Editorial: Knowing when to draw a line

When it comes to social media, there’s sharing and oversharing. And then there’s a line, which, once crossed, takes us beyond the personal into the reckless.

Most of us have done it. We took a snap of a beautifully plated meal, shared a proud milestone, posted a funny clip or a selfie to capture a fleeting moment. These digital impulses reflect something deeply human: the urge to savour and share our lives.

But joy is one thing. Tragedy is another. Increasingly, that boundary is blurring, and, in some cases, vanishing altogether. What used to be labelled as “oversharing” has metastasised into something far more disturbing: the casual distribution of someone else’s suffering.

Sharing graphic images of accidents, injuries or death on social media is not citizen journalism but voyeurism. It is not public service but public spectacle: gory, irresponsible and unethical.

Real journalism is rooted in truth, scrutiny and difficult ethical judgement. Journalists don’t always get it right. But most work within a framework: weighing the public’s right to know against the individual’s right to dignity. They ask hard questions and make hard calls. Often, there is a very fine line. Certain images are published when there is need to make a strong social or political statement, for example.

Sometimes, publishing the truth requires confronting uncomfortable realities. A life lost due to negligence or systemic failure or poor infrastructure demands accountability. In such cases, responsible reporting has sparked real change, like the establishment of a dedicated road policing unit to investigate major accidents.

But when bystanders rush to upload unfiltered images of tragedy, bypassing any ethical filter, they are not seeking justice or driving change. They are chasing attention and feeding the so-called algorithm.

A recent fatal traffic accident made this painfully clear when graphic images were circulated widely on WhatsApp. This was not a one-off. Months earlier, the same thing happened – another fatal crash, another stream of footage tastelessly shared across social media.

Sharing graphic images of accidents, injuries or death on social media is not citizen journalism but voyeurism

This is not a technology problem. It’s a human one. It speaks to our urgent need for digital education and a renewed sense of ethical responsibility.

Anton Grech, clinical chairman of Mental Health Services, has warned of the psychological shift behind this trend: the desire to be seen, provoke and shock. Empathy, he says, is evaporating. 

Brenda Murphy, a media and gender expert, has called it a “deeply problematic phenomenon”. Just because we can capture and share something doesn’t mean we should.

The normalisation of trauma-sharing is not just tasteless but damaging. It violates dignity and retraumatises families. And it chips away at our collective ability to discern what belongs in the public eye and what should remain private.

This isn’t just irresponsible. It’s cruel. And, yet, the most common excuse persists: “It’s already out there. What harm does resharing do?”

But harm multiplies, and every repost deepens the wound. Every image forwarded desensitises us further.

Sadly, it is not just our devices we’re losing control of. We’re also losing our respect for one another in a world where public spectacle and the desire to be first precedes everything. It is a slippery slope that is becoming especially common among certain social media platforms.

Social media has given us immense power and opened up a whole new world. But power without a semblance of conscience is dangerous.

The answer is in better storytelling, contextualising and knowing when to remain silent instead of speaking.

It is about more mindful choices, and, sometimes, it’s knowing when not to share.