If you have been anywhere near social media over the past few months, you will have seen the explosion of new-age influencer “journalists” covering high-profile US legal cases. It started with the Johnny Depp v. Amber Heard trial in 2022, then picked up pace during the Tory Lanez trial in 2022/23 for the 2020 shooting of Megan Thee Stallion.

The Sean “Diddy” Combs case in the U.S. is a recent example of how platforms like TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram have fuelled a new wave of influencer “court reporting”.

Some creators are arguably very good, entertaining, and are filling a gap in the market. They discuss the case with energy and genuinely integrate the facts and evidence. Others are less so, with their reporting often being sloppy, hyperbolic and highly speculative. Some have even crossed into what they believe is activism and protest (or are just seeking attention) – YouTuber Oota Ongo sprayed baby oil over the crowd outside of the courtroom during the Combs trial (a not-so subtle reference to the Combs oil drenched “parties”). Exacerbating  the problem, unlike journalists at mainstream publications, these creators are not trained in court reporting, nor do they have an in-house editorial and legal team to guide them.

Regardless of our personal views, when working with American clients, these creators cannot be ignored – they influence the public discourse and command huge followings among a generation that has an increasing distrust of “traditional media”.

English creators may be watching this phenomenon unfold and thinking “I could do that”. But legally, they simply cannot (at least not in the same manner as their US counterparts). England and Wales operate under an entirely different legal framework – one that seeks to protect the right to a fair trial over freedom of expression. The reality is that the type of TikTok journalism going viral in the States is incompatible with English law and could land an English creator in court themselves.

In America, with First Amendment protections and a media landscape that leans heavily on freedom of speech, American creators can speak with relative impunity. They can post theories, react to leaks, dissect character claims, and build entire series speculating on someone’s guilt or innocence. As long as they are not violating a direct gag order or actively tampering with a trial, they are usually protected under the constitution.

However, in England and Wales, under the Contempt of Court Act 1981, the rules kick in as soon as a case becomes “active,” usually from the moment someone is arrested or charged (in criminal proceedings), or once a date is set for trial (in civil proceedings). At that point, anything published – and that includes TikToks, Instagram Reels, threads, or YouTube videos – must not risk seriously prejudicing a fair trial. This is not just aimed at traditional media. It applies to everyone.

Staying on the right side of the line

What counts as prejudicial for the purpose of the Act? More than many realise. You cannot speculate on guilt or innocence. You cannot refer to a suspect’s past convictions unless they have been introduced in court. You cannot suggest a narrative that the court has not heard. Even reporting on leaks, hearsay, or comments made outside the courtroom can breach the law. In short: if your content could influence a juror or witness, intentionally or not, it could be considered a criminal offence.
The risks of prejudice may be lower in civil proceedings without a jury, where the civil trial judge should be less susceptible to outside influences.  However, the risks of, for example, prejudicing the recollection of a witness and/or deterring a witness from providing evidence, remain in civil proceedings.

That does not mean nothing can be published once a case is active. In general terms, basic non-prejudicial information can be published, for example, the fact that an alleged wrong took place, where and when it occurred, and, in criminal cases, that there has been an arrest. Matters that are common ground and not in dispute are unlikely to be prejudicial. Once in court, there are defences (in both contempt and defamation law) for the fair, accurate, contemporaneous, and good faith reporting of public hearings. But anything incorrect or unfair, or that goes beyond those undisputed matters, risks being prejudicial – particularly if it implies guilt. Essentially, the investigations, character dissections, and theories that American creators attract followers for are not open to English creators.

From a PR perspective, the risks are not just legal, they are reputational. What might feel like a breakthrough moment for a creator could just as easily become a cautionary tale. If you are a creator building a platform based on commentary, analysis, or journalism-adjacent content, dabbling in live trial coverage without understanding English law is dangerous.

So what should UK-based creators do instead? It is not about avoiding legal stories altogether – it is about knowing the line and staying on the right side of it. If you want to build credibility in this space, the focus has to shift from being first or loudest to being accurate, legal and responsible.

• Reporting must be fair, accurate and contemporaneous. Stick strictly to what is been said in open court. If it has not come from the judge, a barrister, or a witness under oath, do not touch it. Speculation, personal theories, even loaded phrasing – all of that runs the risk of prejudicing a live case. Adding the word “allegedly” does not protect you if the rest of the sentence implies guilt.
• Be aware of reporting restrictions. Courts can and do ban certain names, details or evidence from being published – and those restrictions often fly under the radar. While some apply during trial, others can take effect before a case even reaches court. If you are serious about legal commentary, it is your job to check, not guess. Getting it wrong does not just make you look careless; it puts you and any brands you are aligned with at risk.
• Timing is everything. If you want to analyse or deep-dive, wait until the case is finally determined and restrictions are lifted. That is when you can offer real value – not while the judge or jury is still deciding (or there is a pending appeal). Being smart, informed and legally sound builds trust amongst audiences. Going viral for the wrong reasons doesn’t.

Ultimately, TikTok journalism is here for the foreseeable future. The platforms are evolving, the audiences are engaged, and the lines between creator and reporter are already blurred. But the legal framework in England and Wales has not changed – if creators are serious about building a voice in this space, understanding the boundaries and legal obligations is an absolute must.