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While we still don’t know the identity of the gunman who fatally shot UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson in New York City on Wednesday, a few telling details have emerged in recent days. One, his bullet casings bore the words deny, defend, and depose, in an assumed reference to some major health-insurance companies’ most common cost-saving tactics; two, he rode away from the scene of the crime on a Citi Bike; three, he visited a Starbucks at some point before the shooting; and four, he flirted with the receptionist at his Upper West Side hostel while checking in—improbably inspiring a torrent of internet thirst.
Of course, there is a long history of (usually male) murderers gaining a kind of cult status for their looks, from the Menendez brothers to Ted Bundy and Aaron Hernandez. And while the Ryan Murphy Televisual Complex has done plenty to advance this agenda, casting the notably handsome Nicholas Alexander Chavez and Cooper Koch as the Menendezes and Evan Peters as serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer in his various productions, blame for the ghoulish glamorization of dangerous criminals doesn’t lay entirely with the Netflix mega-producer. After all, no less a teen idol than Zac Efron was tapped to portray Ted Bundy in Joe Berlinger’s 2019 film Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile, and even the Night Stalker—a.k.a. Richard Ramirez, one of the most prolific and violent serial killers in American history—has attracted more than his fair share of fangirls. Another less extreme but no less notable example? So-called hot felon Jeremy Meeks, who—following his arrest on weapon charges in Stockton, Califonia, in 2014—quickly went viral for his mug shot. (Following his release from prison in 2016, Meeks would even walk the runway for Philipp Plein and Tommy Hilfiger.)
The objectification of men who have committed heinous crimes feels in some way related to the towering power of true-crime podcasts—a genre overwhelmingly popular with women—which has been praised for exposing injustices and engendering sympathy for both victims and offenders (even as it’s criticized for retraumatizing survivors of violent crimes). All the same, while the American criminal-justice system could certainly benefit from more empathy (and regular human decency), all that objectifying an at-large assassin is really doing is distracting us from engaging in good faith with why a murder like Brian Thompson’s was committed in the first place—and how we can begin to solve the pernicious problems that plague our society without the use of violence.
