Why talking to young people about serious issues like crime means learning to TikTok
If experts can’t communicate with young people on the social media platforms they use, there is a danger they will get taken in by misinformation, fearmongering and conspiracy theories
I invest a slice of my time speaking to many hundreds and probably thousands of young people in schools all over Scotland about justice. I remember myself as a surly teenager and reflect that I am nothing like these smart, self-assured, engaged and worldly young people. I become defensive when I often hear the demonisation of youth.
The first question I always ask them is where they get their news, about justice and everything else. TikTok is their reply. Whilst I cling to mainstream news, policy reports and carefully worded government communications, a whole generation is turning instead to social media for its understanding of the criminal justice system.
And it’s not a marginal shift; it’s now the primary place many young people go to make sense of crime, policing, prisons and punishment.
Myths shared, opinions cemented
When I speak to (other, older) people about this, I see the eye-rolling, the mutterings about “short attention spans”, algorithms or banning social media. But the truth is far more uncomfortable: young people are going where the information feels accessible, relatable, and crucially, unfiltered by authority.
Evidence is only useful if people can hear it, and for a generation raised on short-form video, this is where views are shaped, myths are shared, and opinions cemented.
The marketplace of information has moved on. Our institutions have not moved with it, and sadly neither have I. As I look critically at the work I do, the reality is that politicians, academics and justice experts talk overwhelmingly to each other.
We publish lengthy documents, appear on traditional media, or give speeches at conferences often attended by the same people. But this is not where this young generation is. When young people are asking questions online about sentencing, prisons, trauma, or youth justice, knowledgeable voices are largely absent from platforms where those questions are being posed.
Good guys vs bad guys
TikTok is messy, chaotic, and, for me, speaking to young people face-to-face is more effective. I watch young people on buses scrolling, occasionally pausing on something that grabs their interest, while the tech companies scrape their usage data.
There are lived experience voices and thoughtful commentary there, but also misinformation, fearmongering and conspiracy theories. Complex justice issues become about good guys and bad guys, and our understanding of justice is, and will become, increasingly distorted. We will end up with a generation which knows a great deal about true crime, but little about the hard graft of rehabilitation that never makes for a viral clip.
If we want people to understand what works in justice, we need to be present in the places where conversations are happening: to be engaging, without lecturing or jargon, all in 120 seconds.
This isn’t about dumbing anything down, it’s about translating the evidence into forms people can engage with, because if we don’t fill the space with credible, evidence-driven perspectives, it will be filled with voices that are louder, simpler and far less grounded.
If we care about the future of justice in this country, then being present on TikTok and other platforms isn’t optional; it’s a responsibility. Evidence only matters if it reaches people. And right now, they’re listening somewhere else. The revolution will not be televised... it’ll be on TikTok, and I am likely to miss it.
Karyn McCluskey is chief executive of Community Justice Scotland