Is it Time for a #MeToo Movement in Online True Crime Storytelling?

Recently, on behalf of FACES, I had the opportunity to attend the eleventh annual international conference “Puzzles 2024: Solving the Campus Sexual & Dating Violence Puzzle.”  While the conference highlighted courageous work and efforts regarding interpersonal violence (IPV) on campus, it also included sessions focused on overlapping issues we at FACES sometimes see in examining the abuse and exploitation of crime victims and their loved ones in social media, such as norms of silence, victim-blaming and minimization. Yet throughout these presentations and discussion of societal harms, one theme kept surfacing--one that extends far beyond campus violence and into the very way we engage with crime victims and their stories online: Consent.

At the conference, consent was a central topic, particularly in conversations about sexual relationships and IPV. But what struck me most upon reflection was how deeply consent is woven into every part of our lives. It governs everything—from medical decisions to business deals, employment, and even everyday transactions like buying and selling-consent is the backbone. In modern society, we claim to understand the lifelong harm caused when consent is violated. We’ve created laws to protect autonomy, built movements like #MeToo, and fought to bring justice to those whose consent was ignored. While legally, there is no requirement to obtain consent of victims and their families to profit from their worst days and tragedies in storytelling, it often seems that perhaps there should be, as harms continue to grow in some social media true crime content. If nothing else, as more online harm continues, legislators need to start paying attention to the revictimization that is occurring to victims, families and their loved ones and begin to develop mechanisms to help protect victims from further harm.

Every day in true crime social media, crime victims and their families are subjected, by some storytellers, to sensationalized speculation, invasive storytelling, and outright misinformation—all without their consent. Many of the creators engaging in this activity claim to be "advocates" who are "ALL about the victims"- but if you watch long enough you recognize the only advocacy is for themself and their bank accounts as they urge super chats, Venmo and PayPal donations that don't benefit victims at all. Often, it appears that the audiences turn a blind eye to the sad reality that no victim or their family benefits; in my personal opinion, in most cases its unreasonable to even argue that the storyteller is raising awareness for a missing person or a case, because the storyteller is not actually presenting facts. For many storytellers, their years-long social media record is conspicuously devoid of any proof that their content actually solved an open case, brought a missing person home, effectuated justice, or made any positive impact to the victim or their family at all.

I've personally observed this scenario on many occasions, and it makes me note the irony of it all. We live in a world that celebrates and praises survivors for their resilience in overcoming horrific and tragic victimization; we stop and pay respect to people who come forward to share their most personal, painful stories of overcoming abuse; we stand in solidarity with victims who are working towards overcoming their pain and grief. Yet online, some of the very same people are revictimizing victims and their families, escalating their pain and grief, and sensationalizing their trauma for clicks and views. 

Some creators, with no training or understanding of the implications, perhaps informed by watching dramatized fictional cop shows, interview crime suspects in a way that is biased and entirely not objective for information-gathering purposes. Others interview families of missing children showing little to no regard for the emotional toll or ethical responsibility involved. Multiple creators pose questions in a confrontational manner with only their "feelings" about a person involved in a case. Afterwards, having baited the person with baseless accusations, these creators will often go on to create a whole library of videos to analyze what they "feel" is suspicious about the interview.

Even more disturbing is the behavior of some true crime social media audiences—for example, people who revel in dissecting the physical appearances or leaked confidential medical histories of parents of missing children, who seek to expose or encourage the sharing of confidential CPS reports involving minors, who fuel damaging rumors with NO factual support with no thought of the real people behind these tragedies and how devastating this is to the families already suffering.

We live in a world where we fight to protect children, survivors, and the dignity of crime victims. Yet, on social media, escalating their pain has become entertainment for some. Is it time for a #MeToo movement in true crime social media?

It’s time we demand ethical storytelling. It’s time we ask creators: Did you get consent for your storytelling? Did you prioritize accuracy, dignity, and respect? If not, we should be asking ourselves why we’re still watching.