Monetising Murder: The Rise of True Crime

In recent years, media and entertainment have been saturated with true crime tales, from solved to unsolved, spree-killers to serial. This cultural obsession has made the true crime genre a hugely profitable business, but with increasing interest, questions have been raised about the morality of commercialising the worst moments of people’s lives. The line in the sand between harmless and harmful seems to be washing away in the tide as viewer numbers climb and murders become sensationalised. 

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the occasional true crime documentary as much as the next girl, but there is always a vague uncomfortable feeling as I remember the reality of what I’m watching. So why is this genre so suddenly capturing the mass populace’s interest? 

Despite what it may seem, true crime as entertainment is not a modern invention. The commercialisation of true crime arguably originated in the 16th century, alongside the development of mass publication. It was commonly enjoyed as ballads and pamphlets, ranging from intense sensationalisation to pretty sincere documentation.

This intrigue in the dark shadows of society slowly developed over time and culminated in the hugely popular and successful genre we see today. One could argue therefore, that the fascination with true crime has always formed a part of human culture. However, recently this genre has sky-rocketed, accounting for some of the most watched shows in recent years. Just the latest of a long list of examples is Unsolved Mysteries: Volume 4, which recently topped Netflix’s streaming charts. Is this boom in popularity due to the ease at which people can access these shows, or is there something else to it? 

True crime makes for a much more engaging and immersive experience

One undeniable factor in the popularity of these shows is the realism. There is something grimly intriguing in the knowledge that everything you are watching happened not in some realm of fantasy, but in the world we all live in. True crime makes for a much more engaging and immersive experience; the viewer feels the danger and feels as though they themselves are a part of the mystery as it unfolds.  

Unfortunately, what can often be lost in the immersive tale is the devastating reality of the victim and their family. It is for this reason that many true crime shows like to draw particular attention to the victims and their humanity, ensuring that viewers who are swept up in the drama of the chase and the mysticism of the often-enigmatic killer do not lose sight of the real moral of the story. 

I think I watch true crime for the same reason I watch and read fictional crime and mystery stories. Logically, this form of entertainment should not appeal to me, filled as it is with violence and horror. Yet, I think it is because they are filled with things I am scared of that I watch it. Subconsciously, I want to experience that horror and suffering, but from the safety of the sofa. The majority of viewers of true crime are women, and it is easy to imagine that many of them feel the same way. The genre provides a way of confronting the fear which many women experience around predatory men. 

And perhaps we also hope that by understanding these tales, we can avoid repeating them. The idea of ‘understanding’ seems to be central to why people watch true crime. It is all a desperate attempt to understand the unexplainable, the unknown, the alien. The horrors of true crime are unknown to most people. Yet those horrors exist, and the human desire to explore and understand the unknown is tremendous, especially when motivated by fear. Morbid curiosity is a natural part of the human psyche; we are engineered to be enthralled by tales of true crime.  

While it may seem bizarre that people can find enjoyment in something so dark, there is also a hint of beauty in it

And yet, just because there is a desire for true crime stories, does not make the commodification of those stories right. The ethical dilemma surrounding the dramatization of tragedy is a touchy subject. Is the brief satisfaction we garner from vaguely understanding a killer’s dark and complicated psyche enough to justify corporations profiting off the pain of grieving families? Or the discomfort they feel as their loved one’s death is sensationalised, their killer made famous and even in some cases iconised? 

The question is complicated because the genre is so large. Some documentaries do it right and some have even led to the solving of the crimes they depict. But for every one such as this, there is another that insensitively exploits tragedy for profit. 

While it may seem bizarre that people can find enjoyment in something so dark, there is also a hint of beauty in it. The victim’s life is memorialized. Often the family features to say their bit about their loved one for the world to hear, allowing the memory to echo into our homes and hearts.

And so perhaps the true crime phenomenon is not as disturbing and twisted as it may at first appear. But it always bears thinking, who is really making a killing off of killers?