How digital platforms and algorithms fuel mob violence

On a sweltering September afternoon in Faridpur, a 45-year-old rickshaw puller named Abdul Malek was doused in kerosene and set ablaze by a mob of 30 men. His crime? A 16-year-old boy had streamed a Facebook Live video accusing him of stealing a mobile phone charger. 

The video, shaky and pixelated, showed Malek picking up a charger from the roadside. “I only wanted to return it,” he gasped before losing consciousness. By the time the video was taken down 12 hours later, it had garnered 1.2 million views, 45,000 shares, and a flood of comments: 

“Burn the thief!” “This is people’s justice!”  

Malek’s story is horrifying, but not unique. According to Ain o Salish Kendra (ASK), at least 179 people were killed in mob attacks between August 2024 last year and June 23 this year. 

This isn’t mere lawlessness; it’s a systemic collapse where distrust in institutions collides with platforms that monetize outrage. As British sociologist William Davies warns in Nervous States: How Feeling Took Over the World: “We now live in an era where gut feelings travel faster than evidence.” 

In Bangladesh, that truth is written in blood.  

Bangladesh’s mob violence epidemic is rooted in what William Davies calls “bodily politics” -- a shift from reason to visceral instinct. Consider the numbers: 79% of Bangladeshis distrust police and courts to deliver justice (Transparency International, 2025), while 91% of mob participants admit acting out of “anger” or “fear” (BRAC Institute). When institutions fail, people default to primal reactions. A rickshaw puller becomes a thief because the mob feels he is one.

This dynamic played out brutally in Comilla last March. A deepfake audio clip, generated by AI, falsely depicted a Hindu priest “insulting Islam.” Shared across 200+ Telegram groups with captions like “protect our faith!,” it sparked riots within hours. Fact-checkers debunked the clip, but as Davies notes:“Speed kills reason.” By the time the truth surfaced, shops and temples were smouldering.

Social psychologist Albert Bandura’s theory of “moral disengagement” explains how ordinary people justify violence by dehumanizing victims. Label someone a “thief” or “blasphemer,” and brutality feels righteous. 

In Dhaka’s Karwan Bazar, a mob beat a street vendor accused of pickpocketing. “He deserved it -- police never do anything,” one participant told ASK researchers. The vendor survived, but his stall -- and dignity -- were ashes.  

Algorithms: The unseen arsonists  

While mobs wield the kerosene, digital platforms supply the matches. TikTok’s “For You” page, for instance, prioritizes clips tagged #JusticeServed, which receives three times more engagement than neutral content (Luminate, 2025). The algorithm rewards outrage -- grainy footage of beatings or fiery speeches -- because rage keeps users glued to screens.  

In January 2025, a video of a mob assaulting a teen accused of motorcycle theft in Mirpur gained 2 million views in 6 hours. Comments praised the violence: “Finally, real justice!” Few noticed the follow-up post where police confirmed the teen had borrowed the bike from his uncle. By then, the algorithm had moved on.

Facebook’s role is equally pernicious. A leaked 2024 internal report revealed that posts accusing individuals of “theft” or “blasphemy” are shared five times more than factual content. 

The platform’s design -- emotive reactions, infinite scroll -- fuels what technologist Zeynep Tufekci terms “affective publics” where communities are bound by shared rage rather than shared truth.

Even encrypted apps like Telegram act as rumour accelerants. During February’s Rohingya organ-harvesting hoax, a Photoshopped image of “medical tools” found in a refugee’s home was forwarded 500+ times. Jamal Hussain, the accused, fled his camp after neighbours torched his shelter. “They didn’t check -- they just felt it was true,” said a UNHCR field officer.  

state paralyzed by distrust

The government’s failure to curb mob violence is both cause and effect of public despair. A 2025 Unicef survey found 68% of Bangladeshis trust local mastaan (strongmen) over police. Courts, bogged down by an average case backlog of 5.2 years, offer little respite. In Shatkhira, a mob lynched a farmer accused of cow theft; police arrived three hours later, citing “traffic delays.”

Officers often avoid confronting mobs due to “emotional exhaustion” and fear of backlash. A Dhaka Metropolitan Police whistleblower admitted: “We’re outnumbered and outgunned by public sentiment.” Davies frames this paralysis starkly: “The state is as nervous as its citizens.” 

Solutions  

Healing Bangladesh’s “nervous state” demands systemic empathy and tech accountability. In Cox’s Bazar, BRAC’s pilot Community Calming Centres -- modelled on Brazil’s Restorative Circles -- reportedly reduced mob incidents by 37% in six months. These hubs host dialogues between conflict-prone groups, replacing suspicion with shared stories.

Tech reforms are equally critical. A “slow button” mandate -- a 10-minute delay before sharing violent content -- could act as a circuit breaker for impulsivity. Combined with “fact champion” training for teachers and imams, as seen in Finland’s anti-misinformation curriculum, it could rebuild trust in expertise.

Legal measures matter too. The EU’s Digital Services Act, which forces platforms to disclose algorithmic priorities, offers a blueprint. Imagine if Facebook had to explain why #JusticeServed trends faster than #FactCheck.

Beyond the nervous state

Rabindranath Tagore once envisioned a Bengal “where the mind is without fear.” Today, that dream feels distant -- but not unattainable. Curbing mob justice requires privileging reason over rage, and rebuilding institutions that earn trust rather than stoke fear.

The alternative is grim: A nation where truth is decided by the loudest mob, and a phone charger costs a life.  

Zakir Kibria is a Writer| Entrepreneur | Chronicler of Entropy | Cognitive Dissident. Chasing next caffeine fix, immersive auditory haze, free falls. Collector of glances. “Some desires defy gravity.” Email: zk@krishikaaj.com.