Devious Licks: TikTok's Viral Theft and Consequences

What would make thousands of teens around the world steal a soap dispenser, film it, and post the evidence online for millions to see? In 2021, TikTok’s “Devious Licks” trend turned ordinary students into overnight internet antiheroes, but behind the viral chaos there was a hidden story about power, platform responsibility, and the real cost of chasing clout—plus some big, lingering questions about what happens to the data from all those phones in the first place.

Let’s get into why so many people love TikTok. The platform encourages creativity, humor, and self-expression, making it a magnet for young users looking for a community and a spotlight. Since its launch in September 2017, TikTok has drawn more than a billion active monthly users worldwide, reaching that milestone faster than Facebook, Instagram, or YouTube. By April 2020, TikTok had surpassed two billion mobile downloads globally. Its secret weapon is an algorithm that builds a custom “For You” page for each user, learning from every like, share, scroll, and pause. Wired magazine called it one of the most advanced systems for shaping user experience, tracking user behaviors during video viewing and using that information to refine recommendations. That means users see content that’s both addictive and hyper-personalized.

The result is a platform primed for viral trends. From dance challenges to recipe hacks, TikTok’s short video format and remix-friendly features—like duets and sound overlays—turn users into instant creators. In July 2020, TikTok reported close to 800 million monthly active users worldwide after less than four years in existence. Some creators, like Loren Gray and Charli D’Amelio, have reached tens of millions of followers—Charli became the first to ever reach 50, 60, and 70 million. TikTok’s influence runs so deep that songs, products, and even obscure memes can reach global audiences overnight.

But in the fall of 2021, a different kind of trend exploded. Instead of dance moves, TikTok’s “Devious Licks” challenge dared students to steal or vandalize school property—then post the evidence online. The earliest known video was uploaded on September 1, 2021, by a user named jugg4elias, who claimed to have stolen a box of disposable masks from school, captioning it, “A month into school... devious lick.” Within days, other students joined in, uploading videos of themselves removing soap dispensers, urinals, mirrors, and even ceiling tiles from bathrooms. Some even grabbed bigger prizes like exit signs, telephones, microscopes, and interactive whiteboards.

The trend spread fast, helped by TikTok’s algorithm, which pushed these videos to the top of countless “For You” pages. By September 15, 2021, the #devious hashtag had racked up more than 235 million views before TikTok intervened. The videos were often soundtracked by a sped-up version of Lil B’s “Ski Ski BasedGod,” making them instantly recognizable. Captions played with synonyms, calling them “diabolical,” “dastardly,” or “nefarious” licks. For teens, pulling off and recording a “lick” was a ticket to internet notoriety.

But the consequences came quickly. Schools in the United States, Canada, Australia, and Germany reported waves of theft and vandalism. In British Columbia, students ripped out 42 soap dispensers from bathrooms within a single week. In Huron County, Ontario, a school bathroom had all its urinals and toilets clogged with paper towels, and other supplies were thrown on the floor. Across the United States, police departments began to issue warnings, and arrests followed. In Polk County, Florida, three students from two high schools were arrested, while a 15-year-old was charged for damaging and stealing soap dispensers at Bartow High School. In Boone County, Kentucky, eight students were prosecuted—four for theft and four for vandalism. In Stafford County, Virginia, a student was charged after vandalizing a park bathroom near their school. In Mohave County, Arizona, a 15-year-old was arrested for stealing a school toilet paper dispenser.

Property damage prompted schools to shut down bathrooms, limit access, and install security cameras. Administrators warned students and parents about the legal and academic consequences. News outlets like CNN, People, and Fox News covered the story, fueling a nationwide debate about social media’s role in encouraging delinquency. Even comedian Trevor Noah weighed in, calling out the absurdity—and the risks—of teens recording and sharing their own crimes.

But not all was as it seemed. Some “devious licks” videos were staged. Brock Colyar, a journalist at Curbed, reported that three of the most-viewed videos appeared to be faked—one showed a student with a microscope, but it was actually a microscope the student already owned at home. Colyar called the backlash a “moral panic,” suggesting that media and political figures exaggerated the extent of the trend.

There was another twist: the trend soon spawned a counter-movement called “angelic yields.” Instead of stealing, students filmed themselves anonymously donating items to their schools, replacing stolen soap and toilet paper or leaving small gifts for others to find. These “yields” became their own meme, showing how internet culture can flip controversy into a new kind of participation.

Meanwhile, the devious licks saga revealed pressure points in TikTok’s system. TikTok removed the original video by September 13, 2021, and two days later, the company banned all related clips. Users searching for #deviouslick or similar hashtags saw an error message about TikTok community guidelines. The platform took a strong stance, but critics said it was too slow to act. Some pointed out that the algorithm’s ability to promote viral content so efficiently made it easy for harmful trends to explode before moderators could react.

TikTok’s response to this crisis unfolded against the backdrop of larger privacy and safety concerns. The platform’s algorithm doesn’t just recommend videos—it collects vast amounts of user data, including behavioral patterns, location, device IDs, and sometimes even biometric data. Reports from The New York Times and Wired described TikTok’s recommendation engine as more invasive than most, monitoring everything from how long a user lingers on a clip to what kind of content they skip. By design, this helps the app deliver addictive, relevant feeds—but it also raises questions about what happens to all that data.

In 2021, TikTok earned $4 billion in advertising revenue, making user data the backbone of its business model. Cloudflare ranked TikTok as the most visited website in the world that year, ahead of Google. TikTok’s parent company, ByteDance, is headquartered in Beijing, with reported links to Chinese state funds through a 1% golden share in a domestic subsidiary. This connection has fueled concerns—especially in the United States and Europe—about the potential for foreign data access or surveillance. Several countries, including India and Afghanistan, have banned TikTok outright or restricted its use on government-issued devices.

Within the United States, data storage and privacy concerns led to regulatory investigations and congressional hearings. From 2020 onward, TikTok and ByteDance faced pressure to separate U.S. user data from overseas systems. One initiative, Project Texas, aimed to house U.S. data on domestic servers managed by Oracle. In January 2026, TikTok’s U.S. operations were sold to a consortium including Oracle, Silver Lake, MGX, and Michael Dell’s investment entity, leaving ByteDance with a 19.9% minority stake. The deal stipulated that the app would remain largely unchanged, but the algorithm would be gradually adjusted to favor American topics for U.S. users.

Despite these efforts, privacy incidents continued. In one case, TikTok was accused of using journalist tracking to investigate leaks, which raised alarms about how the company handles sensitive information. Regulatory bodies across the world—including the U.S. Federal Trade Commission, the European Data Protection Commission, and the UK Information Commissioner’s Office—launched investigations into TikTok’s practices. In some cases, TikTok was fined for data privacy violations, especially regarding children’s data.

Meanwhile, criticism from competitors played a role in shaping the public debate. In March 2022, The Washington Post reported that Meta, which owns Facebook, funded a consulting firm called Targeted Victory to orchestrate lobbying and media campaigns against TikTok. The firm recruited local reporters, wrote letters to editors under the names of parents, and amplified stories like “devious licks” in an effort to frame TikTok as a danger to youth and society. Some of these viral challenges, such as “Slap a Teacher,” reportedly originated on Facebook before spreading to TikTok. Meta’s campaign documents did not disclose who paid for these efforts.

The devious licks trend didn’t stop at bathrooms and soap. In May 2025, the so-called “Chromebook Challenge” appeared. This time, students vandalized school-issued Chromebooks, inserting pencil leads or paper clips into USB ports to start fires. The challenge led to property damage and increased scrutiny of school security policies. Media coverage linked the phenomenon to a broader cycle of social media-fueled stunts and the difficulty of moderating trends before they spiral out of control.

The impact of devious licks stretched beyond headlines and broken soap dispensers. School districts faced repair costs for vandalized property, including replacing dozens of fixtures, mirrors, and light fixtures. Administrators had to explain to parents why restrooms were closed, and students who participated sometimes faced criminal records that could affect their futures. For law enforcement, the challenge highlighted the difficulty of responding to crimes coordinated—or at least amplified—by social media, where evidence is both everywhere and easily deleted.

TikTok’s role as trend incubator has made it a cultural force, but also a lightning rod for criticism. Some media commentators argued that the backlash to devious licks was out of proportion to the actual damage, calling it a classic case of moral panic. Others said that even staged videos can inspire real-world copycats, especially when amplified by the platform’s recommendation engine.

Inside the TikTok community itself, debate continues over whether the app is responsible for its users’ actions. Some users blame the algorithm for pushing risky trends to impressionable teens. Others argue that teens have always engaged in pranks and dares—TikTok just makes the antics more visible. TikTok’s parental controls, like Family Pairing and restricted mode, give parents some ability to manage exposure, but critics say these features don’t address the core issue: the power of viral content to shape behavior.

There’s ongoing disagreement about whether TikTok does enough to protect user privacy and safety. The company says it complies with local regulations and invests in content moderation, but critics point out that its moderation tools sometimes lag behind viral trends. Others raise concerns about the sheer quantity and sensitivity of data collected—from voiceprints and facial recognition information to location data and device metadata.

The conversation has also become a proxy for larger anxieties about foreign ownership of tech platforms, youth safety, and the speed at which online culture can turn from playful to destructive. In Europe, multiple investigations by data protection authorities are still pending as of 2026, and new regulatory frameworks are in development to address the unique challenges posed by algorithm-driven social platforms.

For students and parents, the story of devious licks is a cautionary tale about the risks of internet fame. For TikTok, it’s an ongoing test of how fast a company can adapt to the scale and unpredictability of its own creation. And for lawmakers and regulators, it’s a case study in the delicate balance between innovation and oversight.

The debate rages on: Is TikTok’s algorithm simply reflecting what users want, or is it amplifying dangerous trends for profit? Are privacy safeguards strong enough, or is the price of viral fame too high for young users who may not understand the consequences? And as new challenges and controversies emerge, will platforms like TikTok figure out how to stay ahead of the next devious lick? Or will the cycle of viral chaos and reactive policy just keep repeating?