When Grief Is Monetized: The Unauthorized Republishing of Obituaries

 
painting of a candle in front of a background wit 010101 repeating.

While researching intellectual property breaches for a professional certification in risk management, I came across ‘obituary piracy,’ a term that would soon become painfully personal. For context, obituary piracy is the unauthorized copying, republishing, or fabrication of online obituaries in order to make money.

Then it hit home. I searched for my deceased son’s name and was shocked to find that a site called Echovita had republished his obituary without our permission, altered key facts, and offered memorial products like digital candles, trees, and flowers, presenting themselves as the original source. It had been live for over two years, completely unbeknownst to me or our family.

This troubling phenomenon isn’t unique to my family. CBC News reported in August 2024 that Canadian funeral directors were warning about unauthorized obituaries appearing online, often without the knowledge or consent of families. Similarly, CTV News highlighted in January 2025 that more Ontario families are coming forward after discovering obituaries “scraped” from funeral homes or newspapers and republished on websites without consent.

Echovita, a Quebec-based company, republishes obituaries without authorization, often altering the content, and monetizes them by selling flowers, trees, and digital candles. La Presse reported in February 2025 that some companies have earned millions from republishing obituaries, profiting from families’ grief while misleading the public into thinking they are interacting with the original funeral home. This practice undermines trust in legitimate businesses and inflicts real emotional harm on grieving families.

The page was removed – not out of good faith, accountability, or recognition of harm – but through a hollow, transactional email acknowledging my request. As a bereaved parent, I found this deeply distressing; as a professional, ethically indefensible.

When Memories Are Muddied: The Harm of Obituary Piracy

Obituary piracy isn’t just a legal or digital problem – it’s deeply personal. Families entrust obituaries with their loved ones’ stories, carefully crafting the final narrative of a life. The trust is not in the internet at large, but in the chosen funeral home or publication to act as a responsible steward of the content. When those words are copied, altered, or republished as part of a commercial scheme, it can feel like that trust has been violated. Even small changes – dates, names, or phrasing – can twist the memory, leaving grief tangled in misinformation and digital noise.

In his article, Distasteful Yes, But Not Copyright Infringement: Publishing “Basic Fact” Unauthorized Obituaries is Going Strong (And Often Getting it Wrong), copyright writer and author Hugh Stevens notes that unauthorized obituaries often get the facts wrong, sometimes inadvertently, but the effect is the same: misleading information and emotional distress for families.

The harm isn’t just about accuracy. It’s about emotional labor. Grieving families have already shouldered the weight of loss; having a loved one’s story misrepresented online adds confusion, frustration, and pain to an already vulnerable time. Seeing an obituary turned into a marketing opportunity – selling digital candles, trees, or flowers – can feel like someone is profiting from your sorrow.

The ripple effects extend to friends and acquaintances as well. Someone who knew the deceased might come across the pirated obituary, write in the guest book, or even make a purchase in memory, only to later realize that the obituary contains inaccuracies or alterations. Imagine the dissonance and frustration when someone close to the deceased sees key facts wrong: a misremembered date, a misspelled name, or a misrepresented achievement. CBC and CTV reports from 2024 and 2025 document families expressing shock and anger at such inaccuracies, calling the experience “offensive” and “violating.”

Moreover, obituary piracy undermines the work of funeral homes and newspapers, who spend time and care preserving these stories. The Bereavement Authority of Ontario has issued notices warning consumers about replicated or pirated obituaries, emphasizing that these practices damage trust in professional institutions that families rely on during difficult moments.

In short, obituary piracy is a violation of consent, dignity, and memory. It’s not just ‘sloppy’ content; it’s an intrusion into one of the most private, sacred acts of human life: remembering and honouring someone who has passed.

A Legal Grey Zone

This emerging issue occupies a murky legal space. Is using public, published information considered theft? Does it matter if the content is slightly altered? What if the company profits from it?

As Hugh Stevens mentions in his article, while unauthorized obituaries can misrepresent information, reproducing basic factual details, like names, dates, and places, it is generally not considered copyright infringement. He writes:

“Past cases show how murky this space is: Afterlife, a predecessor to Echovita, was fined $20 million for unauthorized use of death notices before declaring bankruptcy and rebranding. Successor sites like Everhere and Echovita skirt the law – altering content slightly while monetizing grief – making accountability elusive.”

This legal ambiguity allows companies to profit from grieving families while staying mostly within the bounds of current copyright law. The issue, however, is not ambiguity alone but structural absence: copyright law offers limited protection for obituaries, and privacy law provides insufficient safeguards against their commercial misuse. The gap underscores why regulators, including the Funeral Services Association of Canada, are lobbying for stronger privacy protections and ethical standards to prevent further exploitation.

What Families and Professionals Can Do

While families can request removal of unauthorized obituaries, more proactive measures are needed. The Bereavement Authority of Ontario advises families to periodically search for their loved ones’ obituaries online and contact sites directly if content has been pirated or altered. CBC News (July 2024) and CTV News (January 2025) highlight that families are increasingly taking these steps, but awareness remains low.

Funeral homes and newspapers can also play a key role by adding disclaimers under obituaries, warning readers that unauthorized reproductions may exist, similar to how banks alert customers about phishing scams. Funeral Services Association of Canada representatives are lobbying the federal government for stronger privacy legislation to protect bereaved families from these predatory practices.

Our funeral home contact, Maureen, was remarkable: empathetic, attentive, and professional. Echovita’s actions were a disservice not just to families, but also to dedicated professionals like her. For now, a simple but effective preventive measure is to enter your deceased loved ones’ names along with “obituary” into a search engine and act quickly if pirated content appears.

Reflections on a Digital World

Ultimately, this is a time to reflect on consent, privacy, emotional labor, and respectful mourning in a digital world where nothing sacred is off-limits.

As Canadian media coverage makes clear, this isn’t just a technical or legal problem; it’s a deeply human one. Families’ memories are being commodified, altered, and misrepresented online, creating emotional harm that technology alone cannot fix.

This digital age requires vigilance. We must balance innovation with ethics, and automation with empathy. If you’ve lost someone, search for their obituary online today. Awareness is the first step to safeguarding memories—and dignity—in a digital age.

 
Guest Blogger: Angela Hartwick

Angela Hartwick is a mother of four living in Ottawa, Ontario. She holds degrees in English Literature and Social Work, and works in risk management—which means she’s trained to overanalyze, craves fairness for all, and applies risk logic to everything, even packing school lunches.

But in 2022, her world was irrevocably shattered when her 15-year-old son died by suicide—an outcome no amount of foresight could prevent. Her writing is shaped by grief, love, and the quiet, stubborn hope that insists on rising—despite everything.

In her quieter moments, she drinks too much coffee, reads too many books, chauffeurs her younger kids to sports, and sneaks in workouts when she can.

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