Looking into the Morals of True Crime

Telling stories is an age-old pastime — it evokes emotion, stimulates imagination and has been proven to help us release oxytocin, a chemical that increases feelings of empathy and trust. 

True crime as a genre pulls in millions of people, and it’s not hard to see why. There’s drama, high stakes and brutal details — all components necessary for a compelling narrative. Best of all, every single outrageous detail is true. 

Though fascinating, true crime documentaries expose stories of some of the worst people in human history. The horrifying tales of Jack the Ripper, H.H. Holmes, Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy have been in vogue for decades. 

Movies, docu-dramas and podcasts have made a killing off this content, profiting off amass fascination with the macabre. Creators are completely within their rights to discuss any and all of this information, but there’s still a striking ethical issue with true crime entertainment — the blatant lack of privacy and respect given to victims’ families. 

Actor Evan Peters won a Golden Globe in 2023 for his portrayal of Jeffery Dahmer in the 2022 Netflix series “Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story.” Shirley Hughes — mother of Tony Hughes, who Dahmer murdered in 1991 — was disturbed by the series, saying Peters should’ve paid respect to the victims, according to PaperMag. 

In January, Peacock released a dramatic retelling of the deadly 1988 Pan Am flight terrorist attack over Lockerbie, Scotland. The series, titled “Lockerbie: A Search for Truth,” received negative backlash from victims’ families who felt the portrayal was overdramatized and needlessly exaggerated for entertainment purposes, according to the BBC.

Michelle Ciulla Lipkin, the daughter of one of the victims of the Pan Am attack, said she was horrified by the series. 

“Showing the horrific, grotesque images of bodies falling — those are deliberate creative choices to get people to watch a TV show,” Lipkin said in an interview with the Hollywood Reporter. “You know what? That’s what happened to my dad. I don’t need to see that. I never need to see that.” 

Glorifying the macabre and showcasing killers’ depraved minds in a Hollywood light is morally corrupt. While this isn’t true crime directors’ intended purpose, it’s often the byproduct of insensitive production and thoughtless commentary. 

Hollywood isn’t the only industry making money spinning real-life horror stories — the true crime genre is everywhere, appearing in podcasts, books and even in-person events. 

On the first day of CrimeCon 2019, an annual convention for true crime fans, hundreds lined up to participate in numerous crime-themed activities. True crime enthusiasts posed for photos in orange jumpsuits, recorded fake jailbird phone calls and listened to famous true crime podcast hosts on CrimeCon’s “Podcast Row” — a room full of booths and tables, each dedicated to a different show. 

While CrimeCon provides a space for enthusiasts to find their people, at its root it profits off the traumatic experiences of victims and their families. Putting such atrocities on display for entertainment of any kind is immoral — let alone at a live, interactive convention. 

True crime media has a bright side, though. Earlier this month, The Elgin Police Department’s Cold Case unit announced their new podcast “Someone Knows Something,” intended to help solve the disappearance of Karen Schepers, who was last seen in April 1983. 

The Cold Case Unit said they believe the podcast will help inspire people who have information to come forward, potentially helping them solve cases that have stayed cold for decades.

While this is one positive example of true crime entertainment meant to do good, the vast majority of true crime media is more concerned with generating profit than upholding morality. 

Storytelling is one of the longest standing human traditions. It teaches us morals and lessons while helping us understand one another and develop new perspectives. It’s imperative true crime stories are told the right way — with due respect and consent of the victim’s family — and with the intention to inform, not to glorify.