Like most late nights, I found myself doom scrolling on Youtube, sifting through the usual video recommendations.

Until a thumbnail so unusual, so morbid, caught my eye.

A woman posing in neon green eye-makeup next to the words “The Cannibal Cop.”

Um, what?

True crime is a nonfiction genre of literature, film, podcasts, etc., that depicts and examines real crime cases. It has particularly captivated younger audiences, especially women, who are drawn to the suspense, mystery and psychological intrigue of understanding criminal minds, often engaging with it as a form of amateur detective work.

But beneath the entertainment factor lies an uncomfortable reality: true crime isn’t just storytelling. These are real people’s tragedies, repackaged for our consumption.

The line between awareness and exploitation has blurred. When we listen to graphic details of someone’s murder, are we really learning about crime and justice, or are we just desensitizing ourselves to human suffering?

True crime creators often profit off real victims’ pain without their families’ consent. The Netflix series “Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story” is a prime example. It sparked outrage when the victims’ families revealed they were never consulted, never compensated and deeply traumatized by the show’s release. Rita Isbell, the sister of one of Dahmer’s victims, described watching a reenactment of her own emotional courtroom testimony as retraumatizing. Yet, these exploitative stories keep getting greenlit because they rake in views and ad revenue.

Think about the last true crime case you watched or listened to. Did it make you feel sympathy for the victim, or did it make you fixate on the killer’s methods and psychology? The genre too often glorifies criminals, turning them into pop culture icons while reducing their victims to footnotes. It’s not uncommon to see viewers joking about serial killers on social media or dressing up as them for Halloween, ignoring the fact that these were real people who inflicted unimaginable pain.

The ethical concerns extend beyond television. Podcasts like “My Favorite Murder” and “Crime Junkie” have been criticized for sensationalizing cases, sometimes even plagiarizing the work of journalists and law enforcement. Many social media accounts do makeup, bake cookies or even do mukbangs while giving detailed accounts of true crime cases, which is distasteful and disrespectful to say the least. In many instances, the families of victims have explicitly asked for their loved ones’ stories to be left alone, yet true crime creators continue to push content with little regard for the emotional toll.

So, is true crime in general taboo?

Not necessarily.

True crime does have its upsides. Sharing these stories can raise awareness and shed light on social issues like inequality and systemic failures, opening up discussions.

In order to respectfully and mindfully consume true crime, try to remember these things as you’re tuning in:

Is this media prioritizing the victim’s story, or is it glorifying the criminal?
Are the victims’ families okay with their story being told?
Am I using true crime to be more informed, or just for the thrill?

If true crime is truly about seeking justice, we should engage with it ethically – supporting media that amplifies underrepresented cases and focuses on solutions, not spectacle. Some creators, like journalist Billy Jensen, actively work to solve cold cases rather than simply rehashing gruesome details. Ethical true crime coverage exists, but it requires effort to find and support it.

Let’s start thinking critically about the media we consume. If we genuinely care about justice, we should engage with true crime in a way that respects the victims and their families, rather than reducing their suffering to another form of amusement.