If anybody can do it, it's Dr Bikie
Talking true crime podcasts with Profs Mark Lauchs and Sean Maher
At first, I thought the idea was crazy.
Breaking into what might be the most saturated of saturated content genres.
But, then again, if anybody can do it it’s Dr Bikie.
So, what is this insurmountable task? A pair of academics making a true crime podcast that people will actually want to listen to.
True crime podcasts remain hugely popular, but fame and fortune is not the goal here. Associate Professors Mark Lauchs and Sean Maher are on a mission to connect Lauchs’ research with the biggest audience possible. And to bring some much needed innovation to what can be an otherwise tabloid and exploitative genre1.
“Why do I want to do a podcast? It’s not so much that I want to do a podcast. I want to communicate my stuff to the public.”
This raises an early but critical point. The objective should never be I want to make X, instead, I want to achieve X. The podcast for Lauchs and Maher is a means to achieving a goal. As to why this goal is important to Lauchs:
“I have this crazy idea that our job, being paid by the public, is to tell the public what we did. Academic articles are not that method. Going via a journalist is not that method because what comes out the other end of that is not my story. Ever.”
In Lauchs’ opinion, academics need to take control of their own research narrative. They shouldn’t and ultimately can’t rely on journalists or any other intermediaries to tell their story for them. In response to this reality, Maher sees podcasting as an opportunity to disintermediate the research storytelling process. Podcasts allow researchers to directly connect their research with broader audiences2. As a researcher and storytelling practitioner, Maher is most interested in what he can bring to non-fiction narrative podcasting. To “do something in that true crime podcast space, through a podcast that can innovate the form of podcasts.”
Maher outlines his vision:
“It has a structure, it is a format, it has elements that are true to this kind of very simple format that looks very simple when you hear it but, actually, if you structure and approach it and design it, could be really compelling… we’re very interested in that, how you shape that content and innovate it.”
Lauchs and Maher are driven by a purpose. They want to do something interesting.
Lauchs is skeptical of the typical academic podcast and its ability to reach audiences beyond small circles of scholars. “There’s no good putting out a podcast with wonderful academic information that no one gives a shit about and no one wants to listen to.” He continues, “I want to communicate the story.” And there’s a very good reason why Lauchs is the right person to tell this particular story:
“There are six people in the world who study outlaw motorcycle gangs, including me. I’m the only one who does qualitative research.”
Lauchs’ and Maher’s podcast will tell the story Mick Hawi and the Comanchero Motorcycle Club. And being one of only six academic experts in the entire world researching outlaw motorcycle gangs, Lauchs is clearly an authority3. Being a qualitative researcher also plays to the podcast’s advantage, at least in achieving its storytelling aim. The other five researchers’ work in this field is based on stats and police reports. While Lauchs, in stark opposition, is more interested in the people than the numbers. It is Lauchs’ view that a solely quantitative approach to studying outlaw motorcycle gangs dehumanises the characters that make up the body of research. And it is the human interest which Lauchs and Maher are keen to explore.
Lauchs critiques the landscape of Australian true crime, that is typically written by journalists. “It’s, look at these boofhead bikies bashing some people and well it’s a lot more complex than that”. Lauchs’ view is there’s no value in a story as simple as Mick Hawi “went to jail, then he got out, and then someone shot him.” The details “actually inform why he did what he did and I want that to be a part of the story as well. So I’m trying to humanise the story”. Through his own research, Lauchs endeavours to understand the complexity of outlaw motorcycle gangs and their members’ violent crimes. And through this podcast, Lauchs’ and Maher’s aim is to tell the story of why more than what.
Established routes for academic communication, such as publishing journals and monographs, exist to communicate theory and pure scholarship to academic audiences. But this is not an appropriate, or effective method to engage with non-academic audiences. In developing their podcast, the intention is to engage interested popular audiences. Audiences who consume true crime, not academic research. Audiences who would not engage with the work of scholars if it weren’t disguised as entertainment. “I want to get the story to the public”, states Lauchs, to create a podcast people will actually want to listen to. And these audiences don’t read academic publications. With a podcast, Lauchs’ intention is to take his academic research and “give it to the people who don’t give a rats arse about the references.” He can share his work with his colleagues via peer reviewed journal articles. But, returning to his philosophy of academic research as a public service, there is a wider audience Lauchs is compelled to share his knowledge with.
Lauchs believes there is an audience, beyond his peers, for his research. With a podcast, Lauchs’ intends to strike a balance between research and entertainment. Connecting his academic research with an audience who might not think they care about research. They just want to hear a good story. And the history of outlaw motorcycle gangs and their colourful cast of characters is an interesting and important story, and with the help of Maher, a podcast could prove effective in sharing Lauchs’ research with an invested public audience4.
But, and this may come as no surprise, it is easier said than done.
Offers of support are made by their institution, but Lauchs and Maher are yet to see this support materialise. Lauchs sums up his experience, trying to make creative research content with his institution, they say “We will provide you with the resources, and they’re not there. We will provide you with the expertise, and it’s not there.” And as to exactly what support is needed, Maher sums up the situation “we’re like a couple of writers and we’re needing a producer. We need a producer who project manages, who gives us deadlines, who drives it.”5. This is a recurring theme, on the one hand a lack of support. But on the other, when support is available it is the wrong kind of support. Production facilities can be booked, with the support of technical professional staff to instruct in their operation to actually record a podcast. But these kinds of projects require intimate creative collaboration. Lauchs and Maher do not possess the mental bandwidth (let alone the time and energy) to undertake the actual research; propose innovations for research translation and engagement; and then successfully produce and deliver a high quality and compelling product that effectively connects with its intended audience.
Musing a solution, Maher suggests that research centres could take the lead. For this type of creative work to achieve its aim, “It has to be embedded in existing structures. So you need a research centre, you need a DMRC [Digital Media Research Centre], you need a Design Lab that actually also commits to it.” That is, seeing the potential of creative research translation and supporting researchers to thrive in sharing their work with non-academic audiences.
Maher also raises the critical issue of acknowledgement, especially when you consider the time and energy required to pursue creative research translation without institutional support. “The reward is in traditional publishing and that is time consuming enough. So to invest the time in something that’s innovative and risky and doesn’t really pay off to our careers”, academics are unsure as to whether the effort is worth it.
For Lauchs, the solution is simple but not easy.
“Somebody’s got to recognise that somebody’s already done it and it works and it has a benefit for the university… Before that happens you’re smacking your head against the brick wall.”
One very simple way to measure an engagement’s effectiveness, and perhaps in turn encourage institutions’ acknowledgement, is in the real world value of an academic’s public profile. Lauchs is known as Dr Bikie. Australia’s leading academic authority on outlaw motorcycle gangs. But it isn’t his academic CV for which Lauchs is so well known, it is his media profile, public appearances, and industry and community engagement. Creating an original, innovative podcast that effectively shares Lauchs’ research with a large public audience is yet another way by which he can raise his profile for industry and community engagement, achieve research impact, and make a positive contribution to his institution’s reputation. Academics’ creative efforts still function as marketing for their university anyway. So, why not support them?
Academic research is supposed to result in the generation of new knowledge. But the way in which research is shared with non-academic audiences is severely limited. Researchers should be supported and resourced to share their work in creative, innovative and effective ways. Ways in which audiences actually choose to engage with content, such as true crime podcasts. Endeavours like these should be encouraged and rewarded.
With the depth of their collective knowledge, if anybody is going to innovate the form and present a genuinely original true crime podcast it is Mark Lauchs and Sean Maher.
Check this out if you’re interested in making better research videos.
No stranger to podcasts, Lauchs is the former host of New Books in Terrorism and Organized Crime (2012-2015).
And the same could be argues for other modes of creative engagement such as online video, social media posts or blog articles.
The same can’t always be said for podcast hosts.
This collaboration also represents an opportunity for transdisciplinary research. Where researchers from different fields undertake intensive collaboration to achieve a shared goal.
According to ScreenSkills, “Producers are at the financial, practical and creative heart of a film or TV drama. They are often the first to get involved, spotting the creative opportunity and commercial viability of a production. They continue as the driving force right through to distribution.” This is vastly different than the human resources typically available to support academic researchers in sharing their work. Where the legwork of production is left up to the academics themselves. Speaking with several social media managers from different institutions, they are willing and able to amplify good work created by academics. But they do not have the resources, let alone the interest and will, to support researchers in their content creation efforts. Lauchs notes this, suggesting that institutions are happy with anything academics create to share their work so long as they just go ahead and do it themselves.