The New Age Of Morbid Curiosity
The allure of discussing horror, gore and crime cases in digital space forums has soared; experts weigh in on the pros and cons
From the staged solemnity of Victorian mourning portraits to the endless scroll of crime theory videos and creepypasta horror forums, humanity’s fascination with death, danger, and the grotesque has never really gone away.
Today, in Indian digital spaces, this enduring pull manifests in unexpected places: True crime fandoms dissecting cases in Instagram comments, Discord servers trading lurid details of old cases, dark web forums discussing real gore, horror podcasts narrating unspeakable crimes, and even stylized digital memorials that romanticize loss.
The allure of morbid content is as much about psychology as it is about spectacle. Counselling psychologist Priyanshi Nautiyal explains that thrill-seeking and deeper emotional needs are not separate impulses. She says, “Youngsters who are drawn towards dark content subconsciously practice reacting to danger… The morbid content gives their anxieties regarding the world and humans a face they can confront, and successful confrontation offers immediate relaxation.”
Fiction vs Real
This ability to simulate danger without actually being in danger is key. In controlled doses, it can serve as a mental rehearsal for the worst-case scenario. Similar to why some people willingly watch horror movies or ride rollercoasters. Nautiyal says fictional horror “activates our amygdala” but is quickly rationalised by the brain, keeping a sense of safety intact. Real-life crime “engages the prefrontal cortex… and if consumed daily, can lead to anxiety and paranoia.” Online anonymity removes social filters, letting people “explore hidden curiosities” and sometimes find communities that “validate each other’s dysfunction.” The aestheticisation of distress can be cathartic in moderation, but overly frequent or extremely grim posts may signal severe trauma or dissociation from reality.
True Crime Boom
Podcasts like The Desi Crime Podcast, founded by Aishwarya Singh and Aryaan Misra, have tapped into this space — real cases, the ones buried or misrepresented in mainstream coverage. Singh says the goal is not simply to shock but to illuminate the social realities these crimes reveal. “Crimes that take place here tell a story of how South Asia views love, how it views money, parental relationships, sexual assault, how we view women… The only way to highlight those attitudes and possibly change them over time is to openly talk about stories that go hidden under the surface.”
While true crime has long been a global entertainment genre, Singh notes that in India, its audience skews younger, not because older generations lack interest, but because podcasting itself is a younger medium. When the podcast covered the Nirbhaya case, Singh chose to be graphically descriptive: “Most people don’t know the brutality of the case. The documentary was banned. The news didn’t mention it… so that was the purpose of sharing that information.”
Algorithms & Attention Economies
Digital platforms are not neutral distributors, they are curators that reward engagement, and in this economy, sensationalism often wins. Aaditi Paandey, a forensic mental health research student and avid consumer of true crime podcasts and stories, points out how algorithms can resurface decades-old cases: “The Nithari 2006 case became a topic of conversation again after almost 18 years when the movie Sector 36 came out in 2024. It was the first time a lot of the younger generation was hearing about the case.”
The attention economy thrives on the extreme. The more gripping or emotionally charged the content, the more it’s pushed into feeds. Nautiyal warns that such escalation “increases the baseline level of shock and excitement” and can reduce empathy over time. For vulnerable individuals, it risks triggering paranoia, dissociation, and depression.
History Written in Shadows
Far from being a modern quirk, our fascination with the macabre is threaded through cultural history. Humans have forever been fascinated by paranormal activity, witchcraft, black magic, etc. From medieval witch trials to colonial-era mourning photography, from ancient epics filled with bloody battles to ritualized death practices, societies have long used stories of violence and death to explain the inexplicable, enforce moral codes, or simply entertain.
Nautiyal frames it as a coping mechanism, “Curiosity about threats has helped individuals collectively build survival strategies… These notions are perpetuated through lore and epics, passed down to fight grief, fear, and darkness through moral lessons and rituals.”
Catharsis or Contagion
The effects of consuming such content are not universally harmful, nor universally beneficial. Paandey notes that it can offer catharsis, allowing people to “process their thoughts in a controlled environment,” and sometimes even foster empathy. Singh admits to finding true crime content relaxing, “We’re able to vicariously live through someone else’s horrid experience that we relate to, but in a safe environment where we’re in our bed, under a blanket.”
However, both creators and psychologists stress the risks of glamorization. There have been documented cases of people emulating crimes they’ve seen dramatised—Canadian killer Mark Twitchell reportedly drew inspiration from the TV show Dexter. On the flip side, digital communities have also enabled interventions, as in the Menhaz Zaman case, where Discord peers alerted authorities after he posted about murdering his family.
Responsible Storytellers
How morbid stories are told matters as much as the stories themselves. Singh emphasises a victim-first approach, “We make sure writing is always victim-focused. Even perpetrators are not ridiculed or caricatured… There is empathy across the board.”
For Nautiyal, creators should go further, embedding content warnings and context into their work, “Including rational explanations, social context, and humanising the characters will maintain the psychological well-being of viewers even while watching grim content.”
One persistent misconception is that digital culture has creat-ed morbid curiosity. Singh argues that people have always been fascinated by the macabre. “It’s just that now we have more access because it’s all out in the open on the internet.”
The Digital Gothic
In a hyperconnected, hyper-uncertain age, morbid curiosity offers both a mirror to our fears and a playground for confronting them. Whether these encounters leave us more empathetic or numb depends on how thoughtfully they are navigated by creators, platforms, and audiences alike. The shadows have always been there. Digital screens have simply lit them up in high definition.