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Here's why people say they're using 'Are You Dead?' and apps like it

A person holds a phone that displays the "Are You Dead?" app in Paris on Jan. 22.
Felice Rosa
/
Hans Lucas/AFP via Getty Images
A person holds a phone that displays the "Are You Dead?" app in Paris on Jan. 22.

Each day, after feeding his cat and tidying up his home, Johnny Miller has one more task left on his to-do list: confirm on his phone that he is indeed still alive.

He does this through a Chinese app called Sileme, which is Mandarin for "Are You Dead?" Its function is in its morbid name: Users check in with the app daily. If they miss a number of check-ins, the app notifies a designated emergency contact.

"It's kind of nice. It's almost like someone cares," said Miller, 57, a former IT analyst from Seguin, Texas.

While part of the app's appeal is its dark humor, many people who live alone have signed up for its practicality and to relieve a very serious fear of dying unbeknownst to anyone for days or weeks.

Soon after its release last summer, the app went viral — first among young people in China — sparking discourse about the country's grueling work culture, dwindling marriage rates and a shift toward individualism. Then, this January, the app found international appeal, becoming a top paid download in the Apple Store in Australia, Spain, and the U.S. (The app recently changed its English name to "Demumu" which is a combination of death and the plush toy Labubu, according to Wired. )

In many countries around the world, more people are living by themselves. That includes the U.S., where over a quarter of all households comprise one person — more than double the share in 1960, according to 2020 Census data. The nation's trend toward physical solitude also parallels rates of loneliness and social isolation.

Demumu is one of many safety apps that have popped up over the years, designed for people living solo. Their demand reflects broader changes within modern society, such as a decline in face-to-face social interaction and an erosion of mutual reliance, according to Julianne Holt-Lunstad, director of the Social Connection & Health Lab at Brigham Young University.

"This isn't a personal failure but, rather, we live in a society in which there are so many barriers that make it harder and harder to connect socially," she said.

Not just a worry among older adults 

The idea behind Snug Safety, a similar safety check-in app, was born out of a conversation with a 70-year-old woman who was living by herself and worried that no one would know if something were to happen to her, according to Snug Safety CEO Preet Anand.

"We realized there's a real need here," he said.

With that in mind, the app initially catered to older adults. But over time, Anand saw a diverse range of people using Snug Safety. That includes single mothers, college students, pet owners and people with health conditions who want to live independently.

To Anand, his app offers a "daily touchpoint" at a time when consistent, everyday contact with others has become increasingly difficult to cultivate organically. He found that these touchpoints tend to be especially tough to develop for people who work remotely or have moved to a new city.

"Independence is a great thing until independence is taken so far that it results in isolation," he said.

Anand pointed out that other popular social media features, such as Snapchat "streaks," Facebook's "Poke" function, as well as the Words With Friends app, unintentionally serve a similar purpose.

"It's a widespread human desire to feel safe and to know that the people we care about are safe," he said.

Jamie Gartner, 40, a writing coach from Syracuse, N.Y., said she downloaded Snug Safety after having a mental health breakdown a few years ago. Since she lives alone, Gartner was nervous about the welfare of her two dogs and two cats if anything were to happen to her.

"That ultimately was my biggest concern," she said. "If I couldn't make it through, what would happen to my animals and how would I know that they would be OK."

That chapter of her life also brought a sobering reassessment of her social ties. When she was at her lowest, Gartner said very few people checked in on her. She added that even now, as a result of switching to remote work, she can go up to a week without interacting with another human being face-to-face.

It's why, although her mental health has improved, Gartner has kept using Snug Safety.

"Even feeling like somebody would check up on you if you did forget to check in with the app, is also a nice feeling," she said.

But Gartner hopes that she won't need to use the app forever – that one day, she can replace a digital check-in with a life partner or a group of friends.

Disconnected and disengaging 

A majority of U.S. adults only get together with people they care about twice a month or less, according to a survey published last year led by Holt-Lunstad from Brigham Young University. Most adults also don't participate in group activities, like clubs or community organizations, the survey found. Holt-Lunstad attributed the growing isolation in part to social media.

"As we spend time on social media, for example, it may also give false cues that we are connecting with others," she said.

Due to technological interdependence and changing social norms, people are relying less on one another, she added. But offering and asking for help are crucial for connection, according to Holt-Lunstad, who was also the lead scientist editor on the U.S. surgeon general's landmark advisory on social isolation and loneliness, published in 2023.

"Not only are we disconnected in a variety of ways, we are also disengaging," she said.

In Tucson, Ariz., 64-year-old Kenneth Badertscher said it's been challenging to build relationships with his neighbors. Most of the residents in his apartment complex are college students or young families who tend to move after a couple of years, according to Badertscher. As a kid, knowing his neighbors was the norm, he said.

Then, last year, Badertscher learned about the Snug Safety. He brought it up to a neighbor who lives upstairs, who then mentioned it to another tenant. Now, all three use the app and serve as one another's emergency contact.

"With the first person I talked to, she was actually very relieved," he said. "She hadn't been in contact with her family very much. So, she thought it was a great idea."

Badertscher spends a good chunk of time alone in his apartment. His wife died a few years ago from breast cancer and he recently stopped working due to his mental health concerns. He also adopted a new puppy. To his surprise, the shared responsibility amongst his neighbors through the Snug Safety app brought them closer.

"There's this added dimension of what would otherwise be a casual friendship," he said.

'A comfort knowing that I'm not the only one'

Tugrul Cirakoglu has seen first-hand what happens when someone's dead body goes unnoticed for days or weeks. It's what made Cirakoglu, who runs a crime scene cleaning company in the Netherlands, build Alone, another app that prompts regular check-ins.

"It's really sad seeing these things and I thought to myself, if I have an app then we can prevent this from happening," he said. "Even if we can't prevent it fully, like somebody still dies unattended, at least he doesn't lay there for weeks or months or years."

Cirakoglu also runs a YouTube channel focused on raising awareness about unattended deaths. Occasionally, he receives comments questioning why people should care what happens after they die. To Cirakoglu, those users don't fully grasp how unrecognizable a body becomes when it decomposes or the toll such deaths have on loved ones.

" When you see the images that we share and how people just melt away, nobody wants that," he said.

The fear of dying without anyone knowing crystallized for Miller, the former IT analyst from Seguin, Tx., after he retired early and bought a few acres of land to build his forever home. He accomplished his life goals and generally likes living solo, but didn't realize how difficult it would be to stay in touch with his friends and bandmates once he moved.

"There's very little real communication these days. People are just doing their own thing," he said.

Miller plans to volunteer and join a local walking group. But for now, the Demumu app brings some relief. Watching the mobile tool go viral also gave him a sense of community.

"Strangely, it's kind of been a comfort knowing that I'm not the only one and that a lot of other people are in the same boat," he said.

Copyright 2026 NPR

Juliana Kim
Juliana Kim is a weekend reporter for Digital News, where she adds context to the news of the day and brings her enterprise skills to NPR's signature journalism.