly wealthy ones, continue to shape the world long after their death. The episode uses Milton Hershey, founder of Hershey Chocolate, as a case study. Hershey created a charitable trust to fund a school for orphaned boys and endowed it with his company’s profits. Despite changes in societal norms and the needs of the community, the trust still operates according to Hershey’s original stipulations. Critics questioned whether continuing to operate according to Hershey’s 20th-century ideals was still relevant in the modern era, where gender equality and broader educational access have become more central concerns.

Chatbots do not have the ability to evolve and grow the way that humans do. Barry explains the foundation of this concept by saying, “One problem with executing deeds in perpetuity is that dead people are products of their own times. They don’t change what they want when the world changes.” And even if growth was implemented into the algorithm, there is no guarantee it would be reflective of how a person changes. Griefbots might preserve a deceased person’s digital presence in ways that could become problematic or irrelevant over time. Although griefbots do not have the legal status of an estate or will, they still preserve a person’s legacy in a similar fashion. If Hershey was alive today, would he modify his estate to reflect his legacy?

It could be argued that the difference between Hershey’s case and Chatbots is that wills and estates are designed to execute a person’s final wishes, but they are inherently limited in scope and duration. Griefbots, by contrast, have the potential to persist indefinitely, amplifying the damage to one’s reputation. Does this difference encompass the true scope of the issue at hand, or would it be viable to argue that if chatbots are unethical, then persisting estates would be equally unethical as well?

A picture of someone having a conversation with a chatbot — Image 3: A person having a conversation with a chatbot. Source: Yahoo Images

Impact on Mourning and Healing

Griefbots have the potential to fundamentally alter the mourning process by offering an illusion of continued presence. Traditionally, grieving involves accepting the absence of a loved one, allowing individuals to process their emotions and move toward healing. However, interacting with a griefbot may disrupt or delay this natural progression. By creating a sense of ongoing connection with the deceased, these digital avatars could prevent individuals from fully confronting the reality of the loss, potentially prolonging the pain of bereavement.

At the same time, griefbots could serve as a therapeutic tool for some individuals, providing comfort during difficult times. Grief is a deeply personal experience and for certain people, using chatbots as a means of processing loss might offer a temporary coping mechanism. In some cases, they might help people navigate the early, overwhelming stages of grief by allowing them to “speak” with a version of their loved one, helping them feel less isolated. Given the personal nature of mourning, it is essential to acknowledge that each individual has the right to determine the most effective way for them to manage their grief, including whether or not they choose to use this technology.

However, the decision to engage with griefbots is not always straightforward. It is unclear whether individuals in the throes of grief can make fully autonomous decisions, as emotions can cloud judgment during such a vulnerable time. Grief may impair an individual’s ability to think clearly, and thus, the use of griefbots might not always be a conscious, rational choice but rather one driven by overwhelming emotion.

Nora Freya Lindemann, a doctoral student researching the ethics of AI, proposes that griefbots could be classified as medical devices designed to assist in managing prolonged grief disorder (PGD). PGD is characterized by intense, persistent sorrow and difficulty accepting the death of a loved one. Symptoms of this disorder could potentially be alleviated with the use of griefbots, provided they are carefully regulated. Lindemann suggests that in this context, griefbots would require stringent guidelines to ensure their safety and effectiveness. This would involve rigorous testing to prove that these digital companions are genuinely beneficial and do not cause harm. Moreover, they should only be made available to individuals diagnosed with PGD rather than to anyone newly bereaved to prevent unhealthy attachments and over-reliance.

Despite the potential benefits, the psychological impact of griefbots remains largely unexplored. It is crucial to consider how these technologies affect emotional healing in the long term. While they may offer short-term comfort, the risk remains that they could hinder the natural grieving process, leading individuals to avoid the painful yet necessary work of acceptance and moving forward. As the technology develops, further research will be essential to determine the full implications of griefbots on the grieving process and to ensure that they are used responsibly and effectively.

Conclusion

Griefbots are at the intersection of cutting-edge technology and age-old human concerns about mortality, memory, and ethics. While they hold potential for comfort and connection, their implementation poses significant ethical and human rights challenges. The concepts I explored only scratch the surface of the iceberg. As society navigates this uncharted territory, we must critically examine its implications and find ways to use AI responsibly. The questions it raises are complex, but they offer an opportunity to redefine how we approach death and the digital legacies we leave behind.

Kenya and Beyond: Including Human Rights in Conservation

Nelson and Maggie Reiyia watched in despair as their community slowly fell into decline despite tourism profits from nearby Maasai Mara National Reserve. As indigenous Maasai themselves, the Reiyias were determined to reinvigorate their community despite the massive forces of ‘big’ conservation and outside development. Thus, they set out to create the first Maasai-run conservancy in the history of Kenya and reconnect their people, culture, and livestock to the land and its wild inhabitants.

A Maasai man in traditional red clothing overlooks the Sekenani River. Nearby vegetation reflects off the water's rippled surface. — A Maasai tribe member overlooks the Sekenani River. The Sekenani restoration project is one of many local initiatives conducted by the Nashulai Conservancy. (Photo credit: The Nashulai Conservancy, http://www.nashulai.com/sekenani-river-restoration)

Historically, the Maasai and other Kenyan tribes occupied these lands until Western colonial powers began to forcibly move people to make room for themselves and their ever expanding game reserves. Sadly, there is a long history of colonial and post-colonial entities removing people from their lands in the name of conservation and game management. This tendency to ‘Other’ people unlike us – that is, to assume their inferiority as humans – continues to taint conservation and often results in counterproductive efforts to save endangered species.

Sadly, this model of conservation has been adopted the world over and partly stems from the assumption that Indigenous people lack the ability to govern themselves or the knowledge to sustainably manage their lands. Yet, in the case of the Maasai, they have occupied the landscape long enough for it to become an integral part of their culture and worldview. Of course this is hardy meant to reference to the outdated ‘noble savage’ cliché; rather, it is an attempt to force us to consider who was already managing these lands and critical resources before the colonizers arrived.

A herd of wildebeest and zebras meandering about the vast and empty Maasai Mara National Reserve. — A herd of wildebeests cross the Maasai Mara National Reserve. Every year the migration of these animals attracts tourists from around the globe. (Photo credit: Sherrie Alexander)

An additional assumption held by Western society and much of modern conservation is that people should be removed from their lands in order to establish pristine areas for wildlife. Enter the additional force of tourism – a massive economic influence that often turns sentiments against local populations thought to be spoiling the landscape, competing with wildlife, and over-hunting the animals we so desperately seek on our travels. Don’t get me wrong, tourism can be a positive source of income for a region. But when money takes precedence over people depending on ancestral lands, it is unethical at best.

Finally, we cannot forget the horrid calls to shoot poachers on-sight and emotional outcries against trophy hunting. In our Western need to anthropomorphize wildlife, especially the ‘cute’ or charismatic animals, we fail to see the socioeconomic complexities of people and place. We also have to remind ourselves these are not our animals to govern. These animals – if they can be thought of to belong to anyone – are clearly in the domain of the countries in which they reside and the people living among them. In other instances, certain animals represent a critical source of local income through legal trophy hunting. But as we saw with the ‘Cecil the Lion’ outrage, the Western world is appalled at the thought of killing a lion for any reason while giving little thought to the ribeye steak on our dinner plate.

Conservation is complicated so we have to look at the bigger picture. It is often as much about humans as it is about wildlife and ‘wild’ spaces. The combined result of ‘Othering’ indigenous populations and disregarding their traditional ecological knowledge, while simultaneously anthropomorphizing wildlife and claiming ownership over entire ecosystems, has led us to our current circumstances. While many conservation initiatives are beginning to take local and Indigenous voices into account, the unfortunate fact is that neocolonial conservation is alive and well.

Over the last decade I have watched as the push for social science integration with conservation biology has slowly gained momentum. Such calls for interdisciplinary approaches have arisen from the desperate need to better understand the multifaceted human dimension of conservation. ‘Fortress conservation’ and the forced removal of people from their lands, or lack of access to resources and profits from their lands, are outdated practices and clear human-rights violations. From conservation to tourism, local cultures have a right to be included. In fact, research from myself and others has demonstrated that when communities are intimately involved there is an increased likelihood of long-term conservation success.

The Nashulai model diagrams depicts their commitment to helping both people and wildlife while also preserving cultural heritage. — The integrated Nashulai model emphasizes the need to help both people and wildlife while also preserving cultural heritage. (Image credit: The Nashulai Conservancy, http://www.nashulai.com/)

After hearing Nelson and Maggie Reiyia speak at UAB about their indigenous-run conservancy and the advances they have achieved for both their cultural and biological heritage, I believe there is hope that we can shift the narrative of conservation to one that is more inclusive and ethical. Simply put, supporting initiatives like the Nashulai Conservancy can help push back against ongoing injustices and bring human rights to the forefront of conservation.

Sherrie D. Alexander, MA
University of Alabama at Birmingham, Researcher and Instructor of Anthropology
IUCN Primate Specialist Group, Section for Human-Primate Interactions, Member
Barbary Macaque Awareness and Conservation, North American representative

Land acknowledgement: The University of Alabama at Birmingham is located on the traditional lands of the Muskogee Creek Indians.