Picture the person who would settle your affairs if something happened to you tomorrow. Maybe it's your spouse, your sister, your adult kid. Now hand them your life as it actually exists: two email addresses, a bank you've only ever visited through an app, a brokerage account, twenty years of family photos in the cloud, a domain name that auto-renews to a card they can't access, a crypto wallet with a seed phrase you've never spoken aloud, and a couple hundred logins protected by a password manager they don't know exists — behind a phone they can't unlock.

Traditional estate planning has this problem mostly solved for physical things. The will names who gets the house. The deed, the titles, and the beneficiary forms do the paperwork. But the average person now carries a second, invisible estate made of accounts — and for most families, nothing covers the logins.

The result isn't hypothetical. Families lose photo libraries because nobody could get into a cloud account. Small online businesses go dark because a domain lapsed. Crypto becomes permanently unreachable — industry estimates suggest a meaningful share of all Bitcoin is already lost forever, much of it to exactly this failure. And grieving relatives spend months on the phone with support departments that are legally required to tell them no.

Digital estate planning is the fix, and it is far less morbid and far more doable than it sounds. This guide walks through what it is, then gives you the full checklist — six steps you can genuinely finish in a weekend.

The basics

What is digital estate planning, exactly?

Digital estate planning is the process of deciding what should happen to your online accounts and digital assets when you die or become incapacitated — and, crucially, making it possible for someone to carry those decisions out.

That second half is the part people miss. A wish without access is just a wish. Your executor can hold a court order and still spend months locked out, because most platforms' terms of service prohibit anyone else from logging in with your credentials, and privacy law often prevents companies from simply handing over your data to relatives.

So a real digital estate plan has three layers:

Miss any one layer and the other two stall. The checklist below builds all three.

Step one

Inventory every account — yes, even the loyalty points

Start with a plain list. Not passwords yet — just what exists and where. The goal is that your executor never has to guess whether there's a second brokerage account or wonder which cloud service holds the baby photos.

Work through categories rather than trying to remember accounts cold. A useful pass looks like this:

🏦 Banks & brokerages 📧 Email accounts ☁️ Cloud photos & files 🌐 Domains & websites 🪙 Crypto wallets & exchanges 🔁 Subscriptions ✈️ Loyalty & miles 💬 Social profiles 📱 Devices & PINs

Two categories deserve special care. Email first: your primary inbox is the master key to everything else, because it's where every other account sends its password resets. If your executor can reach your email, half the estate unlocks itself; if they can't, almost nothing does. Crypto second: self-custodied wallets have no support line and no recovery process. If the seed phrase dies with you, the asset is gone — not frozen, gone.

Don't skip the small stuff. Airline miles and hotel points are often transferable to family if someone claims them (policies vary, so note the program). Domains and hosting quietly expire and can be bought by strangers. And subscriptions keep billing a dead person's card for years — listing them is a gift to whoever has to cancel them.

Step two

Set up legacy contacts where platforms support them

The big platforms have quietly built official tools for this, and almost nobody turns them on. They cost nothing and take minutes:

These tools matter because they work with the platform's rules instead of against them. A legacy contact doesn't need your password and isn't violating any terms of service — the platform hands over data through a sanctioned door. Check the equivalent settings on any other service you care about; more platforms add them every year.

Step three

Document access for your executor — never in the will itself

Here's the trap well-meaning people fall into: they type their passwords into the will. Don't. When a will goes through probate, it typically becomes part of the public court record — readable by anyone who cares to look. A will with your banking password in it is a published invitation.

There's a second problem: wills are static. You'll change your email password a dozen times between now and whenever the will is read. A password written in a legal document is stale within months.

The right structure splits the job in two. The will (or trust) carries the authority: language authorizing your executor to access and manage your digital assets, and a pointer that a secure inventory exists. A separate, secure, updatable store carries the access: a password manager's emergency access feature, an encrypted vault, or at minimum a sealed letter in a safe-deposit box — anything that can be kept current without lawyers involved.

The honest test of whether this layer works is simple, and most households fail it today: could your spouse actually get into your accounts right now, with you unavailable? If the answer is "sort of, if they guessed the phone PIN," step three is where your weekend goes.

Two details people forget: device passcodes (a phone or laptop PIN gates everything on the device, including the authenticator app) and two-factor codes (if your executor has the password but the 2FA codes go to a locked phone, they're still stuck — document backup codes too).

The legal bit

RUFADAA, fiduciaries, and one hour with an attorney

A light word on the law, because it's genuinely on your side here. Most US states have adopted a version of the Revised Uniform Fiduciary Access to Digital Assets Act (RUFADAA). In plain terms: if you've authorized it — through a platform's own legacy tool, or in your will, trust, or power of attorney — your fiduciary (executor, trustee, or agent) can lawfully access your digital assets. If you haven't, platforms can and often will refuse, and your family may need a court order for even basic information.

The practical takeaway is that a sentence or two of digital-assets language in your estate documents dramatically changes what your executor is allowed to do. The exact wording, and how it interacts with your state's version of the law, is squarely a job for an estate attorney — if you're updating a will anyway, ask them to include digital asset authorization. It's a small addition to the bill and a large subtraction from your family's future headaches.

This guide is general information, not legal advice — state laws differ, and an estate attorney can tailor the documents to yours.

The checklist

The full digital estate planning checklist

Everything above, condensed into the six boxes to tick. Print it, or better, work through it with your partner on a Sunday afternoon:

The practical layer

Make it a living map, not a document in a drawer

Here's where most digital estate plans quietly die: they get done once, as a document, and then drift out of date. The spreadsheet from 2023 doesn't have the new bank. The sealed envelope has last year's passwords. Steps five and six — keep it current, keep it findable — are the ones a static document is worst at.

The fix is to treat the plan as part of your household's ordinary life admin rather than a one-time legal event. This is exactly the thinking behind a family emergency binder — one always-current place where the accounts, policies, documents, and "who to call" details live, shared with the people who'd need them, so the estate plan is simply a view of records you already keep.

That's also how we approach it at Squirreld. The categories you'd inventory for an estate plan — finance links, memberships and subscriptions, vehicles, warranties, gift cards — are the same ones Squirreld already tracks day to day, and everything can be shared with family so the map is never trapped on one person's phone. The sensitive layer belongs in the encrypted vault: Wi-Fi and device codes, safe combinations, and account access notes stored encrypted, masked by default, and shareable with exactly the people you choose. And that yearly review from step five? Set an email reminder with a lead time and let the system nudge you, the same way it nudges you before a warranty or membership lapses.

However you build it — binder, password manager, Squirreld, or all three — the standard is the same: current, encrypted, and findable by one trusted person. That's the whole game.

FAQ

Common questions

Build the map while it's easy. Inventory your accounts, lock the codes in the vault, and share it with the one person who'd need it.

Start your family's account map