There are moments when being first simply does not matter.
A fatal crash. A shooting. A house fire. A drowning. An officer killed in the line of duty. Police cars racing down the highway. An ambulance leaving the scene without its lights and siren.
Within minutes, somebody knows something.
And within minutes, somebody wants to put it on Facebook.
Stop.
There may be a husband who hasn't received the knock on the door yet. There may be a mother who hasn't gotten the telephone call. There may be children who don't know their father isn't coming home. There may be a son thousands of miles away who has absolutely no idea that his life has just changed forever.
Social media should never be the death-notification system.
That lesson was driven home again following the line-of-duty death of Kentucky State Police Trooper Hayden Phillips. His wife, Jordan Phillips, wrote publicly that she learned her husband had died because someone saw it on Facebook and called her — before she had been officially notified.
Her words should stop every one of us:
"Imagine being told your husband passed away from FACEBOOK."
That should never happen.
I have seen it happen personally, too. Several years ago, one of my cousins was killed in a traffic accident in Morehead. His son was in Alaska. Before authorities could reach him and properly tell him that his father was dead, he learned about it through social media.
Think about that before hitting "Post."
There Is a Human Being on the Other Side of That Headline
When you hear that someone has been killed, you may know the name.
Maybe you recognize the vehicle.
Maybe you're listening to a scanner.
Maybe somebody at the scene texted you.
Maybe you saw the victim and you are absolutely certain who it was.
Knowing does not mean you need to post it.
There is an enormous difference between posting:
"There has been a serious crash on US 60. Emergency crews are on scene. Avoid the area."
and:
"John Doe was just killed in that wreck."
The first can provide useful public-safety information.
The second can destroy someone's world with a Facebook notification.
Unless authorities have publicly released the victim's identity — or the family has clearly authorized its release — keep the name off social media.
The same goes for photographs of bodies, recognizable vehicles, license plates, homes, personal belongings or anything else that could identify a victim before official notification.
And don't try to get around it with hints:
"Prayers for the Smith family."
"I can't believe we lost one of our own."
"Everybody who knows the man who drives the red Ford knows who it is."
"I'm not going to say his name, but..."
You may think you haven't identified someone. To their family and friends, you just did.
Kentucky law actually demonstrates how seriously death notification is supposed to be handled.
Under KRS 72.480, known as part of Nathan's Law, Kentucky coroners have specific responsibilities surrounding death notification. When applicable, notification is to be made orally, in person and respectfully, with another appropriate person assisting. The law even requires planning for the possibility that the person receiving the news could suffer a medical emergency and calls for assistance and follow-up after notification. Legislative Research Commission
Consider the contrast.
Kentucky has established a process designed to ensure that someone receiving perhaps the worst news of his or her life has another human being standing there.
Facebook can reduce that same moment to:
"OMG, is this your dad???"
There is a reason police, coroners and other officials generally try to notify next of kin before publicly releasing a victim's identity.
Give them time to do their job.
But Is Posting a Victim's Name Before Notification Actually Illegal?
This is where we need to be precise.
It would be incorrect to tell readers that Kentucky has a blanket law making it a crime for an ordinary citizen simply to post the truthful identity of every deceased person before next of kin has been notified.
There is no general Kentucky statute I found that creates an automatic criminal penalty merely because someone posted a deceased victim's name too soon.
That does not mean anything goes.
The legal consequences depend heavily upon what was posted, how the information was obtained, who posted it, why it was posted, and what harm resulted.
For example, Kentucky has a criminal statute covering certain dissemination of personally identifying information. KRS 525.085 applies when identifying information is intentionally disseminated with the intent to intimidate, abuse, threaten, harass or frighten someone and the other statutory requirements are met. A violation begins as a Class A misdemeanor, with substantially greater felony penalties when the prohibited conduct results in physical injury, serious physical injury or death. Merely posting a victim's name before family notification, however, does not by itself satisfy those elements. Justia Law
Kentucky also recognizes civil invasion-of-privacy claims. But those claims have important limitations, particularly when information is truthful or legitimately newsworthy. The Kentucky Supreme Court has long recognized privacy torts while also recognizing protections for publication concerning matters of public or general interest. Justia Law
Depending on the circumstances, other legal issues could arise from false accusations, harassment, threats, disclosure of protected information, interference with an investigation, unlawfully obtained records, or conduct causing legally recognizable harm. But there is no responsible way to say, "Post a death before notification and you automatically face X years in jail or a $X fine." The law simply isn't that broad.
The ethical rule can—and should—be stronger than the minimum demanded by criminal law.
You Don't Need a Law to Tell You This Is Wrong
Something doesn't have to result in handcuffs to be cruel.
Imagine your husband left for work that morning.
Imagine your father called you yesterday.
Imagine your daughter was supposed to be home at 8.
Then your phone buzzes.
You open Facebook.
And there it is.
A photograph of the wreck.
His truck.
Her name.
A comment saying "RIP."
That's how you discover someone you love is dead.
You cannot undo that moment.
Deleting the post afterward doesn't give the family back the opportunity to receive that news privately and compassionately.
Being the first person on Facebook to announce someone's death doesn't make you a journalist. It doesn't make you an insider. And it doesn't make you important.
Sometimes the most responsible thing you can report is simply:
"Emergency crews are on the scene. We will provide additional information when authorities release it."
Before posting information from an emergency scene, ask yourself:
Has the victim's identity been officially released?
Has the family publicly identified the person themselves?
Could my photograph identify the victim even if I don't use a name?
Am I sharing information that actually helps the public, or am I simply trying to be first?
If this were my spouse, parent or child, would I want to learn about their death this way?
If you don't know whether the family has been notified, don't post the name.
If authorities haven't released it, don't post the name.
If all you have is scanner traffic, rumors, screenshots or "somebody who knows somebody," don't post the name.
There will be plenty of time to talk about what happened.
There will be plenty of time for news stories.
There will be plenty of time for memorials, photographs and condolences.
But a family only gets one moment when they learn that someone they love is never coming home.
Don't steal that moment from them for likes, shares, comments or the privilege of saying:
"I posted it first."
Some things are more important than being first. Human decency is one of them.