Thanks to social media, enforcement agencies have turned raids, inspections into entertainment — but, is this right?

Malay Mail

2 days ago

Malaysian enforcement agencies are gaining millions of views on social media by turning raids and roadblocks into viral videos that mix public outreach with entertainment.
While the clips attract followers and highlight official duties, experts warn they risk ethical issues, including privacy breaches and undermining judicial fairness.
Critics argue the trend may reinforce harmful policing narratives, distort public perception through social media algorithms, and discourage vulnerable groups from seeking help.
KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 1 — Malaysia's enforcement agencies are racking up millions of views on social media such as TikTok and Instagram, transforming serious operations like raids and roadblocks into viral content.
This strategy has helped them garner massive amounts of followers. The Domestic Trade Ministry's (KPDN) Melaka division account, for one, has nearly a million followers on TikTok. Another, the Pahang contingent of the Road and Transport Department (JPJ), has over 600,000 followers and 10 million likes there.
'I find these videos entertaining. Sometimes I would just scroll one video after another. It's like reality TV, just more serious,' admitted a follower of Melaka KPDN's account, who preferred not to be named.
Many of these videos share near-identical formats. Often, officers are recorded approaching those who they think have violated laws.
The KPDN account, for example, would have videos of enforcement officers inspecting business premises, and then telling them they have committed offences under certain Acts. Meanwhile for JPJ, officers would be shown conducting roadblocks and vehicle inspections.
However, the videos that get the most engagements, be it likes or comments, usually involve officers lecturing offenders after explaining what their offences are.
While many agree these videos have entertainment value, several followers that Malay Mail interviewed could not quite explain why they are drawn to them.
@kpdnmelaka
Bila buat salah, anak pelanggan pulak dijadikan punca. Min nak pesan, jangan ambil kesempatan dengan tanda harga. Besar kesannya pada pengguna. original sound - KPDN Melaka - KPDN Melaka
A follower of Melaka KPDN's account suggested the clips, particularly, gave her a sense of satisfaction to see undocumented migrants apprehended.
'Immigrants by right cannot do business here, but I still see them manning stalls and shops everywhere. So when KPDN officers raid their premises I think I see justice being done,' said user Farah from Jasin.
A follower of Pahang JPJ's TikTok account, who only wanted to be known as Rip, said he has mixed feelings about these videos. On one end, he feels sympathy for people on the receiving end of enforcement. But on the other hand, he said he finds comfort in knowing the authorities are doing their job at a time when deadly road accidents are rising.
'When they record roadblocks, it's kind of humiliating for those who are being accused of traffic violations. They might have reasons for whatever they did, but their side of the story isn't captured on the video,' he said.
Why do enforcers feel like they need to show their jobs?
Amira Firdaus, who heads the Department of Media and Communication Studies at Universiti Malaya, in trying to explain the trend, described it as 'performative visibility'.
She said enforcement officers are feeling pressured to prove they're on the job, in an age where public criticism of them is amplified by social media.
But this need to be seen also raises ethical conundrums: at what point does public outreach cross the line into privacy breaches, ethical dilemmas, and a compromise of professional conduct, the lecturer said.
'It helps them to show that they are 'taking action'. This 'performative visibility' helps them to show the public [and their bosses or ministries] that they're 'performing their duties' so to speak,' she told Malay Mail.
'But where I think it gets complicated is the human cost. Usually, the ops involve individuals who [despite their seeming illegal activity] might actually be quite vulnerable. For example, victims of scams or trafficking, even someone innocent who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.'
The videos can also be damaging for policy reforms that are meant to save lives, said Jia Vern Tham, researcher at Hayat, a civil society organisation working with death row inmate families. She cited the viral videos of raids by the National Anti-Drug Agency (AADK).
'The TikTok videos portraying late-night raids and forced urine testing reinforce the same punitive image of drug enforcement that AADK claims to have moved away from,' Tham said.
'Evidence from Portugal as early as the 80s shows that aggressive policing does not reduce drug use. Making TikTok videos out of arrest operations discourages people from seeking help, especially among marginalised communities already fearful of stigma and surveillance.'
Screengrab of a raid by religious enforcers who broke into a house under the guise of preventing vice. — Screegrabs from TikTok
Are these clips even legal?
Some lawyers have voiced concerns about the trend's effect on the judicial procedures, highlighting the ambiguous protocol in dealing with what is essentially evidence.
While recording the act of enforcement may reinforce transparency and accountability, especially when there are already plans to install body cameras on enforcement officers, posting the recorded clips on social media could temper with the justice process.
'It tempers with the principle of innocent until proven guilty,' said Farez Jinnah, a lawyer and Bar Council committee member.
'The videos could suggest that those being inspected or questioned are already guilty. We understand that enforcement agencies may use the clips as evidence, and they have the right to, but posting them on social media deviates from the purpose of evidence collection,' he added.
'But right now, the law is unclear about whether or not the act of posting this evidence on social media is illegal. This is something that needs to be addressed.'
In addition, well-meaning content can easily morph into something harmful as social media platforms like TikTok as powered by algorithms usually designed to amplify drama, warned Mediha Mahmood, the chief executive of watchdog Communications and Multimedia Content Forum.
'When content is posted online, it often takes on a life of its own. Even well-meaning, factual recordings can be clipped, edited, or reshared in ways that strip away context and sensationalise the moment.
'Like it or not, social media platforms often favour what's dramatic or emotionally charged, and such content usually gets more engagement and views than the original,' Mediha told Malay Mail.
She gave the example of an enforcement agency who posted a clip that is factual and responsible, but ended up going viral after dramatic edits by other users.
'Often things go viral not for what they represent, but for how they're perceived, and that perception is often shaped by algorithms, commentary, and the entertainment value the internet assigns to conflict,' she suggested.
When asked how to explain the videos' popularity, Mediha said she believes the trend appeals to a kind of voyeurs.
'Raids, inspections, et cetera are normally done without publicity, so these enforcement footages give us a 'behind-the-scenes' kind of satisfaction,' said Mediha,
'Also, people like drama. The whole 'justice is served' plot where someone is caught doing something wrong appeals to some people's sense of voyeurism.'