I was still in diapers when Chris Hansen’s “To Catch a Predator”started as a segment of Dateline NBC in 2004. Yet I feel like I’ve had some level of familiarity with Hansen’s show for years. Maybe that’s due to a near-constant circulation of clips from the original series on the internet—or the growing number of copycat vigilantes who continue the show’s limited view of justice through the lens of an iPhone camera.
In the show, willing adults pretended to be underage children online, having conversations with disturbed individuals for weeks at a time in the hope of luring those individuals to a house where a decoy actor playing the child would let them inside and help them get comfortable. Then, the show’s hidden crew would spring a life-ruining trap: Hansen would emerge holding a paper copy of all the explicit messages that the predator sent to the “minor.” The predator was caught.
On paper, all of this seems good, right?
Hansen now has his own streaming network, TruBlu, where he continues to find and expose would-be child predators. Even though the show that started it all ended in 2007, it seems our culture is still fascinated with the work Hansen and his crew have been doing for over 20 years.
Now, the goal of this article is not to tell you as the reader how you should feel about Hansen as a person or the work that he did. But with the series’ sustained popularity—as well as the release of Primetime, a fictionalized film adaptation of the rise and fall of To Catch a Predator (you can read our review for the film here)—it feels like the perfect time to sift through the ethics of the series through a Christian lens.
Hardly a “Feel Good” Show
The appeal of To Catch a Predator is evident: Audiences yearn for something that feels real, especially when the subject matter could be considered taboo or risqué. The series provided viewers with a chance to see people with terrible intentions get what they deserve—or at least, that’s how it was marketed.
In the years after the show’s cancellation, clips surfaced online of the full conversations that Chris had with the predators—including bits that didn’t make it to TV. Some of these clips show the would-be predators breaking down, begging for forgiveness, admitting the need for therapy, even asking Chris if their jail time might include the ability to talk to a professional who could help them with their issues. But those bits were ultimately cut—simply because the entire show was predicated on its audience believing that these men were nothing more than the terrible sins that they let consume them. To Catch a Predator falls apart if you see these people as vulnerable humans.
Of course, apologizing and admitting the need for help only once they were caught doesn’t make up for the fact that these men committed a crime and intended to harm vulnerable children. In many cases, Hansen’s work put these men behind bars for their crimes. However, while that could certainly be seen as a victory, the fact that all of this was done in the name of entertainment raises some uncomfortable questions.
While it is unclear how much of Primetime is fictionalized, multiple scenes in the film revolve around Hansen’s crew handpicking the would-be abusers that would be “caught” on the show. They’d choose the ones with the lewdest conversations, as the explicit nature of those chats would make for better TV. The reasoning was that if fans of the show had already seen a season’s worth of predators throwing out the same disturbing lines, those fans would want something more to stay invested. Something darker, something more depraved.
Considering the show was filmed at a time when ratings meant everything, it’s not out of the question that the selection of predators Hansen would pursue would be based more off shock value than the need to simply expose a criminal. As such, it would almost seem as though any amount of justice the show served was a result of the need to get good ratings, rather than a sense of nobility.
Entertainment, or Absolution?
As interesting as it is to delve into the ethics of a series that did some good, albeit with questionable motives, you as the viewer still must decide whether Hansen’s televised investigations are worth your time.
Multiple actors who played the decoy children on the series have now publicly shared the long-standing mental struggles that they’ve dealt with since the show’s cancellation.
Primetime delves into this topic a bit as well. A character from the film named Dan Plumb is a fictionalized amalgamation created for the film from a few of those real-life decoy actors. Played by Skyler Gisondo, Dan uses his love of musicals to fuel his portrayal of a 13-year-old boy, singing over the phone to an older man that he has been conversing with. No matter how hard Dan tries to convince himself his character is just a character, real-life bits of him inevitably slip into the performance. It’s only after a predator takes his own life seconds after a phone call with Dan that Dan realizes this whole thing has gone too far. (This scene was based off a real episode of To Catch a Predator in which a man killed himself after realizing he had been caught—an episode that still aired on TV as entertainment.
This disturbing scene feels like a good allegory for viewing the series. Sure, it can feel satisfying to see criminals brought to justice. But eventually, real-life facts may start to slip into the entertainment. After binging multiple episodes (or perhaps even watching Primetime), will you start to fear what might happen to your own children? Will you feel equipped to protect them from such vile conversations as the ones read out loud on Hansen’s show? As with all media, it can feel like the barrier of a TV screen is enough to protect us from what we’re watching; however, just like the fictionalized character of Dan, by the time we realize this content is affecting us, it may already be too late.
And that, of course, is the point. It’s part of the draw. In Primetime, Chris eludes to how he initially pitched “To Catch a Predator”—using lurid language to describe the fear all parents have of their children being abused. Here’s a show that can help you prevent it, he told NBC.
To Catch a Predator wanted to draw its audience closer, to make them feel the horror, the revulsion, the fear, the anger. But is that always a good thing?
Luke 8:17 reads: “For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light.”
There is something deeply relieving about seeing criminals get caught, and while justice must be served to these individuals, the ruining (or, in one case, ending) of a life should never be celebrated. The inevitable exposure of evil is a good thing, but that doesn’t mean Christians need to consistently make their nightly TV time revolve around a dramatized version of real-life sin.
When viewing Chris’ work, ask yourself a few questions: Is this content causing me to view these sinful people as less than human? And am I truly disconnected from the horrors this series brings to light, or will the words of predators still be bouncing around my head even after the TV is off?
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