Several years ago, I reluctantly joined TikTok because of its growing influence in the news and information space. I say reluctantly because, at the time, I had yet to take the vertical video platform seriously and was annoyed that to keep up with industry trends, I would need to pay attention to yet another social media platform.
Today, I spend more time on TikTok than I care to admit, and I’m far from alone. According to a Pew Research Center study last year, roughly 20% of U.S. adults now regularly get their news from TikTok. That number jumps to nearly 40% for adults under 30. So what’s on my “For You” page, or FYP, as the kids say?
News, of course, from both traditional sources and independent content creators. Lots of recipes and home improvement videos. Dad jokes. And this guy named Wade, who fishes in questionable places and eats just about everything he catches.
I also went down the rabbit hole of so-called “crimetok” videos, many of them made by content creators who monitor radio scanners to record at crime scenes, or relentlessly file public records requests for body camera footage. As Han Solo would say, I have a bad feeling about this.
For news organizations, access to police radio traffic, body camera footage and other public records is essential to public safety reporting. The transparency also holds law enforcement officials accountable to the public they serve.
For most of my career, that access was standard operating procedure. The first newsroom I worked in had a crackling, radio-based police scanner on the city editor’s desk. Eventually, scanner technology migrated to the web, making it convenient for anyone with an internet connection to listen in.
Today, with social media driving a voracious appetite for crime content, law enforcement officials are looking for ways to regain control.
As reported by The Enquirer’s David Ferrara, police chiefs in Hamilton have been discussing a plan to encrypt radio dispatches, saying scanner apps such as Citizen and CrimeRadar are making it harder for them to do their jobs. Police in Akron scrambled their radio communications in 2022, shortly after the police shooting death of Jayland Walker and the protests that followed.
This latest effort to install guardrails on what once was a wide-open road of public access comes on the heels of a new law that allows police departments to charge up to $75 an hour – capped at $750 – to process requests for body camera footage. When I asked a former police spokesperson for his take, he said departments are being inundated with requests from content creators – some with followers in the hundreds of thousands – who profit from posting body camera footage.
“You guys aren’t the problem,” he said, referring to members of the news media.
Gov. Mike DeWine echoed that sentiment in a press release his office issued in January after signing the body camera measure into law as part of last year’s omnibus budget bill:
“No law enforcement agency should ever have to choose between diverting resources for officers on the street to move them to administrative tasks like lengthy video redaction reviews for which agencies receive no compensation − and this is especially so for when the requester of the video is a private company seeking to make money off of these videos.”
Society’s fascination with true crime content is nothing new. Cops, the sometimes-controversial reality show that debuted in 1989, is one of Fox’s longest-running programs, second only to The Simpsons. What’s different now is that anyone with a smartphone and the know-how to file public records requests can become a reality TV producer.
News organizations, including mine, are pushing back. Adding barriers that slow down access to public information isn’t something we stand for. But we also understand that most police departments aren’t equipped to fulfill endless video requests, and police officers shouldn’t have to deal with amateur content creators showing up at active crime scenes.
So what’s the solution?
It starts with identifying the problem − and that problem did not suddenly materialize from established news outlets. I encourage legislators and law enforcement officials to keep that in mind when creating policies to address the challenges of the TikTok era.
As is often the case, a little common sense goes a long way.
Executive Editor Beryl Love writes a biweekly column that takes you behind the scenes at The Enquirer. Occasionally, he shares his thoughts on local issues, particularly as they pertain to a free press and open government. Email him at blove@enquirer.com. He can’t respond personally to every email, but he reads them all.
This article originally appeared on Cincinnati Enquirer: In the age of information, police are building barriers | From the Editor
Reporting by Beryl Love, Cincinnati Enquirer / Cincinnati Enquirer
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
By Beryl Love, Cincinnati Enquirer | USA TODAY Network
