Mike Adamick explores why people enjoy true crime narratives.
I listen to true crime the way other people listen to music. A little murder here, a little stalking there. You know, something to really take the edge off. The background soundtrack of my life has become less “soothing saxophone riff” and more “Hellllo Murderinos.” Doing the dishes used to mean zoning out and Palmolive smooth nail beds.
Now, I catch myself wondering which serial killer is at the window. Running used to be a way to clear my head. Now, every bush hides a kidnapper. And that friendly neighbor? “Well, he looks like he knows how to hide a body.” The worst part is I can’t stop. And I’m not alone.
The true crime podcast industry is worth billions today. Documentaries flood streaming services. True crime thrillers top the best-selling charts. True crime: It’s practically in our blood. Scholar Joy Wiltenberg tells us that the rise of the printing press in 16th century Germany, also gave rise to true crime narratives.
I think these stories are our way of whistling past the graveyard. If we can consume enough, maybe we can trick ourselves into believing we know how to survive a dangerous world — that we’re safe. But what are we safe… from? Ourselves? The society we’re helping co-create?