Dilated pupils, vacant stares and shaky handheld footage: on TikTok an increasing number of young people are openly recording themselves using drugs. Many clips cluster under a single hashtag — #Pingtok — and some reach millions of views, turning private, risky behaviour into public content.
Influencer Sarah, who became dependent on drugs at 15 and now speaks about addiction on TikTok at 26, says the messages she receives worry her. “What really scares me is that many of them are minors,” she says. Followers who first encountered drugs via TikTok are often even younger, and some write to her describing disturbing experiences and trauma. For them, social platforms can be both an initiation point and a place to seek help.
A short search for #Pingtok shows how fast this content can surface. The more a person scrolls, the more the algorithm serves similar clips, normalizing and amplifying the trend. TikTok maintains that it prioritizes user safety, bans depictions and promotion of drugs and removes violating material — claiming more than 99% of such content is removed before it is reported. Yet the persistence of #Pingtok reveals how moderation is repeatedly sidestepped.
Users adopt codes, emojis, specific sounds and new spellings to avoid detection. Many videos don’t show drugs directly but highlight physical signs of use such as wide pupils or jaw clenching. “Ping” is slang for taking MDMA, which explains the label Pingtok. Blocked hashtags quickly mutate (#Pingtokk, #Pintok) and novel “algospeak” emerges, complicating automated filters and human review.
Comment threads increasingly serve as informal marketplaces. Requests like “Who’s selling?” or “Need something in Berlin” appear alongside replies that use emojis or private signals to arrange transactions, often migrating conversations to encrypted apps or Telegram groups. The process can be alarmingly simple: from a single video to a contact who will deliver substances to a bedroom.
The major shift is not that teens experiment — that’s long been common — but that use has become more visible and often more solitary. Data underline the stakes: Germany’s Federal Criminal Police Office reports drug-related deaths nearly doubled over the past decade, with fatalities among people under 30 rising by 14% in 2024. U.S. research finds more than two-thirds of fatal overdoses happen at home, frequently when no one else is present to intervene. While causation between trends like #Pingtok and overdose rates is unproven, experts warn that isolation plus exposure to drug content online can increase danger.
Regulators and governments are reacting. Australia has restricted social media for under-16s; the UK, Denmark, France and Spain have debated similar measures. The EU is reviewing platform age rules and has said TikTok’s design may breach online content rules and the Digital Services Act because of its addictive features.
But not all drug-related content is glorifying. Research by Layla Bouzoubaa and colleagues found that more than half of TikTok videos about substance use focus on harm reduction, recovery or education. Advocates caution that blunt takedowns could cut off support networks and urge platforms to involve affected communities when shaping policies.
Sarah’s response is an example: she now uses her channel to warn others about addiction and withdrawal rather than glamorize use. Professionals, peer groups and policymakers must accept that prevention and outreach increasingly need to happen online as well as in schools and on the streets.
Editor’s note: If you or someone you know is experiencing severe emotional distress or thoughts of self-harm, seek professional help. Information on where to find support worldwide is available at https://www.befrienders.org/