‘Justice’ in the age of social media

How many times have we opened our social media accounts and seen posts about potholes, rude service staff, unsafe public spaces or alleged misconduct caught on camera? The pattern is familiar: a clip goes viral, comments pile up, outrage intensifies and, in some cases, the authorities respond. It feels like justice is in motion.

But is it?

In early March this year, a video circulated widely showing a police patrol car stopping at a mamak eatery to collect takeaway food. The clip drew both support and criticism, eventually prompting an investigation. Last November, a coffee shop altercation sparked online outrage, with customers demanding that the brand respond. In some cases, the consequences extend beyond criticism: individuals have been doxxed, harassed or forced to withdraw from public or professional spaces because others disagree with their views. These episodes seem minor. Yet they reveal something deeper about how we increasingly “see” and “seek” justice in a digital environment.

Videos appear to tell the whole story. They frame events, assign blame and invite judgment. But what exactly are we witnessing? A breach of rules? A moment taken out of context? Or a fragment of reality amplified beyond proportion?

This dynamic is not unique to Malaysia. In Thailand, during periods of political unrest, social media groups publicly exposed individuals based on perceived affiliations. During the Covid-19 pandemic, online vigilantism targeted those accused of violating quarantine rules. In China and South Korea, internet users similarly identified and shamed individuals for behaviour deemed unacceptable. In each case, the impulse is the same: to restore order, enforce norms and witness punishment.

Scholars describe this as digital vigilantism or the use of digital platforms to mete out informal justice. It is driven not only by moral outrage but also by platform design. Research by media scholars, such as Zeynep Tufekci and Whitney Phillips, shows that social media ecosystems reward emotionally charged content. Anger travels faster than nuance. Algorithms prioritise engagement and engagement thrives on conflict. The system is not neutral. It amplifies outrage and compresses complexity.

This raises an uncomfortable question: who is the arbiter of justice online?

When a post goes viral, many assume that authorities such as the police or the Malaysian Communications and Multimedia Commission are watching and will step in. This is why their accounts are often tagged. Sometimes they do respond. But the expectation that justice can be crowdsourced, accelerated and resolved in real time is fundamentally at odds with how justice systems function.

Formal grievance mechanisms exist for a reason. They are imperfect, often slow and occasionally frustrating. Filing a police report, lodging a complaint with a local council or pursuing a consumer claim requires time and documentation. In sensitive cases, such as domestic violence or sexual harassment, the barriers can feel even more daunting.

Yet these processes are structured to ensure fairness. They weigh evidence, protect rights and avoid the arbitrary punishment that can arise from public outrage. They do not guarantee a favourable outcome but they are grounded in due process and accountability.

By contrast, social media offers immediacy without safeguards. It lowers the threshold for participation but strips away context. A single post can mobilise thousands but it can also mislead and harm. Individuals may be named, shamed or doxxed before facts are established. Reputations can be damaged irreversibly, even if allegations are later proven unfounded.

There is also a psychological dimension. For many, turning to social media feels more accessible than navigating formal systems. It offers visibility, validation and the possibility of support. For those burdened by rising costs of living, precarious work and limited resources, the appeal is understandable. Posting online can feel like reclaiming agency.

But that sense of agency can be illusory.

What begins as a search for justice can become a spectacle of punishment. The crowd’s response is unpredictable: empathy may turn into hostility, and support into backlash. More importantly, outcomes are rarely fair or proportionate. Instead, this reinforces a cycle of outrage, where attention shifts rapidly from one incident to the next.

Internationally, there is growing recognition that platform design drives this cycle. Features, such as trending topics, share functions and algorithmic feeds, combined with advertising models encourage rapid dissemination and emotional escalation. These systems are optimised for virality, not veracity. Outrage is not just user behaviour, it is shaped by platform incentives.

If that is the case, responsibility cannot rest solely on users.

Platforms benefit from traffic generated by viral “justice” moments yet bear limited accountability for the consequences. This asymmetry is increasingly difficult to ignore. Governments and regulators worldwide are beginning to respond, exploring content moderation, algorithmic transparency and stronger user protections.

In Malaysia, this conversation is still evolving. What is clear is that a more responsible digital environment requires action on multiple fronts.

First, institutions must strengthen and modernise grievance mechanisms. If formal processes are perceived as inaccessible or ineffective, people will continue to bypass them. Simplifying procedures, improving response times and providing better support for vulnerable groups are essential. Justice must not only be done but be seen to be done through credible and transparent systems.

Second, public communication must improve. Authorities and organisations should engage more proactively with citizens, explaining processes and addressing concerns before they escalate online. Outreach on social media should be complemented by more direct engagement, especially with those least likely to access formal mechanisms. Silence creates a vacuum that social media quickly fills.

Third, digital literacy must be treated as a core civic skill. Users need to understand not just how to use platforms but how they shape behaviour. Recognising the limits of viral content, questioning incomplete narratives and resisting online pile-ons are essential for responsible participation.

Finally, platforms must be part of the solution. This includes rethinking design choices that prioritise engagement over accuracy and safety. While commercial incentives remain, there is scope for greater accountability in how content is amplified and moderated.

None of this suggests that social media has no role in holding power to account. It has exposed wrongdoing, mobilised communities and amplified marginalised voices. Viral videos have led to arrests and institutional action in cases of violence and bullying. The challenge is not to silence these functions but to ensure they operate within a framework that respects fairness, due process, and ideally, human rights standards.

The alternative is a drift towards a form of justice that is fast, visible and deeply flawed.

At the end of the day, the question is not whether social media can deliver justice but whether we are willing to accept the kind of justice it offers. If outrage becomes the primary mechanism for accountability, we risk eroding the very institutions meant to protect us.

Justice, after all, is not a performance. It is a process.

Disclaimer:  The views and opinions expressed in this op-ed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Centre for Responsible Technology (CERT), the Institute of Strategic & International Studies (ISIS) Malaysia or the Malaysian Communications and Multimedia Commission (MCMC).