We celebrate life by marking moments—birthdays, anniversaries, milestones. But what if you could measure life by the amount of time you have left?
That’s the premise behind the Death Clock, an app that uses artificial intelligence to predict your expiration date. For some users, this can be a powerful catalyst for change that inspires them to make better choices. For others, it can be a digital Pandora’s box, offering more anxiety than clarity.
The intent isn’t to incite fear, explains Brent Franson, Death Clock founder and CEO. It’s about giving people control over their futures. And his goal is bold: to help 100 million people add 10 more years to their lives.
The science behind the app
The Death Clock’s proprietary AI isn’t just pulling numbers out of thin air. It’s built on a foundation of actuarial data and government-produced life expectancy tables. But while those models offer broad life expectancy estimates, Death Clock refines these predictions by incorporating datasets from the CDC and drawing insights from over 1,200 longevity studies.
These studies include cutting-edge research from institutions such as UCLA, Stanford and NYU. This rich blend of data—along with the input from a clinical advisory board of doctors and researchers in longevity, preventative medicine and behavioral health—allows the app to craft highly personalized predictions, giving users a glimpse of how their unique lifestyle choices and habits could shape their future lifespan.
So how does it work? Users answer 29 detailed questions about their sleep patterns, diet, lifestyle habits and family medical history, like “How much of your day do you spend sitting?” and “What is your typical LDL cholesterol level?” For more accurate results, the app can be linked to wearable fitness and sleep trackers you already own. Blood tests and other health records can also be uploaded for analysis.
In return, the app delivers two projections: the exact date of your death if you stick to your current habits (mine is Tuesday, Oct. 17, 2062), and a more optimistic timeline—how many extra years you could gain by making healthier choices, like walking more or getting better sleep.
Franson believes that knowing the trajectory of your death can add clarity to your life.
“You’re going to die. That’s just a fact of life,” he says, matter-of-factly. “This existence we have is amazing, and it’s beautiful,” he continues. “We’re all lottery winners… but we don’t really notice it, because we’re just walking around with a bunch of other lottery winners.
“Whether you live to 75 or whether you live to 150, it’s too short…. Being reminded [of] this can help you savor the time that you do have.”
Motivation fueled by mortality
For many users, the Death Clock isn’t a harbinger of doom, Franson says. It’s a wake-up call. Seeing a number stamped on your remaining years taps into something primal: the instinct to fight for more time. And unlike a doctor’s gentle nudge to eat better or exercise more, seeing a timeline laid out in stark digits hits differently. It can force one to immediately confront the consequences of an extra martini or those skipped workouts.
That’s why the app doesn’t just solely dish out cold, hard death dates. It nudges users toward healthier habits, offering personalized recommendations that can shift their projected life expectancy. Quit smoking? You might gain a couple of years. Start hitting 10,000 steps daily? Your countdown gets a little longer. It’s like having a digital health coach in your pocket.
While the exact date the app gives isn’t necessarily spot-on, Franson believes it is “directionally accurate.” That is, it can help people quantify the longer-term impact of the decisions they make today and take action now. “The Alzheimer’s I get at 70 or the heart disease that gives me a heart attack at 75, that stuff starts at 40,” Franson says.
For him, these numbers were more than just data points—they were a personal alarm bell. When he first tried the app for himself, it predicted he’d die at age 78. “My heart health isn’t great and I don’t sleep well and I’ve got a lot of stress,” he admits. But the app also predicted he could reach age 93 with some adjustments to his lifestyle. “I’ve got three kids, [so] 93 sounds a lot better to me than 78.” That gap could be the difference between seeing his grandchildren hit important milestones or not, he adds.
While users can discover their predicted death date for free, those looking for a deeper dive can opt for a personalized longevity plan. The app offers a free trial, after which users can continue for just $40 a year.
The potential for anxiety
While some users might find motivation in their mortality, others could spiral into anxiety. Bertalan Meskó, Ph.D., also known as “The Medical Futurist,” has spent years analyzing the intersection of technology and health care, and warns that AI-powered mortality predictions can be a psychological minefield.
Questioning the real-world value for patients, Meskó says, “Using such apps might even cause additional anxiety, as it’s complicated enough to do disease or health management in the jungle of health care data, information and decisions.”
One potential problem lies in how our brains process uncertainty. While the Death Clock’s predictions are based on sophisticated algorithms and large datasets, these can’t account for the unpredictable nature of life. For instance, no amount of data can predict a sudden car accident or environmental factors beyond our control that may result in death. Yet, for some users, that projected date can feel set in stone, an unavoidable end point looming in the distance. This illusion of certainty can be misleading, too, lulling users into a false sense of security. If the app predicts you’ll live to 92, it’s easy to assume you’ve got decades to spare, leading to procrastination instead of action.
There’s also the risk of cyberchondria, a modern phenomenon where excessive exposure to health-related information online fuels unnecessary worry. Imagine receiving a predicted death date and then falling down a rabbit hole of Google searches, obsessing over longevity hacks and health risks. Instead of inspiring positive change, it can lead to a life consumed by fear and hypervigilance.
Meskó points out that while AI is transforming health care, integrating it into patients’ lives in a meaningful, safe way is a complex challenge.
“It is inevitable to use this breakthrough technology for fine-tuning medical decisions and lifestyle choices,” he explains. “However, it is indeed an ethical and cultural challenge to help patients deal with the influx of suggestions and pieces of advice.”
In other words, AI has the potential to empower users with valuable insights, but without proper context or guidance, it can overwhelm rather than enlighten. When mortality predictions are delivered without a framework for emotional support or expert interpretation, users may find themselves drowning in data, unable to distinguish actionable advice from existential noise.
As AI continues to revolutionize health care, the Death Clock offers a fascinating glimpse into how technology can shape our relationship with mortality. Meskó believes that AI can be a powerful tool for improving health outcomes, but it works best when paired with human expertise and empathy.
“The absolute best strategy in dealing with the use of advanced technologies in health care is by discussing it with medical professionals,” he advises. “In an ideal way, physicians and patients should use these technologies to improve their relationships. They should be able to deal with cybersecurity and ethical risks together, while patients are proactively discovering the use of AI in their care, and their physicians could act as guides during the process.”
Photo by Bolyuk Studio/Shutterstock
