When Black Pain Becomes Profit: The Algorithm That Turns Grief into Currency

There’s a reason the internet feels heavier lately. It’s not just the headlines — it’s the constant hum of human suffering turned into content.

Black trauma, grief, and scandal have quietly become a revenue model. Every tragedy, rumor, or fabricated story involving a Black public figure becomes digital gold — recycled through anonymous creators, amplified by algorithms, and monetized for clicks.

We don’t just witness pain anymore. We consume it. And worse, we’re encouraged to.

The Business of Defamation

In October 2025, Judge Faith Jenkins and Kenny Lattimore released their now-viral video, Exposing the People Behind the Anonymous YouTube Accounts That Defamed Us.

After months of subpoenas and digital forensics, they traced multiple “anonymous” channels back to real individuals and companies — some operating overseas, others hiding behind VPNs and AI-generated voices. These weren’t casual gossip pages. They were organized networks of defamation engineered for profit.

Each fake story earned ad dollars. Each AI-generated voiceover drew another round of engagement. Every hateful comment, every share, every denial — all of it fed the machine.

“These weren’t gossip channels. This was organized defamation — engineered for engagement and profit.”— Judge Faith Jenkins, October 17, 2025

Their findings were a masterclass in digital forensics — but also a mirror reflecting how normalized the monetization of pain has become.

The Algorithm Doesn’t Care Who It Hurts

Social media algorithms don’t have empathy; they have metrics. They don’t know truth from falsehood — they only know what keeps us scrolling.

Platforms like YouTube, X, and TikTok reward engagement above all else. The stronger the emotional reaction, the wider the reach. That’s why anger, outrage, and grief outperform balance, nuance, and truth — every single time.

According to research from MIT Media Lab, emotionally charged misinformation spreads up to six times faster than verified news. And NBC News reported in 2024 that dozens of AI-driven YouTube accounts were pushing fake “death reports” about Black entertainers, using AI narration and doctored thumbnails to farm ad revenue from sorrow.

The algorithm doesn’t need to lie. It just requires you to feel something strong enough to stay.

From Exploitation to Extraction

This is not new — only digital.

Historically, Black pain has been profitable. Newspapers once printed lynching photos for circulation. Talk shows built empires on public humiliation. The pattern has evolved, not disappeared.

Now, with AI and deepfakes, exploitation requires no photographer or reporter. Just code.

And the irony is devastating: the same technology that promised democratized storytelling has given rise to industrialized defamation.

What Faith Jenkins and Kenny Lattimore exposed wasn’t just harassment — it was a business model. The anonymous defamation industry relies on three things:

1. Speed — AI-generated content that can fill a channel overnight.

2. Emotion — outrage that triggers comments and shares.

3. Anonymity — protection from accountability while collecting ad checks.

It’s exploitation without fingerprints.

How We Re-Traumatize Ourselves

Here’s the most brutal truth: even as victims of this system, we sometimes sustain it.

Every time we share a false headline to “correct it,” quote-tweet an insult, or debate a rumor in the comments — we extend its lifespan. The algorithm doesn’t care that we’re defending truth. It only registers interaction.

In trying to protect our image, we amplify our pain . That’s how we keep re-traumatizing ourselves through the very platforms we rely on to connect.

Digital safety now means emotional safety. Digital wellness means curating what enters your nervous system — not just your notifications.

You can stay informed without being consumed. You can witness without absorbing every wound.

Bias in the Machine

Algorithms are trained on data sets steeped in bias. They don’t just amplify content — they amplify inequity.

A 2023 study from Stanford’s Internet Observatory found that automated moderation systems flagged African American Vernacular English as “offensive” 1.5 times more often than standard English. Yet fake AI-generated videos mocking Black grief or spreading false news usually go unchecked — or worse, monetized.

The result? A digital ecosystem that punishes authenticity and rewards exploitation.

It’s modern extraction — not of physical labor, but of emotional energy. The plantation has moved to the platform.

Faith Jenkins’ Framework for Accountability

Jenkins’ legal campaign wasn’t just personal vindication. It became a roadmap for reform. Her demands to YouTube — identity verification for monetization, AI labeling, regional disclosure, penalties for repeat offenders — should be the foundation for all social platforms moving forward.

Because right now, anyone can profit from a lie.And the bigger the lie, the higher the payout.

If platforms won’t build guardrails, regulation will have to. But the first layer of defense starts with awareness — and discipline.

From Digital Outrage to Digital Discipline

Outrage is easy. Awareness is profitable. But wellness takes work.

We need a cultural shift that values emotional sustainability as much as digital literacy. That means pausing before we post. Questioning what we engage with. Asking who benefits from our outrage.

It also means demanding transparency from platforms — algorithms shouldn’t be black boxes when they’re shaping our collective psychology.

We can’t heal in an environment that keeps replaying our pain.

The Way Forward

This is bigger than one case or one platform. It’s a societal reckoning with how technology manipulates empathy for money.

If we can industrialize trauma, we can industrialize truth. If we can automate outrage, we can automate awareness.

That starts with accountability — from platforms, from lawmakers, from ourselves.

Because the next fight for freedom isn’t just economic or political, it’s digital.

And liberation will depend on what — and who — we choose to amplify.

Black grief should never be a marketing strategy. Black truth should never need an algorithm to be believed.

If attention is the new currency, then discernment is the new resistance.

We owe ourselves that much.