True Crime Social Media Content: Fast Food or Artisanal Snack?

The work we do at F.A.C.E.S. includes tracking media trends that relate to true crime. A recent article in The Irish Times about an upcoming Netflix release caught our attention. In discussing true crime documentaries, the writer and creator of Black Mirror, Charlie Brooker, noted: “True crime docs are like a gourmet burger…You’re still eating something full of fat and salt, but because it’s called an artisan burger, you almost feel good about yourself rather than like a horrible pig.”[1] This quote got us thinking: with so much online re-traumatization, exploitation and abuse of crime victims whose stories are told without consent for profit, can the same be said for some social media true crime content?

At first glance, some social media true crime is like a greasy drive-thru meal. Content can be bite-sized, sensationalized to look enticing, and churned out at breakneck speed. Just one post on X may summarize a complicated, decades-old cold case in 280 characters or less. Another video on TikTok or a YouTube “short” might feature a creator’s breathless recap of a complex murder case in 60 seconds, set to dramatic music and jump-cut edits. The production value is low, the fast facts are usually incomplete or inaccurate, and the tone and word choice often enter exploitative territory, as creators harvest real life cases for clout, clicks and views. Watching without much thought about the ethics or impact of this content, it’s easy to feel like you’re scarfing down a cheap but somewhat satisfying bite, until a little while later. Just like consuming a greasy drive-thru meal, once you start to fully digest what you’ve just consumed, you start to feel uncomfortable-perhaps even sick- with a profound awareness of a lack of substance and quality.

However, there is an artisan burger element in social media true crime content that can make unethical true crime seem perfectly acceptable. Social media true crime content frequently markets itself as helping to seek truth or justice for victims, with creators claiming to be “all about the victims.” Some creators claim themselves as amateur sleuths, essentially inviting followers to try and solve the case with them during endless livestreams that feature a skillet of activities. For example, one may be served reviews of autopsy reports and court documents containing highly sensitive material that may or may not be redacted; examinations of the interior layouts of victims’ homes in active, unsolved cases (relying on old Zillow real estate listings); or the use of photo editing software to unblur a search and rescue video to try and uncover an intentionally blurred underwater image of a 16-year-old drowning victim. Add a “credible” creator into the mix, like former law enforcement, a PhD, an attorney, etc.- and voila! What one is consuming doesn’t seem so bad; after all, if someone with real world or professional degrees and experience appears online discussing such details, it helps elevate what we are consuming and helps make the unethical content much more palatable. Additionally, the participatory activist angle, asking viewers to watch, like, comment and share, to help “raise awareness”-can offer viewers an illusion of purpose. One is not merely scrolling through a salacious, sensationalized story, but instead one may believe they are part of an authentic digital manhunt experience, a vigilante for justice. Such a spin can make the most repulsive of unethical behaviors in true crime online seem much more digestible.

Additionally, social media true crime frequently adds an artisan-like D-I-Y aesthetic. For example, creators may add something to give themselves and their content a gimmick to entice and endear audiences, and distract from the unethical reality of their actions, content and perhaps even who they are in real life, as opposed to the online character-creator presented via a parasocial relationship with their audience. Classic features include the addition of a new pet- like a cute puppy or perhaps something unusual-like a monkey, a funny, repetitious soundbite, a clever signature phrase, or a singing object. Like a hand-painted D-I-Y sign on a food truck serving up greasy fast food, these distracting elements add a layer of charm that can make even the most unethical online true crime content creator feel relatable while simultaneously making consumption of their content feel good in the moment. Naturally, it can be easy to get caught up in a charming online illusion and keep filling one’s digital media feed and mind with exploitative, unethical content that harms the crime victims at the heart of the stories.

Some social media true crime content also mimics the intellectual veneer of a documentary. For instance, X threads, TikTok and YouTube unethical content frequently includes unsupported allegations, rumor and gossip, while linking to court documents or news articles, and/or encouraging followers to “do their own research.”  Some break down forensic evidence with the gravitas of a highly skilled CSI expert, even though they have absolutely no education or experience in forensics and their sources are dubious. This veneer of rigor lets users feel like they’re engaging with something meaningful, not just doomscrolling through sensationalized real-life tragedy that may re-traumatize real crime victims and their loved ones.

Whether it’s a Netflix documentary or online social media content, the appeal of true crime on any platform stems from the same ingredients: suspense, emotional appeal, moral outrage, and the thrill of peering into the abyss. Both formats can easily let us indulge in humanity’s darkest impulses while offering a way to rationalize the behavior. Documentaries often do so with more polished storytelling, factual and legal oversight, and ethical framing; social media does it with immediacy and interactivity. But in both cases, the “artisan” label- whether in high production value or in a promise of citizen sleuthing- helps consumers stomach the guilt of our fascination and justify our consumption of content that may be causing real harm to the real-life victims at the center of the stories.

While produced documentaries like those on Netflix and social media true crime content can be unethical, re-traumatize and harm victims, it appears that some social media true crime content creators operate with seemingly no self-restraint; an overwhelming ignorance or apathy on the part of its consumers fuels this continued unethical storytelling, causing harm to crime victims. While true crime documentaries are curated experiences, social media true crime is like the Wild West, the last frontier where anything goes, including harmful content that thrives on exploiting a vulnerable segment of the population. It is ironic that a community of followers who often claim to seek justice for victims blindly accept the re-victimization that occurs due to unethical true crime content.

In social media generally, misinformation spreads faster than facts and the line between awareness and exploitation often blurs. A documentary might take months to produce, with fact-checking and legal oversight; a viral, unethical true crime post can be whipped up, unchecked and set loose in mere minutes, often amplifying rumors, exploiting real crime cases, and harming the real people involved. At the end of the day, if we want to make social media true crime a respected, victim-centered community and a helpful resource and safe space for the victims whose stories are told, we need to start paying more attention to what we are consuming. The artisan burger of social media true crime might taste good going down, but it’s going to leave you feeling queasy and sick in the future, once you realize exactly what you’ve consumed.

[1] Power, Ed. Netflix Applying Its Binge-Watch Formula to Jason Corbett’s Killing is Not a Surprise, The Irish Times. Apr. 18, 2025.