As a kid, my family would make fun of me for shielding my eyes during relatively gruesome scenes in the television show, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. Flash forward a decade (give or take) and I routinely fill long drives blowing through episodes of the true crime podcast, Crime Junkie. The rise of true crime's prevalence in daily life isn't exclusive to me, but rather, has exploded into the daily lives of millions of people around the world.

     However, one day, while scrolling through Twitter, I saw someone mention their belief that true crime podcasts were exploitative. I stopped, having not pondered the idea before. Were the podcasts (or documentaries, movies, television shows) I had been consuming for years been exploiting the victims and their families?

     Considered the first true crime podcast, Serial has had its fair share of controversy. In the first season of the podcast, host Sarah Koenig interviews numerous people tied to the murder case of Hae Min Lee in an effort to determine the guilt or innocence of the person convicted for her murder, Adnan Syed. Among accusations of racism, bad reporting, and other things, people often pointed out that Lee's family didn't want anything to do with the podcast.   

     Is this proof that true crime podcasts are exploitative? Yes and no. Every family reacts to grief differently, and it's reasonable to understand why a family who's daughter was brutally murdered in high school and had to undergo a traumatic judicial process wouldn't want to relive those memories.

     Along with issues of consent lies the fact that cases of minorities are often passed over for cases that feed our "obsession with dead girl dramas." But crime doesn't happen exclusively to young women, which many crime podcasts might lead you to believe. The stories of people of color, LGBT+ people, and other minority groups are often absent from the roster of many true crime podcasts.

     I might be partial, but this is one the traits I find in Crime Junkie that keeps me coming back episode after episode. The host, Ashley Flowers, and co-host, Britt, routinely look at unsolved and missing persons cases. More often than not, the episode ends with a call to action, references to resources where listeners can read more about the cases, and links to tip lines to report a tip on the case. In an episode from earlier this year, the podcast covered the mysterious death of Kendrick Johnson, and ended the episode urging people and Johnson's family to not give up on the fight for answers.

     But Crime Junkie aside, the need to find respectable, non-exploitative podcasts is clear. And fortunately, podcasters and listeners alike appear to be demanding more from the true crime community. Crimereads.com even put together an article listing off some podcasts they thought were "done right."

      It's hard to definitively say true crime podcasts are inherently exploitative. When consent of the victim's family and close attention is paid to the way in which race, gender, sexuality, etc. plays into the story, true crime podcasts can effectively and respectfully tell the stories of these tragedies.

     Considering the dramatic rise in popularity of podcasts and especially the true crime genre, I don't see debates over this issue going away anytime soon. However, listeners demanding a more respectful approach to these gruesome, traumatic topics can benefit listener, creator, and the families of the victims alike.