True crime entertainment seems to be everywhere these days. Are you a fan? Do you listen to podcasts, read books, or watch documentaries, TV shows and movies that tell the stories of real-life victims and perpetrators?
If so, have you ever wrestled with whether your consumption of this content is ethical?
In “My Sister Was Murdered 30 Years Ago. True Crime Repackages Our Pain as Entertainment,” Annie Nichol, a writer and activist, says the genre can be harmful to victims and their families:
In the 1990s you would have been hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t know the name of my sister Polly Klaas. I was 6 years old when a stranger abducted 12-year-old Polly from our bedroom on the evening of Oct. 1, 1993. Her face quickly became a fixture on nightly news, her name featured prominently in headlines alongside fearmongering about crime rates. News crews broadcast from our living room and remained camped in front of our house during the two-month search before her body was found.
Though the media frenzy should have ended there, it only intensified, fueling a political climate primed for reactionary reprisal. Polly’s kidnapping from our middle-class, white, suburban community triggered a national outcry for punishment and retribution.
In the next few years, true crime began to morph into the media obsession it is today. Last year, The Hollywood Reporter alerted its readers to “30 True-Crime Series to Binge Right Now.” As I write this, nearly half of Apple’s top 20 podcasts in the United States are devoted to true crime, and the internet is saturated with recommendations for the best new true crime books to read.
One might argue that this genre honors victims and those who solved or sought to solve the cases. However, as a survivor whose tragedy continues to be exploited by creators of true crime stories, I know the personal pain of this appropriation, as well as how coverage of these high-profile cases can contribute to broader injustices. The exploitation of victims’ stories often carries a steep cost for their families as their tragedies are commodified and their privacy repeatedly violated for mass consumption.
In 2022, for instance, the release of “Dahmer — Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story” on Netflix caused profound distress among many family members of Dahmer’s victims, who felt that the show was profiting from their pain, misrepresenting actual events and retraumatizing those who had lived through the horror of Dahmer’s crimes.
On top of those harms, the stories that don’t fit with true crime’s cultural emphasis on white female victimhood too often go untold.
Students, read the entire article and then tell us:
What is your reaction to Ms. Nichol’s essay? What in it surprised, moved or resonated with you most?
Does her story make you think any differently about your own consumption of true crime? Why or why not?
What do you think explains the media obsession with true crime?
What, in your opinion, are the biggest issues with true crime as a genre?
What good, if any, do you think can come from true crime entertainment? Can you think of any examples?
When you weigh the positives with the negatives, do you think true crime as entertainment — whether books, documentaries, movies, TV shows or podcasts — is ethical? Do you think it’s possible for people to create and consume true crime content in a responsible way? If so, how? If not, why not?
Students 13 and older in the United States and Britain, and 16 and older elsewhere, are invited to comment. All comments are moderated by the Learning Network staff, but please keep in mind that once your comment is accepted, it will be made public and may appear in print.
Find more Student Opinion questions here. Teachers, check out this guide to learn how you can incorporate these prompts into your classroom.
