Lock Company Sues Viral YouTuber Who Cracked Their Product With a Simple Can
In a world where we watch people open boxes, eat spicy wings, and live-stream every moment of their lives, it takes something truly unusual to stand out. Yet, one man did just that, not by unboxing or gaming, but by breaking into locks. With nearly four million subscribers watching him do it, Trevor McNally turned a niche hobby into a career. Then, in an unexpected twist, that career turned into a courtroom drama.
McNally’s viral video, where he popped open a supposedly unbreakable $130 lock using nothing more than the metal from a Liquid Death can, became a modern parable about ego, innovation, and unintended consequences. What started as a lighthearted test of engineering quickly became a public debate about intellectual property, pride, and the blurred boundaries between education and exposure in the digital age. His story encapsulates the dual nature of the internet: it rewards curiosity, but it also magnifies conflict.
The rise of creators like McNally represents a new kind of entertainment, one where experimentation and expertise collide. These creators thrive not on drama, but on demonstration, proving that the thirst for genuine skill and curiosity is alive and well. McNally’s work is a reminder that we live in an age where a single act of curiosity can ripple across millions of screens, forcing everyone, from fans to corporations, to reconsider what authenticity really means.
When Curiosity Becomes a Profession
The internet rewards curiosity, sometimes in the strangest ways. McNally, a former U.S. Marine Staff Sergeant, built his YouTube channel around testing the limits of security devices such as padlocks, bike locks, safes, and anything that promised to keep people out. His skillset, sharpened through service and honed by patience, found a global audience fascinated by the tension between promise and reality. Each video was both tutorial and experiment, a mix of precision, patience, and suspense that drew millions of viewers into the hidden mechanics of security.
But what made McNally’s channel special was his intention. He wasn’t breaking locks for fun, he was exposing flaws in design, encouraging manufacturers to improve their products, and helping viewers make more informed decisions. In his world, transparency was a form of public service. Yet, as his channel grew, so did the friction between education and exposure. Some companies praised his insights, while others saw him as a threat to their reputation. His growing influence blurred the line between teacher and troublemaker.
Curiosity, when pursued publicly, is both liberating and dangerous. McNally’s videos did more than reveal how locks work, they revealed how industries react when their confidence is challenged. Each click of his content became an act of resistance against complacency. The same curiosity that powered his rise also tested the limits of how much truth corporations are willing to tolerate.
The Challenge That Sparked a Lawsuit
The story took a sharp turn in March 2025 when Florida-based Proven Industries released a promotional video for its model 651 trailer hitch lock. In the clip, a company representative boasted that their lock could withstand everything from sledgehammers to bolt cutters. The tone was proud, even defiant, and that defiance invited attention. Within hours, viewers began to question the claim, tagging McNally and daring him to put it to the test.
Proven’s social media manager, responding with a smirk, wrote, “He prefers the cheap locks lol because they are easy and fast.” That single comment lit the fuse. On April 3, McNally posted a fifteen-second video titled Breaking Proven Industries’ ‘Unbreakable’ Lock With a Can. Calmly and methodically, he cut a strip from an aluminum Liquid Death can, inserted it into the lock, and within seconds, it clicked open. It was devastatingly simple.
The clip went viral, reaching more than ten million views in days. Fans celebrated McNally’s ingenuity, while others laughed at how easily the “unbreakable” lock had been defeated. Proven Industries, however, saw humiliation where others saw curiosity. What had begun as a marketing boast turned into a public relations disaster. The company’s credibility was suddenly hanging by a thread.
At its core, the incident wasn’t about a lock, it was about pride. The internet is merciless when it comes to irony, and Proven’s arrogance became its undoing. McNally hadn’t set out to provoke, but his demonstration exposed a deeper truth about how fragile corporate confidence can be in the face of transparency.
When Ego Meets the Internet
Instead of accepting the viral loss gracefully, Proven Industries decided to fight back. Ron Lee, the company’s owner, messaged McNally directly with a terse warning: “Just wanted to say thanks and be prepared.” That cryptic note set the tone for what followed, a tense and public confrontation. Soon after, Proven released a video accusing McNally of using a “pre-cut shim” and claimed he had staged the demonstration.
Rather than protecting their reputation, the move backfired spectacularly. The more the company tried to discredit McNally, the more the internet rallied behind him. Fans viewed Proven’s response as an overreaction, a corporate tantrum against a man who had simply exposed the truth. It was a classic case of the Streisand effect, an attempt to silence criticism that only drew more attention to it.
By April’s end, Proven had filed multiple DMCA takedown requests, alleging that McNally’s brief use of their promo video violated copyright law. McNally argued fair use, claiming his purpose was commentary and criticism. The battle escalated until it reached federal court. On June 13, Judge Mary Scriven delivered her ruling: “This is a capitalist market and people say what they say. As long as it’s not false, they say what they say.” With that, Proven’s case collapsed. The ruling wasn’t just a victory for McNally, it was a reaffirmation of free expression in the digital age.
Ironically, Proven’s lawsuit had done more harm than McNally’s video ever could. They had tried to shut down a conversation and ended up amplifying it. The more they fought, the more people watched. Their defeat became symbolic of a larger truth about the internet: control is an illusion, and authenticity always finds its way through.
Lessons in Ego, Innovation, and Attention
McNally’s saga is more than a story about a lawsuit, it’s a mirror held up to our times. It shows how easily power can shift when one person with curiosity and conviction challenges a larger system. For decades, corporations controlled information; now, creators do. The playing field has changed, and so have the rules. Transparency, once optional, is now demanded.
Proven’s downfall wasn’t technological, it was psychological. Their arrogance blinded them to the fact that the internet values honesty over perfection. In contrast, McNally’s quiet confidence and focus on education resonated deeply with audiences who crave authenticity in a world saturated with marketing spin. His approach reminded people that truth doesn’t need polish, it just needs courage.
The story highlights a deeper cultural shift. We live in an age where knowledge is power, and sharing it is rebellion. McNally’s simple act of testing a lock became a symbol of intellectual independence. It’s a reminder that progress often comes from those willing to question what others take for granted.
What We Can Learn From This
McNally’s experience offers lessons for everyone, creators, corporations, and viewers alike. For creators, it’s proof that curiosity can change the world, but it comes with responsibility. Every act of exposure carries weight. For companies, it’s a warning: transparency is not a weakness, it’s a strength. Those who resist it risk losing the trust of the very people they seek to serve.
The story also challenges individuals to rethink how they handle truth. When someone exposes our flaws, do we defend our pride or embrace the opportunity to grow? Proven Industries chose the former and paid the price. McNally, on the other hand, remained focused on his purpose, to educate, not embarrass. That distinction made all the difference.
Ultimately, the story isn’t about a can or a lock, it’s about perspective. When we cling to ego, we lose sight of progress. When we approach the world with curiosity and humility, even failure becomes a form of wisdom.
Reflection: The Locks We Build Within
At its heart, this story isn’t about metal or mechanics, it’s about the locks we build inside ourselves. The ones made of fear, pride, and control. McNally’s simple experiment with an aluminum can reminds us that every barrier we create can be opened, often not by force, but by understanding.
The irony of a $130 lock being undone by a scrap of metal speaks volumes about human nature. We often overestimate our defenses and underestimate creativity. We build walls to protect ourselves, but sometimes those walls keep us from growing. McNally’s act was more than a demonstration, it was a metaphor for what happens when curiosity meets courage.
We can laugh at the absurdity of it all, but beneath the humor lies a profound truth. Everything we believe to be unbreakable is only waiting for the right question to set it free. The locks we build, both physical and emotional, exist to be opened. And sometimes, all it takes is a curious mind and a strip of aluminum to remind us that nothing stays sealed forever.