
The advent of mobile journalism was considered as one of the most remarkable achievements of modern communication. A smartphone in the hands of a journalist symbolised speed, accessibility and inclusiveness, enabling reporters to gather news from remote corners where conventional media had long struggled to reach. It was expected that cell phone would strengthen journalism by making information more accessible to citizens and public institutions more accountable than ever before. Ironically, the very technological advancement that promised to democratise the flow of information has, in many instances, become a convenient instrument for violating the dignity, privacy and personal security of ordinary people.
The concern today is no longer confined to the irresponsible conduct of a handful of self-styled mobile journalists. Rather, an entirely new ecosystem of digital content creation has emerged where individuals, widely recognised on social media as "trappers," deliberately exploit smartphones, hidden cameras and online platforms to transform private human moments into profitable digital commodities. Their objective is seldom the pursuit of truth or the protection of public interest. Instead, they intentionally provoke, follow, secretly record or psychologically manipulate individuals into vulnerable situations before presenting carefully edited fragments as sensational online content designed to maximise public curiosity, social humiliation and commercial gain.
This unfortunate development demonstrates how rapidly the philosophy of journalism can be distorted when commercial incentives become more powerful than professional ethics. Journalism derives its legitimacy from serving the public interest, whereas the trapper culture derives its popularity from satisfying public curiosity. The distinction between these two principles seems to be getting blurred day by day. Carefully selected camera angles, provocative captions and deliberately misleading contexts encourage audiences to focus not upon facts but upon appearances, personal relationships, physical expressions or isolated moments detached from their surrounding circumstances. Consequently, an individual ceases to exist as a human being possessing emotions, rights and personal identity, but is instead reduced to another source of clicks, shares, advertising revenue and algorithmic popularity. Human vulnerability itself becomes a commercial product.
Question may naturally arise whether modern society is unknowingly institutionalising a culture of permanent digital surveillance. Does the extraordinary accessibility of smartphones imply that every citizen automatically surrenders the right to privacy the moment he or she enters a public space? Should every ordinary conversation, personal meeting or private moment remain vulnerable to anonymous recording merely because technology has made such intrusion possible? More importantly, does technological capability automatically create moral legitimacy?
Democratic societies have never regarded personal privacy as a privilege reserved for a fortunate few. Rather, privacy constitutes one of the essential pillars of individual liberty, personal autonomy and human dignity. Freedom of expression undoubtedly remains indispensable for every democratic society, yet such freedom cannot reasonably be interpreted as an unrestricted licence to invade private lives where no identifiable public interest exists. Public interest and public curiosity are fundamentally different concepts, although digital platforms frequently encourage society to confuse one with the other.
Equally alarming is the fact that the victims of this growing culture are not merely confined to ordinary citizens. Numerous respected professionals, academics, physicians, journalists, artists and other socially established individuals increasingly find themselves exposed to secret recording, digital harassment and, in some instances, blackmail.
Reports have repeatedly surfaced alleging that compromising videos are intentionally collected before being used to intimidate victims or extract financial or professional advantages. Such practices cannot merely be dismissed as unethical content creation; they represent a sophisticated form of digital harassment capable of inflicting severe psychological, professional and social damage. Does professional recognition deprive anyone of the right to maintain a private life? Human beings possess personal relationships, emotional struggles and moments of solitude irrespective of their public identity. Unless an individual is involved in criminal conduct or an issue directly affecting the public interest, neither curiosity nor commercial motivation can justify transforming private experiences into spectacles for mass consumption.
Another equally significant dimension of this debate concerns the gradual transformation of our collective social mindset. The digital marketplace merely supplies what public demand continuously rewards. If audiences enthusiastically consume videos exposing private relationships, embarrassing encounters or emotionally vulnerable situations, content creators will inevitably continue producing them. The trapper culture therefore does not flourish solely because technology permits it; it flourishes because society increasingly rewards voyeurism while neglecting intellectual curiosity.
Societies progressing towards scientific innovation, technological advancement and institutional maturity generally devote their public attention to issues capable of improving collective welfare. Their discussions revolve around scientific discoveries, economic reforms, environmental challenges, medical innovation, artificial intelligence, education and global security because they recognise that the future of a nation depends upon the quality of its intellectual engagement.
Regrettably, our own public discourse often moves in the opposite direction. Instead of encouraging debate on education, research, governance, public health or technological innovation, considerable social energy is frequently consumed by speculation surrounding another person’s private life, friendships, relationships or personal choices. It is precisely this unhealthy curiosity that sustains the business model of digital trappers, honey trappers and other online content predators. They create little of their own; rather, they successfully monetise society's willingness to intrude into the lives of others. In doing so, they gradually transform the erosion of privacy into a profitable industry while simultaneously lowering the intellectual and ethical standards of public discourse.
The writer is a journalist