Society has always been obsessed with true crime. From Victorian-era newspapers to the rise of television and radio, crime stories have long captured the public’s attention. In the age of TikTok trials and Netflix documentaries, the way these cases have been consumed has immensely changed. Today, you can scroll mindlessly on TikTok and believe you have learned an entire murder case without ever following the case itself.
One recent example is the highly publicized Lindsay Clancy trial. Clancy is currently on trial and charged with murdering her three children, in their Duxbury, Mass. home on Jan. 24, 2023.
Clancy pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity, with her defense arguing that she was suffering from postpartum psychosis.
Eleven jurors found Clancy not guilty, but one juror did. This deadlock resulted in a mistrial, leaving the case unresolved.?
As someone who is interested in the field of law, I find myself watching and researching various true crime cases to better understand society and the court process. Yet when looking at these cases, it’s easy to come across misinformation, draw your own theories and form strong opinions. This cycle shows the parasocial relationship viewers have with true crime.
There is nothing inherently wrong with following a public trial and forming your own opinions. The problem begins when viewers directly involve themselves in the case, and believe that following the trial makes them detectives, medical professionals and members of the jury.
I’ve noticed this a lot when following the online discourse surrounding Lindsay Clancy. At first, it began with people sympathizing with Clancy. Many users, especially mothers, shared their own experiences with postpartum psychosis and advocated for more postpartum support.
Then, media coverage turned into people becoming “detectives” and creating conspiracies. Many people, acting as if they personally knew the family, accused husband Patrick Clancy of the murders.
Eventually, the case became a form of entertainment. People photoshopped increasingly large bows on one of the prosecutors, created AI mockery of the court, poked fun at the prosecutors’ appearance and even made thirst traps and best moment edits of Clancy’s attorney.
Others have left insensitive TikTok comments, started betting the outcome of the trial on Polymarket and even turned this case into a gendered debate about accountability. While it is okay to critique both sides of a public trial, these discussions make the case seem more like a sitcom rather than reality.
After the trial resulted in an 11-1 deadlock, people on the internet began doxxing the holdout juror, Michael Desronvi. It was reported by Desronvil’s attorney that he had his address and phone number doxxed and received death threats.
This not only shows how extreme parasocial behavior can become, but also raises questions about whether there was a racial component to his treatment. Desronvil was the sole Black juror, while the most vocal Clancy supporters appeared to be white women.
Whether you agree with the juror or not, jurors should be protected while completing their civic duty. Doxxing a juror can make that person and future jurors afraid to express their honest opinions, defeating the whole purpose of deliberations.
While TikTok and social media can be a great tool- especially to expose flaws in the justice system- it can quickly turn toxic. The way people have consumed this tragedy has completely taken all the attention away from the victims, three children who will never get their lives back.
These cases, including Clancy’s, are not shows, and the people involved are not characters. We must ask ourselves if we are still seeking justice or simply seeking entertainment.
