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Digital Storytelling or Digital Exploitation: True Crime in the Age of Social Media

Updated Published
Morgan Heimkreiter Student Contributor, University of South Florida - St. Petersburg
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at USFSP chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

Content warning this article mentions murder and assault so reader discretion is advised 

True crime has always fascinated audiences. From classic documentaries to the highest streaming podcasts, people have long been drawn to stories of mystery, justice, and the darker sides of humanity. But in recent years, true crime has taken on a new form; short, fast-paced, and viral. Platforms like TikTok and YouTube have turned real tragedies into trending topics, with creators dissecting evidence, speculating motives, and narrating victims’ final moments. While this new wave of digital storytelling can bring awareness to unsolved cases and even help reopen investigations, it also blurs important ethical lines. As entertainment and empathy collide, at what point does true crime content cross from advocacy into exploitation? 

Exploitation and Victim Privacy 

At the center of every true-crime story is a victim, a real person whose life was taken. Yet on social media, these victims are frequently reduced to “content.” Creators use names, photographs, and even animated and recreated footage of victims’ final hours to attract views and engagement. Sometimes they read out private texts or share personal details obtained by true journalists, ignoring the fact that these moments were never meant for public consumption. For grieving families, this public exposure can be devastating. Many have spoken out about feeling retraumatized by videos that sensationalized their loved ones passing or spread misinformation. Requests to remove insensitive content can go unanswered, as creators prioritize virality over respect. The power of social media allows these stories to reach millions, but that reach comes at a cost of the dignity and privacy of those most affected. 

Profiting from the Tragedies 

True crime’s booming popularity has turned it into the next big industry. YouTube channels, podcasts, and TikTok creators now earn substantial income through ad revenue, sponsorships, and even case-themed merchandise. When videos about tragedy generate thousands of dollars in profit, or when creators sell merchandise inspired by real cases, the line between awareness and exploitation begins to blur. What starts as storytelling can easily slip into opportunism, where human suffering becomes a profitable brand. Because social media rewards content that provokes strong emotions, creators often emphasize shocking details, speculation, or cliffhanger-style narration over verified facts or sensitivity. The result is a version of true crime that prioritizes drama over truth, turning justice into a pillar for entertainment. Of course, creators have the right to earn a living from their work, but ethical storytelling demands responsibility. If someone profits from recounting real tragedy, they also could carry a moral obligation to give back, by donating proceeds to victims’ families, supporting advocacy efforts, or using their platform to promote awareness and prevention. Without such accountability, true crime could becoming not a tool for justice, but a spectacle built on pain. 

Misinformation and Internet detectives 

Another major ethical concern lies in the rise of “armchair detectives”, social media users who take it upon themselves to investigate crimes, analyze clues, or locate missing persons. Platforms like TikTok and Reddit are filled with users dissecting timelines, comparing evidence, and proposing theories, often in real time. Many of these efforts stem from good intentions yet, without proper training or accountability, these digital investigations can do far more harm than good. During the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, Reddit users attempted to crowdsource the identification of suspects. Their speculation quickly spiraled into misinformation, leading to the wrongful identification and harassment of innocent people. A similar pattern emerged during the Gabby Petito case in 2021, when online sleuths flooded social media with unverified claims, conspiracy theories, and emotional commentary. While the attention brought widespread visibility to the case, it also spread confusion, amplified rumors, and complicated official investigations. 

Unlike professional journalists or law enforcement officers, online creators face no editorial standards or ethical constraints. They can publish speculation as fact, manipulate evidence for dramatic effect, or abandon a story altogether once the engagement dies down. The pace of social media only intensifies this problem: misinformation spreads faster than truth, and once a false claim reaches millions, retractions rarely have the same impact. This phenomenon raises difficult ethical questions about responsibility and the limits of online participation. When creators or communities claim to “help,” but their actions mislead audiences or harm real people, their efforts become not only misguided but dangerous. Justice cannot thrive in an environment ruled by clicks, algorithms, and emotional reaction.  

Emotional Desensitization 

Beyond the tangible harm caused to victims and investigations, true crime’s popularity also carries a quieter but profound emotional cost for society as a whole. These stories are designed to provoke strong feelings of fear, outrage, and fascination because emotion drives engagement. Yet, the constant exposure to graphic or tragic content can gradually dull our sensitivity to it. As audiences scroll past video after video about murders, assault, and disappearances, real suffering begins to blend into the background noise of entertainment. What should inspire empathy and reflection instead becomes routine, another story to analyze, react to, and move on from. This emotional detachment can distort how people perceive crime and justice, reduces complex human experiences to simplified narratives of villains and victims. The danger lies in what this normalization of violence does to collective empathy. When every tragedy becomes a source of fascination, it becomes harder to respond to real suffering with genuine compassion. True crime, in its most ethical form, should deepen understanding and humanize victims, not desensitize audiences to the pain of others. 

The rise of true crime forces a critical examination of our own consumption as these stories do hold the potential to generate awareness and seek justice, this power is also double-edged sword between advocacy and exploitation is crossed when the pursuit of entertainment, profit, or online clout overshadows the respect for victims and the truth. Navigating this new era of media requires a collective shift in responsibility from the creators who must prioritize ethics over engagement and to the audiences who must consciously choose empathy over mere entertainment. 

Hi, I'm Morgan and a political science major from Tampa and a second-year here at USFSP I love writing about pop culture and its historical and political undertones.