True Crime: An Unethical Phenomenon

For as long as I can remember, my mother and I have bonded over true crime. It’s a familiar routine; the latest episode of Dateline plays while we cook, work, or just enjoy each other’s company. Although slightly grim, this weekly tradition has stuck around throughout my life, and I look forward to it each time a new episode premieres. I once asked her about it, and apparently, my mom has seen every single episode of Dateline since it first started airing. That response fascinates me. What could compel someone to watch such a dark program every week running back to when they were a teenager? After much thought, I believe the answer lies in our empathy. When I watch Dateline, I’ve noticed that each episode focuses more on the victim than the killer, letting intervi ews of their families guide the emotional narrative, as opposed to focusing on the details of the victims’ tragic deaths. When my mother and I discuss each episode, we rarely touch upon the perpetrator of that week’s crime, choosing to ponder the stories of the victims, not what happened to them, but who they were as people.

However, with the rise of crime content on the internet, our means of consuming this popular genre have changed significantly. Our obsession with true crime shows itself in the ever-growing number of podcasts and YouTube videos that recount the details of recent and old murders alike. Although one can’t go a day without criminal content appearing on their social media pages, there has been considerable condemnation of content creators who make a career out of such horrible crimes. Our interest in this genre, the unmistakable pull we have to all that is morbid and mysterious, reveals something about us–but whether that’s an indication of humanity’s rotting moral compass or a revitalization of our empathy is an ongoing debate.

When exploring the depths of low-effort crime content, it’s often, but not always, exploitative in tone. Videos often feature eye-catching phrases, clickbait titles, and thumbnails involving shocking blood splatter, sometimes even around a victim’s photograph. Creators seem to fine-tune these thumbnails until they rack up thousands of views. With this in mind, the goal of these videos doesn’t seem to be catharsis or a quest for justice–and certainly not empathy and understanding for the victim. Instead, they create content for money, attention, and engagement. Arguably, the aspect of crime content that needs the most critique is the inherent entertainment value it seems to hold and how its audience completely ignores the reality behind these cases in favor of their own personal gain. Both creators and society have become so enamored by these stories that they’ve become detached from the victim’s humanity.

What creators don’t understand is that they can explore topics regarding crime without engaging in exploitation. From raising awareness about missing people to putting pressure on officials to investigate unsolved cases there are many avenues crime influencers could take to create content that centers on respecting victims and working towards justice for all. 

In the end, a condemnation of the true crime genre as a whole isn’t entirely productive. Despite the problems the true crime community has, families could use it to spread awareness of legislation, systemic hindrances, and misconceptions about the justice system. So, instead of viewing true crime as gossip or ghost stories, we should always remind ourselves that the people involved lead lives just like we do and ask ourselves, what if it was us?