True crime has always been fascinating to a certain audience. The type who love to spend their free time accompanied by tales of the darkest side of humanity. Since my first brush with “Dateline” as a high school freshman, I’ve delved into the unnerving and paranoia-inducing world of true crime. Podcasts, books, documentaries, and TV specials; myself and many others consume true crime media like others consume reality TV or high fantasy. But unlike “Bravo” or the Lord of the Rings, true crime is not just entertainment. Every case, every killer has a victim. Someone who loved and was loved. Someone who deserved so much more than a tragic end they got. A real, flesh-and-blood person who existed outside of the 45-minute podcast you listen to at 3 PM on a Tuesday. So is true-crime even ethical?
It depends. Obviously, the worst aspect of the true-crime community is those who idolize the killers. It’s sickening to everybody — those in and outside of the true-crime community. In 2020, Ted Bundy, Jeffery Dahmer, and Myra Hindley all have fans. Some might argue that without true crime media, these monsters would not enjoy any fame. While this may be true, those who fawn over serial killers are a small minority of the true-crime community. When they show their faces beyond their own twisted groups, they are ostracized immediately. Most understand serial killers are subhuman and will reject those who choose to idolize them.
While the morality of some in the community is clearly warped, mainstream true crime media, if not careful, can also become ethically compromised. I was listening to one podcast I had really enjoyed, where the hosts spend an episode or two discussing a murder case or serial killer. While there was some humor involved, it was always at an appropriate time and never at the expense of any victims. Until their episodes covering the BTK killer. One of the hosts, perhaps jokingly, asked the audience to draw BTK and Ted Bundy in a scene that referenced “Mean Girls”. Whether or not the host was joking, fans of the podcast did create drawings of the two serial killers. While no one in the situation overtly idolized the killers, I found it horrifying that a host would ask (and fans would draw) what amounted to fanart of serial killers. And in the next episode, the host thanked those who submitted the drawings, apparently giving no further thought to the ethics of the issue. Needless to say, I do not listen to the podcast anymore. While fans of serial killers do not make up a large portion of the true-crime community, I’ve found many instances of people treating killers like fictional characters rather than the very real blights on civilization that they were. This means serial killer fanart, serial killer coloring books, and the act of having a favorite serial killer. These attitudes diminish the evil nature of their crimes and do not bring justice to the people who really matter, the victims. Which is the point of true crime: tell the victims’ stories so they are never forgotten, and, if they haven’t yet, receive the justice they deserve.
Even though many creators don’t treat cases with respect, when they do, only good things come from it. Those who cover cold and missing person cases bring more light to the situation and potentially reach someone who knows what happened. Though from an entertainment perspective, the story does not have an ending and can feel unfinished, these are the most important cases to cover because the victims are still waiting for justice. Victims must take precedence over entertainment. Even solved murder cases are beneficial stories to tell. First, it ensures victims are never forgotten. Family members and friends can have a platform to share memories of their loved one who was killed, and they can cement the killer as evil in the minds of the audience. Second, the audience learns a healthy amount of skepticism. While the victim is never at fault, people can learn from their stories, and fall asleep with their doors and windows locked tight and never accept rides from strangers.
With all of this in mind, it might be time to stop creating works about well-known serial killers. Most people already know about them and their victims, and the continued media covering their crimes only increases their fame. Exceptions, of course, exist. Some serial killers’ victims still have not been identified or found. It is important to talk about John Wayne Gacy because the audience might know one of his unidentified victims, and they just need a call to action. The Moors Murders’ victims are all identified, but Keith Bennett’s body is still lost. Some serial killers themselves are unidentified, namely the Zodiac Killer. People need to be aware of his crimes because one tip could lead to a conviction and justice for the victims. And there are infamous cases of serial killers being released. Karla Holmoka should be famous not because of her crimes, but because she should never have a day of peace in her life, even if she is not in prison. If everyone knows who she is, she will never be able to dupe anyone into believing she is anything but a monster. Occasionally, a well-done documentary makes the audience rethink how the American justice system works by highlighting cases of wrongful convictions.
True crime is tricky. You can easily get pulled into a side of the community where hosts ask for fanart of serial killers or promote coloring books featuring the worst humanity has to offer. But, when done right, true crime can be a source of justice, a way to celebrate victims and expose their killers as nothing less than heinous. So is true-crime ethical? It depends on how you choose to consume it.