True crime as a genre has reached such a fever pitch that it no longer needs an introduction, it just is. Here in LA, we're bombarded with billboards for the latest "Monsters" installment, all about Ed Gein, who, I gather, was the inspiration for Norman Bates or the Silence of the Lambs or the silence of the leatherface or something. My feeling about this follows the axiom -- roughly -- chop me up once, shame on you, chop me up a hundred and fifty times ... well, you can see where I'm going. I've had my fill for the time being of body parts severed and repurposed for uses unimaginable or unappetizing. But the thirst for true crime continues unabated.
I'm just now getting into Only Murders in the Building, after having gone through the excruciating torture of revising my cable TV package. The OMITB producers have done a masterful job creating a compelling mystery series while wrapping in all the best tropes, jokes and references to the true crime phenomenon -- including the true crime groupies who show up from time to time in a meta-verse function to comment and assist the main characters as they unfurl each season's murder. One does wonder why anyone would remain in a building in which murder seems so prevalent, but then I gather finding a secure coop on the Upper West Side is a very tricky proposition, so perhaps it makes more sense than we know. Anyway, with true crime having reached a meta-meta- position in our collective psyche, it occurs to me to ask what's the fascination. Why are we all over it like manbuns over avocado toast -- and AHA, when was the last time you saw either of those? -- and might it disappear just as fast?
A quick survey of the recent internet turns up several possible scenarios.
First, there's the obvious sense of engagement. The facts of a crime are revealed in lengthy, dramatic and exquisite detail, and we as the audience go along with the podcasters as they explore the twists and turns of the investigation, at each step providing our own evaluation of the evidence as presented. It's an adventure we can all be a part of.
A second, more intriguing explanation, is control. At the Netflix blog Tudum, Scott Bonin, author of Why We Love Serial Killers: The Curious Appeal of the World's Most Savage Murderers, suggests that going through the action of solving crimes takes away some of our existential anxiety: "We live in very troubled times, very alienated times, and many people feel powerless, out of sorts, and very frightened by an unpredictable and unknown future to the extent that [if] you can control something, even in a small way, it’s reassuring and gives you a sense of comfort and protection... You’re satisfying your own individual control and safety needs."
Third is the desire for justice. Professor Charles Tuggle at the University of South Carolina suggests true crime’s appeal stems from a sense that the justice system has broken down in some cases. “The murderer winds up not paying consequences,” Tuggle says. “Maybe it’s ineptitude by the investigators or prosecutors, or even malfeasance where people get bribed. This person committed a murder and should pay.” A friend echoed this sentiment further, saying it's very satisfying to see that when something horrible happens, you can listen to the interrogation, hear the evidence, see the arrest and trial and ultimately gain the satisfaction of knowing that the perpetrator paid the price.
A final and perhaps disquieting notion is our identification with the crime or the killer, albeit from a safe distance. As someone suggested to me, "we want to know the dark parts of life but hear about them from a safe distance." This is reinforced by Amanda Vicary, back at Tudum: "People like to learn about the psychological background of the killer. 'What made him kill? What warning signs can I watch for so that I don’t get killed? Was there some sort of episode that made him explode into violence?'"
Now here's the ironic twist on all this goriosity: murder and crime have statistically gone down since peaking in 1980. In truth, we live in a much safer world than our parents and grandparents.
So why the sudden fascination with murder and justice? Some have suggested the prevalence of podcasts and the intimacy involved -- you can listen when you want and feel a comfortable connection with the podcaster whispering in your ear at night. And yet, if recent politics are to be believed at all, there is a sense of outrage and injustice on all sides of the spectrum, which beg some questions: why do we feel ripped off, victimized and violated, when in reality we have more actual safety than ever before? Why does a nation so rich in material goods feel so poor? Is there any crime here?
And that, in a self-serving segue, is the question I set for Lydia Calligan to explore in a series of stories -- mysteries? -- the first of which, "Fulfillment City," is available now. A second installment, all about the worlds of private equity and biotech, is soon to appear in a pandering email near you. But the question I think is legitimate: is there a crime here -- because people feel so badly ripped off? What is the engine driving this world seemingly off the edge of a cliff? Stay tuned to find out if Lydia can unravel any of it, or if she will be the one who becomes unraveled ...
