One of the most popular recent podcasts is “Serial,” downloaded around 100 million times. In the first season, the show’s narrator, Sarah Koenig, told the story of the 1999 murder of a teenage girl, Hae Min Lee.

The podcast focused on Adnan Syed, Lee’s ex-boyfriend, who was convicted of this murder due in large part to the testimony of his (former) friend, Jay. In addition to its popularity, “Serial” won a Peabody Award for its exposition of the “flaws in the justice system.”

As can be expected of anything popular, “Serial” has faced a small backlash. The accusations range from withholding evidence and shoddy journalism to issues of race and white privilege.

To overstate things just a bit, Adnan becomes a sympathetic character due in large part to the fact that we hear recorded interviews with him. He gets a voice to defend himself.

And while Koenig does present evidence against him, Adnan is the center of the story. It is fundamentally more about him than the objective presentation of facts in the case.

In some ways, it makes sense to make him more relatable to balance out the fact that he was convicted. To immerse yourself in the story, you need to be able to see him as a person convicted of murder, not a murderer.

This method could pose problems as “Serial” moves into its second season, however, because the show is focusing on Bowe Bergdahl, the soldier who was brought back to the US in 2014 after being held by the Taliban for five years.

Only a few episodes are out, so the stage is still being set for the big question: Is Bergdahl a traitor? This is not just a question for “Serial,” but also for the US Army, as Bergdahl will be undergoing court-martial; the most serious charge against him carries a sentence of life imprisonment.

This is important to note because post-conviction proceedings are now being pursued in Adnan’s case because of evidence aired on the first season of “Serial.” This time, however, “Serial” has the ability to influence the outcome or perception of a future trial, not reopen an old case.

Framing Bergdahl’s narrative in the same way as Adnan’s may be problematic. Bergdahl has not been convicted so the overstatement of his relatability is not necessary to balance the scales.

The first two episodes have portrayed him in a highly sympathetic light. When you hear him say, “I want to go home” in the show’s theme song, it is pretty moving.

In the first episode, Koenig talks about his preliminary hearing in which the general conducting the investigation recommended less severe charges, and she even says that it is unlikely he will face life in prison.

“Serial” portrays him as a kid who messed up. This is not objective journalism. It is building a case for Bergdahl even as Army prosecutors build a case against him.

But we are still early in the season. As the first season progressed, Koenig increasingly went against the grain of Adnan’s story. In this season, it is even more important for her to do so.

She has already interviewed soldiers from Bergdahl’s unit as well as Taliban fighters. She mentions a small discrepancy in the second episode and alludes to others that will become apparent throughout the story. So there is still plenty of time for the story to tip back into balance, but it has to be done soon.

Because of “Serial’s” popularity, it’s safe to assume more people are listening to this season’s episodes as they come out, rather than multiple episodes in a row.

The longer we sit with the sympathetic, silly kid persona of Bergdahl, the more that will become the ingrained popular perception.

It’s easy to get swept up in a well-crafted story, and I for one was not aware of the criticisms of “Serial’s” approach to its subjects before I started writing this.

But as the first season has shown, “Serial” is a cultural force that can have significant effects for the people involved.

Given the national significance of Bergdahl’s case and his court-martial, however, “Serial” has to make sure that it tells the full story, not just Bergdahl’s side of the story.

From acculturated.com