Americans are obsessed with true crime and I am no exception. I devour true crime documentaries on Netflix, and I listen to podcasts of the same genre on my daily commutes.
In a 2024 poll, YouGov, a global public opinion and data analytics firm, reported that 84 percent of the U.S. population consumes true crime media at least weekly. A significant portion of respondents reported television as their primary source of true crime entertainment. Those demographics shift with younger audiences, who overwhelmingly get their fix from podcasts. More than 70 percent of those who consume true crime content are women.
There were around 200 true crime podcasts available to audiences in 2015. That number shot into the stratosphere with Season One of Serial, investigative journalist Sarah Koenig's look into the story of convicted murderer Adnan Syed. Since then, the number of true crime podcasts across platforms has jumped over 20,000.
As I mentioned, women are by far the biggest consumers of true crime media. There are myriad reasons why women seem more fascinated with these heart-wrenching and gruesome stories. One is that we empathize with victims and survivors because we move through the world differently than men, especially white men. These victims and survivors could easily be us.
The TikTok video Women Choosing the Bear, went viral in 2024. In it, the host asked women if they’d rather be stuck in the woods with a man or a bear. Overwhelmingly, women chose the bear. I’m sure this came as no surprise to women everywhere. Bears attack for survival, like when they are hungry, or to protect their young, or when they’re under personal threat. Their agenda is clear. Men’s motives are frequently nefarious.
Also, when was the last time you heard someone victim-blame a woman who’s survived a bear attack? In the YouGov study, female respondents told researchers that their greatest fear was for their physical safety. Men reported their overriding fears as being perceived as weak and of being rejected. How differently men and women move through the world indeed. It's a privilege to go about your business without fearing for your safety.
Another form of privilege is glaring omission of stories in the true crime sphere that feature the victims and survivors of color. In 2021, the media saturated the airwaves with the Gabby Petito story, because a missing white woman garnered them higher ratings. Two months before her disappearance, a young Black geologist named Daniel Robinson disappeared while on the job in the desert near Buckeye, Arizona. His story gained some media attention because of his father’s diligence in keeping his son’s story alive, and because of its close timing to the Gabby Petito story.
This phenomenon, named by journalist Gwen Ifill, is called "Missing White Woman Syndrome." It describes the disproportionate, often sensationalized news coverage and law enforcement attention given to missing or endangered white women and girls—particularly those who are young and attractive—compared to the disappearances of men, women of color, or Indigenous people.
These disparities have real-life consequences. Greater media coverage leads to increased public awareness, more volunteer searches, and greater law enforcement resources. Five years later, Daniel Robinson’s case remains cold. His father continues to keep his case alive by pushing law enforcement for further evidence testing on his son’s clothing and vehicle, the only traces of him left in that vast Arizona desert.
The true crime genre isn’t new, but it’s more ubiquitous now than ever. While the entertainment value cannot be denied, it's important for us to examine why we’re fascinated with true crime stories. It’s also time to shift the focus, both in news and in entertainment, away from young, attractive white women to better reflect society overall. True crime shouldn't just be about solving the mysteries we find entertaining—it must be about fighting for justice for those who have long been systematically ignored.
