George R. Kelder Jr., CFSP
If you’ve been paying attention to the legal landscape lately, you’ve noticed an uncomfortable trend: Courts are taking a long, hard look at funeral statutes and finding cracks. Big ones.
The most recent example comes out of California, where federal courts rejected the state Cemetery and Funeral Bureau’s argument that a death doula’s speech and limited hands-on assistance required a funeral director’s license. Translation: Once again, judges decided that certain end-of-life services that we have long assumed were “ours” don’t automatically fall under licensure simply because we say they should.
This isn’t a one-off. It’s the second time federal courts have ruled in favor of death doulas performing tasks historically perceived as exclusive to licensed funeral directors. And if history tells us anything, it won’t be the last.
Now, before anyone fires off an angry email about “unqualified outsiders” and “the erosion of the profession,” let’s pause. Because this moment might actually be less about losing ground and more about refusing to acknowledge what has already changed.
Death doulas are not showing up because they want to replace funeral directors. They’re showing up because families are asking for something different at the end of life. More presence. More guidance before the death occurs. More conversation about dying that doesn’t start at the arrangement table.
And here’s the uncomfortable truth: most funeral homes aren’t built to do that work right now. Not because we’re incapable but because our systems, staffing models and regulations were designed for after death, not before it.
(Foot note: The New Jersey State Funeral Directors Association developed a prototype for this type work a dozen or so years ago called “Matters of Life/Matters at Hand,” promoting three distinct services provided by funeral homes centered around organizing, housekeeping and finances for those at the end of their lives. It failed during our beta testing because funeral directors wanted to stick to their own knitting and stay within their own post-death space.)
This gap is where doulas currently live.
Instead of treating end-of-life doulas as invaders, it’s time to ask a harder question: Why are families seeking them out in the first place?
For decades, funeral service has fought to protect its scope of practice through licensure and rightly so. Licensing matters. Education matters. Public protection matters. But courts are increasingly drawing a line between commerce and conversation, between technical care and emotional support. When a doula is providing companionship, education, advocacy or even limited physical comfort, judges are saying, “That’s not embalming. That’s not disposition. That’s not funeral directing.”
We can argue with that reality, or we can adapt to it.
Imagine a future where funeral homes partner with or even employ end-of-life doulas instead of bracing for battle. Doulas supporting families before the death, helping them articulate wishes, normalize conversations and prepare emotionally, then transitioning those families to a funeral home that already understands their story.
That’s not erosion. That’s continuity.
It also opens doors. Pre-need that actually feels helpful instead of transactional. Aftercare that doesn’t feel bolted on. A deeper role for funeral service professionals as educators and guides, not just responders.
Of course, there are real concerns. Oversight matters. Standards matter. Families deserve clarity about who is certified, who is not and what that means. But pretending doulas will disappear if we glare hard enough is wishful thinking and the courts are making that clear.
Here’s the bigger risk: If we define ourselves solely by what others can’t do, we shrink. If we define ourselves by what we uniquely bring–technical expertise, legal accountability, ethical responsibility and deep knowledge of ritual–we grow.
End-of-life doulas aren’t dismantling funeral service. Courts aren’t conspiring against us. The profession is simply being challenged to evolve in a world that is finally talking openly about death.
So, maybe it’s time we joined the conversation before someone else (once again) finishes it without us.