Police officers conducting their search of the River Wyre for Nicola Bulley after she went missing in Lancashire. Her body has now been found. Photo: Reuters/Phil Noble/File Photo
Nicola Bulley, whose body was found around a mile from where she disappeared. Photo: Family Handout/PA Wire
Flowers and a message tied to a bridge over the River Wyre in St Michael's on Wyre, Lancashire, after police announced that the body recovered from the River Wyre on Sunday, was that of Nicola Bulley, who disappeared on January 27. Photo: Dave Nelson/PA Wire
Assistant Chief Constable Peter Lawson (right) of Lancashire Police with Detective Chief Superintendent Pauline Stables (left) speaking at a press conference outside Lancashire Police Headquarters in Hutton near Preston after police recovered the body of Nicola Bulley on Sunday. Photo: Owen Humphreys/PA Wire
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Police officers conducting their search of the River Wyre for Nicola Bulley after she went missing in Lancashire. Her body has now been found. Photo: Reuters/Phil Noble/File Photo
On the face of it, it’s hard to know why the case of Nicola Bulley, a 45-year-old Lancashire woman who disappeared from a local riverbank after dropping her children to primary school, snagged so forcefully on the imaginations of so many.
As the timeline of her disappearance unfolded, the mystery began to deepen. Ms Bulley took a work call at 9.01am, mobile phone data placed her at a riverside bench at 9.30am, and her phone and dog were found 13 minutes later, while she appeared to have vanished. The case became a huge focus for the British media. And with it, the public’s interest took on a life of its own.
Local investigators attempted to establish the mortgage advisor’s whereabouts. Officers and divers scoured the area, while a private diving search expert was drafted in on February 6, which was 10 days after the mum-of-two disappeared.
Her agonised family, including Ms Bulley’s partner Paul Ansell, have voiced their frustration at these efforts, begging officials to widen the search and “leave no stone unturned”.
Later, police decided on what we might euphemistically call a “curious” move. They released highly personal information on Ms Bulley in a statement that alluded to “struggles with alcohol” and the menopause, which spawned a whole new raft of heated think-pieces and commentary. The public focus soon shifted to her private life – a moment of huge indignity for all involved.
Flowers and a message tied to a bridge over the River Wyre in St Michael's on Wyre, Lancashire, after police announced that the body recovered from the River Wyre on Sunday, was that of Nicola Bulley, who disappeared on January 27. Photo: Dave Nelson/PA Wire
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Flowers and a message tied to a bridge over the River Wyre in St Michael's on Wyre, Lancashire, after police announced that the body recovered from the River Wyre on Sunday, was that of Nicola Bulley, who disappeared on January 27. Photo: Dave Nelson/PA Wire
In spite of, or perhaps because of, the official investigation, a parallel "search” was soon underway. Online amateur sleuths decided to investigate Ms Bulley’s disappearance themselves, despite many of them having never been anywhere never the small Lancashire village where she lived, and having had no expertise in criminal investigations.
Other more ardent case followers descended on St Michael’s on Wyre themselves, prompting the police to issue dispersal orders in a bid to keep outsiders away.
It didn’t take long for the conspiracy theories, the rumours and the speculation to gather pace online and completely spiral. On TikTok, the #NicolaBulley hashtag has gained over 275 million views. One online commenter surmised that friends of Ms Bulley’s who were posting online appeals were hired “crisis actors”.
Another theory credits her disappearance as the work of the UK government. As it was revealed that her body had been found less than a mile from the spot where she vanished, online commenters voiced their theories again, some of which involved levelling accusations at Mr Ansell.
Social media users began commenting on the family’s “sudden silence”, as though they had a God-given entitlement to anything else.
Assistant Chief Constable Peter Lawson (right) of Lancashire Police with Detective Chief Superintendent Pauline Stables (left) speaking at a press conference outside Lancashire Police Headquarters in Hutton near Preston after police recovered the body of Nicola Bulley on Sunday. Photo: Owen Humphreys/PA Wire
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Assistant Chief Constable Peter Lawson (right) of Lancashire Police with Detective Chief Superintendent Pauline Stables (left) speaking at a press conference outside Lancashire Police Headquarters in Hutton near Preston after police recovered the body of Nicola Bulley on Sunday. Photo: Owen Humphreys/PA Wire
Things reached a disturbing nadir when trolls hacked into Mr Ansell’s social media accounts to post sexually explicit images of women. This is a man, incidentally, who has gone through unfathomable personal turmoil in the last few weeks alongside his two young children. And, no doubt, will go through even more in the months and years to come.
It was at this point, as trolls decided to callously target and dehumanise the partner of a missing woman, that I realised the fallout of Nicola Bulley’s disappearance has brought out the absolute worst of online culture.
And that’s before I even mention journalists Amanda Platell and Petronella Wyatt criticise what the latter called the “cocktail dress” attire of Rebecca Smith, detective superintendent on the case.
Now, I realise that many of these TikTok sleuths may be coming from a good place. They want to see an element of resolution and justice served. And amateur/home sleuths have also been successful in advancing other investigations and providing vital breakthroughs.
Deanna Johnson and John Green used shrewd analysis and the power of the Internet to find Luka Magnotta, who shared homemade ‘snuff films’ - initially of animals, then a person – online.
As the podcast Serial was aired, internet sleuths argued their theories online and on social media, and the building chatter would help Adnan Syed, wrongfully convicted of killing his ex-girlfriend, win a new trial and become cleared of charges.
But we also need to have a conversation about the “Netflixification” of serious crimes, especially as they are happening in real time. There has been a blurring between actual tragedy happening to real people and home entertainment, where by rights the chasm should be very wide indeed.
And when it comes to harassing the partner of a disappeared person online and speculating with neither rhyme nor reason, what exactly is the end point? To be the hero? To win the “game”? To watch a televised special at a later date and to be able to point at the TV and say, “I was right all along”?
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Following instances of true crime is nothing new, and not exclusive to the case of Nicola Bulley. And I’m all for the might of people power when it comes to bringing tragedies like this to light and steering them to their rightful conclusion. When a case is covered as extensively as this one has, it stands to reason that everyone is nursing their own theory.
But there’s a difference between citizen sleuthing and someone popping along with a smartphone to a crime scene where investigators are still working. The official police investigation into Ms Bulley’s disappearance, and the finding of her body a mile from where she was found, has been anything but straightforward. Imperfect, even.
But TikTokers chasing likes, speculating wildly, and playing to the online feeding frenzy have turned Ms Bulley’s disappearance into the worst kind of soap opera.
Dignity, for either the victim and her anguished loved ones, seems to be the last thing on far too many people’s minds.