The surge in true crime’s popularity suggests something slightly uncomfortable about our media habits: many of us – this writer included – now casually unwind to real-life stories of murder, deception, and forensic investigation. But as public appetite grows, so does criticism, and it raises an uneasy question for fans: what exactly are we getting out of it?
True crime has become one of the most consumed genres of media in recent years, spanning documentaries, podcasts, social media breakdowns, and dramatized series like Netflix’s Monsters, which pulled in 12.3 million views in just the first four days of release for Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story.
As the genre cements itself alongside comedy and romance as a mainstream entertainment category, concerns are increasingly being raised around the ethics of producing and consuming content that appears to glorify perpetrators and exploit victims.
A 2022 YouGov poll found that around 50 percent of Americans enjoy true crime media, with women making up 58 percent of that audience. Despite its recent boom, this isn’t a new cultural obsession; our fascination with the macabre actually has a long history. In the 1500s and 1600s, “murder pamphlets”, which detailed local crimes, were popular reading material in Elizabethan England. So, what keeps drawing so many people to stories rooted in real violence and tragedy?
Over time, true crime evolved alongside media – from sensationalist tabloids and penny dreadfuls in the 1800s to radio dramas, courtroom television, and today’s bingeable podcasts. Each era reflects its own cultural anxieties, with Victorian morality tales focusing on religious punishment, while modern fears center around gender-based violence and institutional failure.
Now more than ever, psychologists and researchers are unpacking why true crime holds such a strong appeal – particularly among women – and the negative impacts the genre may be having on the viewers, the investigative process, and those with personal connections to the crimes.
Why do people enjoy true crime?
One of the theories around the enjoyment of true crime is that the genre offers information on potentially dangerous situations. It lets us observe danger, mentally test scenarios, and ultimately feel a little more prepared. Humans may be hardwired to pay attention to crime and violence as a kind of defensive curiosity.
This is particularly true for women, who seem to be disproportionately drawn to this kind of content. Research suggests that women tend to seek more information about risks and threats than men, and true crime may play into the need for mental rehearsal of potential threats – tapping into an evolutionary “threat management system” which is tuned in to physical and sexual dangers.
Secondly, true crime may serve a similar purpose to fictional horror or going on rollercoasters: a safe space to experience and process fear. Just as a ride on Space Mountain or a trip to a haunted house can help us practice handling anxiety in a controlled way, reading about or watching real crimes can offer similar low-risk training for our emotions.
Psychologists have long linked fascination with violence to negativity bias – our brains’ tendency to prioritize threatening information as a survival mechanism. In that sense, the pull of true crime isn’t morbid curiosity so much as an evolved instinct to study danger from a safe distance.
In a new study, data from 571 participants sought to correlate true crime consumption, motivations, personality, and demographic factors. They found women consumed significantly more true crime than men across all formats, but predominantly podcasts – a disparity that doesn’t originate from general media consumption, as men generally listen to more podcasts than women.
The findings echo those of previous research, concluding that “women’s perceived victimization risks and the desire to gain knowledge for preventing attacks in real life may explain their fascination with true crime.”
The positives and negatives of true crime
As entertaining as it can be to watch, true crime media comes with a host of ethical and psychological baggage, particularly for victims and their families. In a new study, 20 people who identify as co-victims of cases portrayed in true crime productions voiced the detrimental impact the genre can have.
The co-victim interviews highlight a dichotomy of co-victims feeling both a loss of privacy and re-traumatization, while wanting the case to remain in the public eye. “There’s a horrible intrusiveness that’s never going to go away and often, it’s going to be covered for the rest of their lives,” first author of the study Kelli Boling said in a statement. “On the flip side, being available to media helps them find leads in certain cases, especially in missing person cases. It keeps people talking about the cases and sometimes helps them change the narrative and correct inaccuracies.”
The study identified five main concerns that co-victims had about true crime: inaccuracies, the sensationalization of tragedy, loss of privacy, uncomfortable interactions with true crime consumers, and a lack of control over how the stories are produced.
As much of the information in these cases is often public record, producers rarely need to seek consent or provide compensation to those related to the case. That means mistakes, exaggerations, or simplifications can slip through and into the final edit.
The rise of social media has also changed how true crime stories unfold. Platforms like TikTok and Reddit have fostered online “armchair investigators” who dissect evidence in real time, sometimes helping generate leads, but just as often spreading misinformation or targeting innocent people.
The lack of regulation to ensure that true crime media is factual means that these narrative interpretations can shape how the public perceives the crime and those involved, which in turn can affect ongoing investigations, the mental wellbeing of co-victims, trial outcomes, or even parole decisions.
This was seen with Netflix’s aforementioned dramatization of the Menendez brothers’ case. Bringing a 36-year-old case back into the spotlight, paired with emotional performances and a little artistic liberty, the public’s response to the show prompted the Los Angeles District Attorney to recommend resentencing for the pair. While the decision was ultimately influenced by increased public interest, it does highlight a potential function of true crime: keeping complex or cold cases in the public consciousness and increasing pressure on officials to continuously reevaluate evidence.
One of the most well-known examples of true crime’s real-world impact is the case of Adnan Syed, who was convicted in 2000 for the murder of his ex-girlfriend, Hae Min Lee. The 2014 podcast Serial offered a detailed reexamination of the case and is widely credited with sparking the modern true crime podcast boom. With around 300 million downloads, it became the first podcast to receive a Peabody Award. The flaws in the conviction brought to light by the series ultimately contributed to a lower court vacating Syed’s conviction in 2016 (albeit that decision was later overturned), and he was fully cleared of all charges in 2022.
Additionally, true crime can be used to teach the public about mental health, trauma, and the forensic process. These stories often offer a more nuanced understanding of criminal behavior, how and why violent crimes happen, highlight flaws in the justice system, and show how the same evidence can be interpreted in very different ways depending on who’s telling the story.
At the same time, critics argue that true crime has become a kind of “trauma entertainment,” where real suffering is packaged for consumption. It raises questions about where the line lies between awareness and exploitation.
As audiences, perhaps the real question isn’t why we watch – but how we can do so responsibly.
Source Link: Why We Can’t Stop Watching True Crime: The Psychological Pull And The Ethical Push
