For Aaron Habel and Justin Evans, true crime podcasting began as a hobby. The two started recording Generation Why in 2012, after Evans served jury duty on a murder trial. When the 2014 success of Serial drove new listeners toward Generation Why, Habel and Evans knew the podcast had transformed into something more than a hobby: they were telling stories of murder and disaster knowing that the people concerned would be in the audience. It’s as if your pastime of building balsa wood airplanes somehow landed you behind the controls of a 747 full of passengers.

“We record knowing that family members of the victims may be listening,” says Habel. “We find ways to get the information to you where you understand what happened, without having every graphic detail explained. That’s really our goal: that fine line between understanding and making sure we don’t come off as exploitative.”

A woman is murdered. To understand what happened, do you need to know that she was stabbed? If a suspect’s DNA is found on a knife, perhaps so. Then, do you need to know that the victim was sectioned into parts after her death? Again, if the suspect is convicted because he owned the reciprocating saw used to do the sectioning, perhaps you do. Is it vital for the listener to know that the victim’s death was prolonged, or that, during the attack, she inexplicably began to yell, “I’m sorry”? Every time a true crime podcaster cuts an episode, he or she has to draw a line between necessary and gratuitous details.

“Are these people to be put on a pedestal? Do we list our favorite serial killers and forget the horrible things they’ve done?”

Generation Why is loose and conversational, approximating the experience of an hour-long chat with its hosts — what’s sometimes facetiously called a “friend simulator.” Shows like Generation Why eliminate the need for a godlike narrator or host — think Peter Thomas in Forensic Files — to fit everything together for the audience. Instead, Habel and Evans debate unresolved cases, clearly taking pride in an ability to admit uncertainty rather than pushing a pet theory. In a 2015 episode on the Trayvon Martin shooting, the hosts took pains to avoid any appearance of partisanship, concluding that shooter George Zimmerman was more likely wildly irresponsible than a murderer per se.

“Too often, especially in documentaries, everything focuses on the killer,” says Habel. “Are these people to be put on a pedestal? Do we list our favorite serial killers and forget the horrible things they’ve done? … To each their own, but, when it comes to us, I would like for the victims and their families to be remembered. It’s not simply, ‘Oh, wow, check out this serial killer.’”

Left to right: Justin Evans and Aaron Habel, hosts of “Generation Why. “ Photo: Instagram

There aren’t many Hannibal Lecters to be found in real life. A few weeks listening to true crime will introduce you to a seemingly endless parade of inept narcissists, would-be tough guys and men who preferred bludgeoning their ex-wives to paying child support. One detective compared conversation with the Son of Sam, David Berkowitz, to “talking to a head of lettuce in the supermarket.” Even accused Golden State Killer Joseph James DeAngelo, an overachieving murderer if there is such a thing, was known mainly as a grumpy old man who once pitched a tantrum over a botched plate of tuna salad. Habel isn’t above chortling at Richard Ramirez, a killer and rapist with an MO like that of a rabid dog, who was chased down the streets of East Los Angeles by a belligerent mob after being identified. In the end, Ramirez was forced to leap into the arms of police to save himself. The more one listens to true crime, the more one loses faith in the mystique of the serial killer.

Of course, not every podcast draws the line in the same place as Generation Why. Aussie podcast Casefile has moved from early episodes featuring eardrum-blisteringly graphic audio, sometimes accentuated by cheesy sound effects, to superbly restrained productions complete with content warnings for child or animal abuse. Rising star UK podcast They Walk Among Us is perhaps the most discreet of all, offering listeners a chance to skip over potentially upsetting sections while still catching the rest of the episode.

“People find what works for them,” says Habel. “There are movies that I watch that are PG-13, and there are movies that I watch that are unrated. That’s something that you know going in: this is going to be a bit graphic. This could get bloody. These podcasts are open about that… I’m not going to diss any other podcasts just because they do it differently, though I would say I’m not a fan of making fun of things, turning things into a joke — too much dark humor, as it were, when it relates to real cases.”