Ever notice how we’ve all become amateur detectives? I mean, I was born ready for this moment—I’ve been mentally solving crimes since I was eight and discovered my mom’s true crime paperbacks hidden under the couch (sorry Mom, but your hiding spots were as obvious as blood under luminol).
Social media has transformed us all into keyboard Columbos. One minute you’re scrolling through cat videos, the next you’re three hours deep into a Reddit thread about the Idaho student murders, convinced you’ve spotted something the FBI missed. We’ve entered the golden age of armchair sleuthing, and honestly? It’s both fascinating and terrifying.
When Your FYP Becomes a Crime Scene
TikTok isn’t just for dance trends anymore. During the investigation of the horrific University of Idaho student murders, my For You Page transformed into a 24/7 crime board. Videos analyzing window positions, discussing knife angles, and mapping potential escape routes racked up millions of views faster than you can say “reasonable doubt.”
Amateur sleuths dissected every detail of the case where four students—Kaylee Goncalves, Madison Mogen, Xana Kernodle, and Ethan Chapin—were brutally stabbed in their off-campus home. The gruesome quadruple homicide became social media’s obsession, with theories spreading faster than police could process evidence.
I’ll admit it—I got sucked in too. (Ryan walked in on me at 2 AM once, surrounded by notes and muttering about shoe prints. He just sighed and went back to bed. Marriage!)
The Digital Detective Agency
What makes this online crime-solving community so powerful is the sheer diversity of expertise. You’ve got:
- Former law enforcement dropping knowledge bombs
- True crime podcasters with encyclopedic case knowledge
- Forensic science students applying classroom theories
- Regular people with weirdly specific knowledge (like the carpet installer who spotted crucial details about floor fibers)
When Bryan Kohberger was arrested, social media exploded. People who’d been following the detailed timeline for weeks suddenly had a suspect to analyze. Within hours, users had unearthed his criminology studies, old forum posts, and even high school yearbook photos.
The collective intelligence was working with the efficiency of a digital hive mind—as impressive as it was slightly disturbing.
When Internet Sleuths Actually Solve Crimes
This isn’t just theoretical. Internet sleuths have legitimately helped solve cases:
The “Grateful Doe” case sat cold for two decades until Reddit users identified a young man killed in a 1995 car crash.
Facebook groups helped identify the “Boy Under the Billboard” in North Carolina after traditional methods failed.
TikTok users helped locate missing persons by amplifying cases that traditional media had abandoned.
Modern data analysis techniques combined with crowdsourced information have created investigation possibilities that would’ve seemed like science fiction even fifteen years ago.
The Dark Side of Digital Detecting
But let’s not pretend this is all positive (as much as I’d love to believe my late-night scrolling makes me the next Clarice Starling). For every legitimate lead, there are dozens of harmful rumors.
During the Idaho investigation, innocent people were accused based on nothing more than living nearby or looking “suspicious” in completely unrelated photos. One Moscow business owner received death threats after being falsely linked to the crimes.
I’ve watched in real-time as misinformation spread like a bloodstain on white carpet—impossible to fully remove once it sets in.
The Ethics of Your True Crime Obsession
Look, I get it. I’m the first to admit I’ve spent way too many hours deep-diving into cases (my browser history would make a therapist raise both eyebrows). But we need to have an uncomfortable conversation about the ethics here.
Are we helping or just consuming tragedy as entertainment?
When does “investigating” become harassment?
How would you feel if your darkest day became someone else’s TikTok theory?
I still believe in the power of collective intelligence to crack cases. The right tip from the right person at the right time can break something wide open. But maybe—and I’m talking to myself here too—we need to approach this with more responsibility than we approach our true crime podcast binges.
The line between helpful citizen detective and harmful conspiracy theorist is thinner than most of us want to admit.
So before you hit “post” on that theory, ask yourself: Would I want someone doing this if the victim was someone I loved?
(Now excuse me while I go triple-check my door locks and continue my deep dive into the Long Island Serial Killer case. Old habits die hard—unlike many of the victims I read about.)