In defense of 'West Elm Caleb': Ghosting isn't criminal, but doxxing is
TikTok’s newest villain of the week is a young, New York City man dubbed “West Elm Caleb.” His crime? Ghosting the women he was seeing after a couple of dates.
What started out as one woman sharing her experience with the now infamous Caleb on TikTok quickly became an avalanche of other New York City women sharing their own grievances with him.
Soon, “6'4, mustache, furniture designer” — Caleb’s alleged description on his dating profile — became a viral phrase plastered all over social media. #westelmcaleb was put on trial by public opinion, and his sentencing was truly … something.
It’s one thing to share stories on the internet for a bit of public support and empathy, but it’s another thing entirely to paint a bright red target on someone’s back just because he ghosted you after one date.
Did "West Elm Caleb" deserve to be doxxed and harassed online and even ridiculed on the streets for sharing the same Spotify playlists with multiple women and then not texting back? Is he truly an evil person?
The answer: No.
“West Elm Caleb” is only the latest person to become the target of a TikTok witch-hunt. “Couch Guy,” who was vilified for his dull reaction to his long-distance girlfriend surprising him at school, and Sabrina Prater, a transgender woman whose unique dancing sparked rumors of her being a serial killer, both went through the same thing.
TikTok has a habit of turning regular people into hashtags and memes, harassing them and then discarding them once the fun is over. People like “West Elm Caleb,” “Couch Guy” and Sabrina Prater aren’t given the courtesy of context or asked for their consent. They're just plunged into sudden infamy.
They aren’t millionaire celebrities who have the power to salvage their careers, nor are they raging bigots who deserve to be deplatformed and sent to prison. So why the mob mentality? And why the fascination with seeing regular people fall to the point where corporations are cashing in to market off the spectacle?
It’s possible that the intense response people have to stories about strangers on the internet could be a way to vent about universal experiences, living vicariously through one figurehead victim. In the case of “West Elm Caleb,” it’s being ghosted by an inconsiderate guy, whereas for “Couch Guy,” it’s feeling unimportant in the eyes of someone you love.
Even with all this considered, the people behind the hashtag fall victim to a mob with pitchforks and bloodlust due to choices they made in their personal lives that aren’t even problematic — just rude.
For a culture that's insistent on caring about mental health, it’s interesting to see how easily people can turn someone into a villain the second they make a mistake with little context.
It wasn't all a witch-hunt. Some spectators on Twitter shared their own opinions on the “West Elm Caleb” situation, with one Twitter user saying “soooo sorry to well off nyc women but getting ghosted is not a feminist issue.”
Another said, “caught up on west elm caleb. i wish people knew how to hold multiple truths at once. yes, what he’s doing is a f***** up part of casual dating; no, people don’t have to accept it and can respond how they like, but no, we don’t need all his private information exposed.”
That’s the crux of it: The women affected by “West Elm Caleb” are allowed to be annoyed at or upset with his behavior. But the subsequent backlash of doxxing, bullying, harassment and overall pitchforking is a sign of how the line between venting about rude behavior and holding people accountable is far too blurred when the two things shouldn't be conflated.
It's understandable that people jump on bandwagons in order to be a part of something, but if that sense of community is only fueled by malice, especially toward someone who becomes the topic of a discussion they didn’t consent to be a part of, then maybe it’s time to take a step back.
After all, there is a human behind the hashtag, and the lasting repercussions of internet infamy are sure to haunt them forever.
