New Documentary ‘Predators’ Examines When The Comfort Of Moral Certainty Is Televised
(REVIEW) What does it mean when we finds moral clarity from not just punishing criminals, but making it a spectacle? When the most reviled offenders are exposed and humiliated in public view, few feel compelled to object. After all, who would defend a child sex predator?
Yet “Predators,” a new documentary streaming on Paramount+ examining the legacy of NBC’s “To Catch a Predator,” insists on asking an uncomfortable question: When justice becomes entertainment, what does that say about crime, morality and society?
“To Catch a Predator” operated on a premise that felt unimpeachable. Adults looking for sex with minors were lured to a house, confronted on camera and arrested shortly thereafter. The format offered certainty in a moral landscape that often felt murky. These were not ambiguous crimes or sympathetic figures. They were men preying on who they thought were teenage boys and girls. Viewers could watch without guilt, confident that outrage was the correct response.
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This new 90-minute documentary doesn’t argue against that moral judgment. It does not ask us to feel sympathy for those caught in the stings. Instead, it shifts the focus away from the perpetrators and toward the process itself. It asks whether the unquestioned righteousness it all — masked as journalism — allowed society to stop questioning the method. When the enemy is absolute, scrutiny feels unnecessary. That, the documentary argues, is exactly the danger here.
The TV series that aired in the early 2000s, hosted by investigative journalist Chris Hansen, thrived on a particular kind of satisfaction: Seeing evil exposed. The confrontation — Hansen emerging with transcripts in hand, the suspect stammering excuses and multiple cameras rolling the entire time — was ritualistic.
Walt Weiss, a now-retired Texas detective, was interviewed in the documentary. He looked back on the show with disdain.
“They were running a TV show. It looked more and more like someone was being given carte blanche to come in and direct operations in the police department,” he said, adding that “I role I played in it, that’s a stain on my soul that I’m going to live with.”
It was not merely about preventing harm, but revealing hidden rot on the then-nascent internet. Viewers were invited to witness the moment when someone’s private depravity became public truth. Justice, here, was inseparable from humiliation. There was, as the documentary often says, no answer as to why someone would want to commit such a crime.
This is where “Predators” complicates the narrative. When police and prosecutors work with a news organization and arrests are staged for maximum drama, the line between justice and entertainment becomes blurred. The show was not simply documenting crime; it was shaping it, constructing scenarios designed to deliver a particular emotional payoff. That payoff, in the form of moral certainty, lacked all empathy.
What does this say about morality and society? It suggests that modern moral engagement is often reactive rather than reflective. We are less interested in understanding the roots of crime than in witnessing its punishment. The spectacle reassures us that evil is identifiable, containable and external. It allows viewers to locate morality safely outside themselves. It allows the viewers to affirm their own righteousness. Yet “Predators” asks us to consider all of it.
This is nothing new. The Romans publicly executed Christians — turning the entire thing into sport for the masses — by feeding them to wild animals to the delight of screaming crowds. Nothing much has changed, although technology today allows for larger audiences and for it to live on forever on the internet.
In addition, the documentary deals with a crime that many religious institutions, specifically the Catholic Church, have had to deal with for decades. While the years of cover-ups and failure to deal with pedophile priests is something that still haunts the church, for those who are victims of clergy sex abuse may find solace in knowing the men busted on the NBC program will pay a price.
In fact, “To Catch a Predator” helped popularize a model of public shaming that has since expanded far beyond its original target. These days, exposure is often treated as justice itself. Social media outrage, doxxing and viral accusations all echo this same logic.
If someone deserves condemnation, the method of delivering it need not be restrained. “Predators” implies that the original show did not merely reflect this impulse — it helped normalize it. Hansen, however, does believe he possesses the moral fortitude to catch predators and turn it into a true-crime reality show.
“If that’s my legacy, very comfortable,” he said.
Ultimately, “Predators” argues that crime and morality cannot be separated, particularly the desire to see evil punished publicly. The documentary, which features a twist at the end, forces us to confront the possibility that our hunger for justice is sometimes inseparable from spectacle.
Clemente Lisi is executive editor at Religion Unplugged.