True crime has transformed from a niche interest to a full-blown obsession. From podcasts and documentaries to YouTube videos, some creators dedicate their entire channels to the gruesome retellings of real crime stories. What used to be told in whispers is now discussed at the dinner table and posted on TikTok daily.
While some true crime media is educational and creates productive conversation, the majority of it isn’t ethical, repackaging real trauma as entertainment. Real people were killed or traumatized, yet we see fandoms created to idolize murderers and podcasts with titles like “My Favorite Murder.”
This genre has gone too far and has become extremely exploitative. When trauma becomes a trend and killers become icons, something is deeply wrong about the way these stories are told. I’ve never been able to listen to podcasts or videos that laugh and joke while talking about the deaths of real people. It doesn’t matter if you link a GoFundMe or ask for prayers. This content isn’t made with victims or their families in mind.
Society’s fascination with violence is not new. However, the way we package it is becoming more performative. Michigan State University criminal justice professor Dr. Karen Holt explains the world’s obsession with true crime as “nothing new - the ethical nuances have just become more complex as the media has evolved.”
In 2022, Netflix released “Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story,” which was criticized for changing key plot elements and retraumatizing families, rather than being a respectful and truthful retelling of Dahmer’s crimes.
Anne Schwartz, the journalist who first reported on Dahmer’s crimes, said many details from the original case were altered for drama in the episodes. Families of Dahmer’s victims said they were never contacted about the show, and some of their original statements were changed without consent. One family member described the episode as “harsh and careless,” stating, “It’s sad that they’re just making money off of this tragedy.”
The same ethical issues apply to social media influencers who create true crime content. Michelle Cuervo has amassed 1.6 million followers on TikTok by posting long-form retellings of true crime cases. On Sept. 11, Cuervo made a post about a heartbreaking case where a father physically and sexually abused his son. Cuervo prefaced the video with a sensitive content warning and then launched into an advertisement for her brother-in-law’s protein powder business.
The comment section was furious. Two viewers commented saying, “I truly cannot believe you did an ad before this,” and “You couldn’t have promoted the protein powder in another video?” Cuervo didn’t delete the video or acknowledge any comments regarding the advertisement.
It’s odd enough for influencers like Cuervo to grow a platform off of others’ suffering, but using these tragedies to sell products is beyond unethical.
Casual true crime conversations are also fueling a rise of “citizen sleuths.” The term refers to true crime fans who discuss opinions and theories on the case, sometimes even harassing potential suspects or families of victims.
As appetizing as it may seem to solve a cold case, ordinary people should not interject themselves into criminal investigations. This can be extremely harmful to the targeted individuals and their families and could potentially hinder the progress of the investigation. A murder or violent crime should never create a fandom, but create a space for people to grieve or ask for justice.
True crime often romanticizes the very people responsible for the violence. Viewers are captivated by the traumas and motives of criminals, but curiosity quickly turns to admiration when dramatizations cast conventionally attractive actors to play the bad guys. Think of Evan Peters as Jeffrey Dahmer or Zac Efron as Ted Bundy. Social media is already obsessed with the “I can fix him” fantasy, and portraying real killers as brooding and mysterious rather than violent predators doesn’t help the narrative.
It’s a proven fact that humans crave drama and tragedy. However, when real violence turns into binge-worthy content, the victims are sidelined, families retraumatized and killers gain attention they don’t deserve. Fans sometimes say the genre raises awareness, but remember, if there is no empathy, accountability or action, it is simply consumption of others’ suffering.
Abby Shriver is a freshman studying journalism at Ohio University. Please note the opinions expressed in this column do not represent those of The Post. Want to talk to Abby about their column? Email them at as064024@ohio.edu
