What comes to your mind when someone mentions true crime? Murder, physical assault, robbery, or kidnapping? I asked this question to more than 20 people, and a maximum of them answered with either murder or kidnapping. Most streaming platforms today are capitalizing on true crimes with documentaries and “inspired by true story” content that draws millions of viewers. The suspense and mystery keep audiences on edge, giving them an opportunity to unweave a real-life horror story. It’s exciting, almost like putting together a puzzle. It’s fascinating to see how our perception of crime is defined by the content we consume on a daily basis. Hence, it would be safe to say that we’ve learned to not just acknowledge but glorify suffering.
According to The True Crime Consumer Report by Edison Research, 84% of the US population watches true crime media. Isn’t that an overwhelming number? This raises an important question: Do we consume true crime for the purpose of entertainment, awareness, or something truly sinister?
More than 30 true-crime documentaries were released on major streaming platforms and gained prominence in 2024. They remain in the list of top 10 watches even months after release, reaching a wider audience each passing day. YouTube, for example, is a hub of several self-proclaimed investigators and true-crime fanatics. One can find hour-long discussions and even 30-second shorts about the most gruesome crimes, all available at our fingertips. However, the easy accessibility of such information exploits more than it educates. Not every piece of content is fact-checked. Not all information is ethically gathered, yet it is consumed by the masses with the enthusiasm of a detective in training. The thrill is intoxicating, and there is nothing stopping the content producer and consumer from exploiting real-life tragedies.
True crime documentaries are designed to draw audiences into the world of crime by recreating events with dramatic flair. What starts as sympathy soon turns into empathy, and eventually, the viewer starts living the crime in their mind, solving the plot like an investigator. However, there may be negative psychological consequences from this phenomenon. Anxiety, trauma, and emotional weariness are common complaints from true crime fans. The fact that women frequently make up the majority of the victims in these documentaries is an unavoidable recurring topic. The pattern is clear and repetitive, but where do we draw the line?
It took me hours to gather myself after watching the top 5 genre-specific documentaries on Netflix, including the American Murder Collection by Netflix, The Zodiac Killer Case, and The Black Dahlia Murder. It was intriguing yet disturbing to realize that gruesome murders dominate the true crime genre, whereas crimes like robbery or deception rarely receive the same attention. Why? Because murder is more thrilling. The bloodier, the better.
An interesting addition to the lineup of true-crime entertainment is Adolescence, a Netflix series that delves into the minds of problematic children and criminal behaviour. Unlike typical true crime films, which focus on retelling past events, Adolescence investigates the psychological factors that contribute to criminal behaviour. It chronicles the lives of youths who commit horrible crimes, raising questions about whether their acts are motivated by nature or nurture. So, are we watching to comprehend, prevent, or simply live in the horror?
Even though Adolescence is not inspired by any true story, it clearly highlights the knife crimes carried out by young boys in the UK. The lead actor and creator of the show, Stephen Graham, mentioned on a late-night show that they didn’t want the narrative to be about “who had done it” but rather “why” it was carried out. This shift of perspective and change of narrative brings a lot more to the table. Understanding the crime and the criminal is aided by shifting the focus from the perpetrator to the reason for the crime.
However, many viewers focused on the show's cinematography, direction, and aesthetic choices rather than the deeper psychological themes and societal challenges it sought to emphasize. Many viewers were more thrilled about camera angles, the number of shots, and techniques used instead of the show's core message. Arguments concerning creative decisions swiftly took centre stage in the conversation, overshadowing the show's serious subject matter.
Adolescence's last episode, which focused on the surviving family members of the offenders rather than the victims, was one of its most influential themes. After learning that a loved one had committed unimaginable crimes, the show portrayed the difficulties parents and siblings have in navigating life. This was a painful but important perspective for many viewers. It's simple to see criminals as lone wolves, yet they frequently belong to a family that was unaware of their presence. Viewers were forced to confront the fact that crime doesn't simply destroy victims—it creates wounds on both sides.
After watching several true-crime documentaries and following a YouTuber obsessed with murderers for the past two months, I have realized that true crime is a double-edged sword. What it does to your brain is exciting news for a therapist’s wallet and one of your worst nightmares. While some view these documentaries as educational tools—offering lessons on safety, awareness, and the criminal mind—others absorb the ideas for their own notorious agendas. A real-life example? A man in India committed a crime and attempted to destroy the evidence using techniques he learned from a crime drama called Dexter.
This phenomenon calls into question the ethical implications for true crime media. How much is too much? At what point does the narrative turn into exploitation? While these documentaries shed light on real-life crimes and may even assist in reviving cold cases, they run the danger of glorifying the offenders and re-traumatizing the victims and their families.
As consumers, we need to be aware of what we watch and how we absorb it because true crime is here to stay. Are we unwittingly supporting a business that makes money out of tragedy, or are we consuming this content responsibly? The choice remains in the hands of a responsible content consumer.















