Crime, Media, and Memory: How True Crime Podcasting Shapes Our Perception of Justice

By Hannah Ryu With contributions from Dr. Lee Ji-eun, Professor of Criminology at Yonsei University
The true crime genre is as old as the printing press itself. But in the 21st century, it has found its most powerful and intimate medium yet: the podcast. Shows like "Serial," "My Favorite Murder," and a thousand others have transformed the genre from a niche interest into a dominant force in popular culture. Millions of listeners tune in every week, becoming amateur sleuths, armchair detectives, and devoted followers of stories of real-life tragedy. This boom has created a powerful new media industry, but it also raises profound questions about the ethics of turning murder into entertainment and the impact this genre is having on our collective understanding of crime, victims, and the justice system itself.
The psychological appeal of true crime is complex. For many, it taps into a primal fascination with the darker aspects of human nature, allowing us to explore fear and transgression from a safe distance. It can also serve a practical, albeit subconscious, purpose. Studies have shown that women, who make up the majority of the true crime audience, are often drawn to these stories as a way of learning about potential threats and survival strategies. By understanding the patterns of criminal behavior, listeners can feel a sense of preparedness and control in an uncertain world. This aligns with the psychological concept of preparedness theory, where we are evolutionarily predisposed to pay close attention to potential threats in our environment.
However, this fascination comes with significant cognitive side effects. As noted by criminology expert Dr. Lee Ji-eun, the constant consumption of true crime narratives can lead to a distorted perception of risk, a phenomenon known as mean world syndrome. Because these stories focus on the most extreme and violent forms of crime, listeners may begin to overestimate their own likelihood of being victimized and develop a heightened sense of fear and mistrust. "The genre almost exclusively focuses on rare, sensational cases," Dr. Lee explains, "which can lead the public to believe that violent crime is more prevalent and random than it actually is, while ignoring the more common, systemic issues that drive criminality."
Furthermore, the transformation of a real case into a narrative for entertainment raises serious ethical issues. Victims and their families are often re-traumatized as their deepest personal tragedies are dissected and debated by a global audience. The "gamification" of investigation, where podcasters and their online communities speculate about suspects, can interfere with active police work and lead to the harassment of innocent people.
While some true crime podcasts have done laudable work, uncovering wrongful convictions and bringing attention to cold cases, the genre as a whole operates in a grey area. It exists at the uncomfortable intersection of journalism, entertainment, and voyeurism. As consumers of these stories, we have a responsibility to be critical listeners. We must ask ourselves whether the story we are listening to is honoring the victims or simply exploiting their tragedy for downloads. We must remember that behind every compelling narrative are real people whose lives were irrevocably broken. Without that critical lens, we risk allowing our fascination with the "who" and the "how" of a crime to overshadow the devastating reality of the "what."