The Curious Case of Humanity's Obsession With Murder

There is something I need explained to me.

Why is everyone so obsessed with murder?

Not committing it, mind you. Just listening to it.

My son drives to Melbourne for work, which is a fair hike from Geelong. You'd think he'd fill the journey with music, comedy, or perhaps something educational about history, science or how to become a millionaire.

No. He listens to podcasts about serial killers. For two hours. One there. One back. Voluntarily. Apparently, this is normal.

In fact, judging by the popularity of true crime, it is more than normal. It is practically a national pastime. Millions of perfectly respectable people spend their evenings listening to detailed accounts of dismemberment while folding laundry.

If someone had suggested this twenty years ago, we'd have staged an intervention. Now it's entertainment.

You can barely open a streaming service without being offered a choice between "The Killer Next Door," "The Killer Across The Road," "The Killer's Cousin's Neighbor," and "The Killer Who Liked Gardening."

Everyone seems fascinated.

Meanwhile, I spend the entire time wondering why anyone would voluntarily fill their head with stories that ensure every strange noise in the house after dark sounds like the beginning of an investigation documentary.

Perhaps that's what I don't understand.

Life already provides plenty of things to worry about. Bills. Money. Trump destroying the world. Aging. Technology. The possibility of accidentally sending a text to the wrong person. Yet millions of people willingly add "grisly murder details" to the pile.

And they love it. They discuss cases over coffee. They binge-watch documentaries. They know the names of killers I've never heard of! And I've heard of some; watched television; the odd doco. But some of them can recite timelines, evidence, suspects and court proceedings with the enthusiasm usually reserved for football statistics.

It's extraordinary.

Society has somehow normalised being casually immersed in the darkest corners of humanity.

Maybe it's because we like mysteries. Maybe it's because we want to understand evil. Maybe it's because our brains enjoy solving puzzles. Or maybe we're all just a little bit weird.

Whatever the reason, I remain baffled.

I'll stick to music on long drives. My son can keep his serial killers.

Although if he suddenly starts taking notes, I may have questions…