From Courtroom to TikTok: How False Accusers Silence the Innocent and Their Families

Injustice does not end with a guilty verdict. For some men in Scotland, the punishment continues long after the court case is closed. Their wives, girlfriends, and families are drawn into the same machinery of accusation, not by law but by the mob logic of social media.

On platforms such as TikTok, women who have made allegations and secured convictions now find themselves with a new role: survivor influencers. By sharing their stories online, they attract sympathy, followers, and sometimes money. In the economy of clicks and views, pain becomes performance and survival becomes currency.

But for those who know a different truth, that their partner is innocent, that messages or records exist to prove consent, that the conviction was built on the exclusions of Section 274 or the arithmetic of Moorov, speaking up comes at a heavy cost.


From the courtroom to the feed

In court, restrictions under Sections 274 and 275 can prevent juries from seeing the very evidence that could demonstrate innocence. Texts, affectionate messages, or context showing consent are often ruled inadmissible. The accused is silenced at the moment when his voice matters most.

Online, the same silencing continues by other means. When a new wife or girlfriend publicly defends her partner, insisting that he is innocent and offering proof, she becomes the next target. The woman who once accused him rallies her followers, encouraging them to shame, harass, or threaten the defender.

The effect is chilling. Just as evidence was excluded in court, truth-telling is suppressed on social media. A network of strangers, convinced they are protecting a survivor, become instruments of intimidation.


Why the lie must be protected

Why would a false accuser go to such lengths to silence others? The answer lies in incentives.

On TikTok, survivor status is rewarded. Each disclosure brings comments of solidarity, each tearful livestream attracts virtual gifts, and each viral clip increases the potential for income. An accuser who has already gained public sympathy and even financial support has every reason to ensure that narrative is never undermined.

If the lie were exposed, the income and attention would evaporate. Worse, her credibility could collapse in both social and legal spheres. Protecting the story becomes essential, even if it means attacking those who know it is false.


When the crowd becomes the prosecutor

This dynamic creates a peculiar inversion of justice. In a courtroom, it is the state that prosecutes. On social media, it is the crowd. The accuser does not need to argue her case again; she simply needs to point to a dissenting voice, and the followers will do the rest.

The new partner of an accused man, often the person closest to the truth, finds herself outnumbered and vilified. She is branded delusional, a liar, an enabler of abuse. The more evidence she claims to have, the harsher the backlash. In this way, the mob ensures that inconvenient facts are buried under hostility.


A deeper moral failure

No serious observer denies that genuine victims exist, and no one denies their right to speak. But when false accusers turn social media into a weapon against those who defend the innocent, the system has crossed a moral line.

What we see is not the pursuit of truth but the protection of self-interest. The courtroom’s exclusions become the platform’s enforcers. The man is silenced by law, his partner is silenced by harassment, and the lie remains untouched.


The question Scotland must face

What kind of society allows an accuser to keep punishing not only the man she has falsely accused, but also anyone who dares to defend him? If conviction in court is followed by persecution online, if accusation is rewarded and defence is silenced, can we still claim to value truth at all?

Until we confront this new machinery, a fusion of courtroom rules and social media mobs, innocence will remain voiceless, and lies will continue to find both protection and profit.