An AI version of you could live forever — but who would ‘you’ really be?

Living forever was once the stuff of sci-fi fantasy and Oasis song lyrics. No more. A digital recreation of you with no expiration date can be created for those who possess the money and desire.

Tech entrepreneurs are happily building AI-powered versions of human beings after their flesh and organs give way to reality.

For the most part, it’s been embraced by people who are aging or ill and want to leave versions of themselves behind after they pass away, rather than being solely driven by vanity.

For some, even the artificial can bring a sense of closure.

A New York widow felt relief when her dead husband made clear, via AI, that he was not in hell. And a German woman who took solace in a version of her deceased mom finding out she was a grandmother.

Beyond providing comfort for his children and grandchildren after he’s gone, Michael Staenberg, a 73-year-old high-net-worth real estate developer in St. Louis, is excited to leave behind a legacy of himself that could inspire others forever.

“I want to provide future generations with the opportunity to ask me how I lived and how I succeeded,” he told The Post, adding that he is working with a tech company called StoryFile that offers elaborate set-ups worthy of Hollywood productions — with the results to match.

“Maybe I can be a mentor. That is what excites me.”

However, such technology, when used politically and without advance permission of the deceased, also generates controversy.

For instance, Joaquin Oliver, one of 17 people killed in the Parkland, Florida, Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School mass shooting of 2018, spoke again this week via artificial intelligence.

Jim Acosta, the former chief White House Correspondent of CNN, interviewed the AI iteration of Oliver, who was gunned down at age 17, on Monday night.

Produced with the blessing of father Manuel Oliver, the computer animated face of Joaquin spoke in a voice which lacked normal intonations of the living but answered questions clearly. Referring to gun violence, he said, “It’s important to talk about these issues so we can create a safer future for everyone.”

There have been questions about the impact of using an AI version of Oliver to comment on gun violence.

“This use of AI takes advantage of the circumstance,” Daniel Chapin, founder and national director of the Uvalde Foundation for Kids, told The Post. “[It] takes away the human reality of a very real event. It gets watered down.”

Questions also loom about the ethics of computer-driven Oliver answering questions the real Oliver could not have considered.

“This interview style can’t possibly represent what this child wants to say in any reasonable way,” Hamy Farid, a Berkley University professor who focuses on digital forensics, told the Washington Post. “There are plenty of opportunities to use real victims . . . without resorting to this sort of stunt.”

Still, the technology is being widely embraced.

At best, it works like this: The person who will become an AI avatar is interviewed and filmed while still alive. They provide answers to a wide range of questions which form the basis of an AI self.

After the fact, an AI version of the person is created post-death, with voicemails, text messages, recordings and videos from everyday life added in to help create the everlasting version.

The artificial intelligence then draws on this database and has the ability to interpret it and discuss topics — even ones which were not included in the source material, so the dead can interact with the living.

Jason Gowin, a Pennsylvania-based comedian and co-host of a podcast called The Parent’s Lounge, who’s battling colon cancer is creating an AI version of himself to leave behind for his three children.

“For weddings and graduations and birthdays, my children will be able to speak with me,” Gowin told The Post. His wife, who suffered a stroke after childbirth and has recovered, is creating an AI version of herself as well.

“Those messages are already in there. This is something that my son has actually helped us build. He calls [the AI version of Gowin] Robo Dad.”

For the moment, Gowin, working with a West Coast company called You, Only Virtual, is all audio, but he is expecting video to be available over the course of the next six months or so.

And that will be handy, he said, “When my kids are older and they want to have a deep conversation with Robo Dad.”

You, Only Virtual charges $20 per month when customers choose to voice chat with their loved ones (otherwise, there is no fee for a stagnant AI), and offers a text-based service for free.

Justin Harrison, who heads up You, Only Virtual, came up with the technology when his mother was dying.

“My mom is very preserved digitally,” Harrison told The Post. “She was alive when we were building this. She got to meet herself digitally and that was a very cool experience.”

While Harrison’s mother knew that she would be getting the opportunity to sort of live on with her son, for some it also happens after the fact, unbeknownst to them. Unable to summon the dead, relatives and friends turn to tech and do the next best thing.

While there are those who question the ethics of reanimating a person who never saw it coming, Harrison has no such reservations.

“It’s not illegal and I equate it to taking a letter for the building of a memory book,” he said. “My mom’s gone. I’m here surviving in the world, making do without her. Our concern is with people who are still on Earth and still living.”

Taking the concept further, Alex Quinn is CEO of Authentic Interactions, the parent company of StoryFile, which uses cutting edge techniques and charges fees that can hit six figures. The next generation of their technology, he told The Post, will make conversations with the deceased seem as natural as a call on Zoom or FaceTime.

In order to get there, StoryFile’s sessions feature lights, camera, producer, green screen, family members often in the room, the voicing of phrases sure to come up — such as, “I love you, too” and “I don’t have an answer for that right now” — and several hundred questions asked of the subject. They might pertain to childhood recollections, landmark moments in life and how the person would respond to events likely to happen in the future.

As for what might have been discussed on question 1,001, that is where AI shines.

“Through the source material, you can make it sound and feel like a real conversation, to the extent that you’ve taken enough information to answer the question,” said Quinn. “But if you ask what the person thought of today’s Wall Street Journal, that’s obviously not in the reference data.

“Then you’re looking at probabilistic [as in predictive] language models to produce those outputs. Our job is to make it as authentic as possible.”

In accordance with its mission to preserve the future, StoryFile has also partnered with the National Medal of Honor Museum in Arlington, Texas, to launch “The Virtual Recipient” an AI-powered interactive exhibit that allows visitors to engage in lifelike conversations with five Vietnam War Medal of Honor recipients.

The exhibit enables guests to ask questions and receive authentic, pre-recorded video responses from: Jack Jacobs, Melvin Morris, Pat Brady, Tommy Norris, and Paris Davis, creating a personal and immersive experience.

The point of it all is to leave a mark when you leave the earth.

“People seek emotional comfort after someone passes,” said Quinn. “But, for me, it might be a little less about the emotional comfort and more about preserving the stories and memories that otherwise would assuredly be lost. No one wants to be forgotten; no matter who you are.”