There is a ritual unfolding across Italy every day: between the evening newscast and an aperitivo, between a talk show and its late-night sequel, millions of Italians tune in to stories of murder, femicide and other grisly crimes.

Nearly three in four Italians (74.3%) regularly follow television programs, podcasts or other content devoted to true crime, according to Only Numbers. The figure is too large to dismiss as a niche fascination. True crime has become a mass phenomenon, cutting across generations, social classes and political affiliations — and spreading from traditional television to podcasts and every other platform.

The motivations behind true crime’s appeal tell only part of the story. Nearly one in three Italians (29.6%) says simple curiosity draws them in, it is as old mankind, the need to understand “how could this have happened?” In many of these tragic cases, the perpetrators are the “good kids” next door: the people who date our children, whom we pass on the street every day. By understanding how a crime unfolded, the motive, the circumstances, the deviance, we may unconsciously reassure ourselves that it could never happen to “us,” because “we” are not like that.

Then there are those fascinated by the investigative and judicial process (17.9%), by how evidence is built, an alibi dismantled and a judicial truth reached or not reached. For 42.8% of people surveyed, true crime shows are simply the trend of the moment, one that can nonetheless become addictive and transform us. These are understandable motivations, almost reassuring in their rationality.

Yet the most unsettling explanation is not one people openly acknowledge. It emerges from the way television itself is programmed. True crime does not simply respond to demand; it creates it. Programs devoted to these cases occupy ever-larger blocks of airtime, turning crime into entertainment, recurring formats with their own drama, familiar cast of characters and carefully paced narratives.

The goal is no longer simply to report crime, but to turn someone else’s suffering into a serialized product. True crime programs fill television schedules virtually around the clock: audiences watch, ratings rise, and higher ratings bring more programs — creating a cycle that feeds itself.

It is a vicious cycle: the case that draws viewers gets more coverage, and the coverage itself drives more attention. Soon, the same crimes are covered and re-covered, dissected with an insistence that in some cases has little to do with journalism and much to do with voyeurism, until two or three cases dominate public debate — often at the expense of everything else.

The paradox is that the same citizens who fuel this cycle with their attention are acutely aware of its side effects. Nearly one in two Italians (46.3%) believes these programs fuel and amplify a sense of insecurity that is already widespread - a perception that, as objective crime and safety data show, often goes well beyond reality.

At times, it almost seems as though they form distinct thematic trends - cases that, for a period of time, multiply across the media agenda. Think of children attacked by dogs, or murders committed with the same, eerily identical methods, as though they were the result of a wave of imitation rather than an actual statistical increase in the phenomenon

More strikingly, 41.0% of the people surveyed see a direct overlap between these programs and the justice system. The perception that television coverage does more than report on trials—that it can influence, anticipate, or even shape their course, underscores a broader mistrust of the increasingly blurred line between the media and the judiciary.

True crime is therefore more than a passing television trend. It is a mirror of the country, revealing who we are and who we are becoming.

The most telling finding may be the last: 56.2% of those surveyed believe the success of these programs reflects not a whim of the audience or a passing television fad, but the unresolved problems of Italian society.

At its core is a clash between perceived and actual security, between justice and trust in the institutions responsible for delivering it. Social inequality, too, often lies in the background of the cases being covered. And then there is our relationship with death — something modern life has largely pushed out of everyday experience, only to have it return through the screen in the form of crime stories.

We are a society that needs to look at what it fears, almost as a way of exorcising it, yet risks becoming trapped by that fear. We demand truth and justice, yet risk settling for their sensationalized versions. We seek security, yet end up feeding the very fear we say we want to overcome.

This is not a naive audience, nor one unaware that it is being drawn into a particular mechanism. It knows what it is consuming and keeps watching anyway. That is not ignorance, but a form of conscious collective dependence — far more troubling than simple misinformation.

The real case to investigate is no longer - or not only - the one unfolding in prime time. It is us, as Italian citizens: why, day after day, we keep watching.