As the digital era came into its own in the early 2000s, a blurring of the lines between entertainment, news, and law enforcement created a new media genre.
Chris Hansen pioneered the idea of predator catching on the NBC news program, “Dateline,” for a segment that would later become its own show, called “To Catch a Predator.” His team lured alleged sexual predators, at first using young actors as decoys, then exposing them on national television.
With a cool and collected entrance Chris Hansen would walk into a kitchen or living room and confront a ‘predator.” In the process, he created a bona fide cultural phenomenon.
Digital vigilantes
Decades later, “To Catch a Predator” and Hansen’s own history are being rehashed in movie theaters with the release of “Primetime,” starring Robert Pattinson as Hansen. The movie is a dramatization of events leading up to the incident that basically ended the popular show. That was the suicide and subsequent lawsuit by the family of one of Hansen’s targets.
Louis William Conradt Jr. was an assistant district attorney in the Dallas-Fort Worth area who killed himself as Hansen’s team and police descended on his house. It was a strange twist on the normal formula of the show when they went to his house after he didn’t show up at the show’s bait house. The incident has long been debated in terms of both ethical and journalistic guidelines.
20 years later, the complicated legacy of “To Catch a Predator” is also being played out by the actions of young content creators who have fashioned themselves as predator hunters after the original.
Austin McComas is one of the three main figures of Cleveland Predator Patrol, a group that began operating in Northeast Ohio in March, using a crude version of Hansen’s method to catch alleged sexual predators.
“Excuse me everybody, this guy came to meet a 15 year old girl…” shouted McComas in a crowded restaurant in Parma as the group surprised a man named Bryan who had allegedly driven from Toledo to meet an underage teen in June. What happened next in that video and the others they share to social media ranges from public humiliation to physical assault.
On the hunt
Everyone in the group had their own reasons for joining. For the 26-year-old McComas, he says he was sexually abused as a child.
“What happened to me was done by two of my brothers. So, you know, having the closest people to you do things like that to you. You grow up with no trust for humans.” McComas said.
Through the spring and summer, the popularity of McComas, along with Kevin Fisher and Zac Hunley, who both also have personal motivations for “predator catching” rapidly grew on Facebook and other social platforms.
As the group’s videos on social media gained popularity, so did the personalities within the group, especially the flamboyant McComas, who became the face and voice of the group. While they insisted their motivations were purely justice-based, they did venture into revenue generation, even creating merchandise with McComas’ catch phrase, “Excuse me everybody…”
Things got stranger still, when fans interrupted an attempted catch at an Elyria Walmart in July, after the group went live on Facebook en route to the catch giving away the location. It illustrates where they depart from Hansen’s methodology.
That surreal scene is only one of the possible outcomes when digital vigilantes go hunting.
A catch in August resulted in a physical altercation where a man was dragged out of a restaurant in Brooklyn. The three members of Cleveland Predator Patrol were charged with misdemeanors in that incident. Another catch a week later in Olmsted Falls resulted in felony charges, again not for the target, but for the group themselves.
“No matter what we do not condone violence That is not our mission. If the child predator goes to jail and something happens to them in there. Hey, it's not on us,” McComas said.
In a still darker turn of events, that mirrored the downfall of “To Catch a Predator,” a Richville man whom they confronted, died by suicide less than a week later in early August. Though they would later be more circumspect about the implications, when initially asked about the death, they responded with laughter. The group also shared the obituary of the man on their Facebook page with an unmistakably triumphant tone.
Truth and consequence
As charges in more jurisdictions piled on, the group disbanded officially in September, under the weight of legal bills and infighting among Hunley, Fisher and McComas. The charges are still being resolved, with the group hoping to avoid jail time for the felonies. Fisher and Hunley have sworn off any further work with McComas but would like to eventually return to catching.
There is a federal task force charged with catching internet predators who victimize children. Internet Crimes Against Children (ICAC) says the actions of digital vigilantes like Cleveland Predator Patrol are understandable, but not helpful.
David Frattare is the chief of ICAC in Ohio.
“I take offense to the idea that these guys are catching people. I mean I get what they're trying to do,” said David Frattare, the chief of ICAC in Ohio.
“All this is really doing is making our job harder.”
As for Chris Hansen, Cleveland Predator Patrol acknowledges him as their “O.G.,” even posting about him on Facebook. He says he has mixed feelings about what groups like Cleveland Predator Patrol are doing. And there are many groups like them out there.
“I don't want to be a guy who criticizes across the board each and every one of these people. And I understand that I started this. You can't have people beating folks up,” Hansen said.
Hansen now produces a new show for TruBlu Studios, based in Strongsville. But unlike the early days, all conversations that lead to a confrontation are handled by law enforcement, preserving their ability to make prosecutions and convictions. It’s something police are virtually never able to do with catches by Predator Patrol. Frattare stressed that Ohio laws are clear that a potential predator who engages in conversation online– no matter how grotesque the details of the conversation– is not committing a crime unless the conversation is with an actual child or a member of law enforcement posing as the child. This means the men digital vigilante groups encounter are technically not guilty of any crime the police can prosecute them for.
As for the movie “Primetime,” Hansen is clearly not a fan. He’s openly mulled legal action against the filmmakers for their portrayal of him and his work. He’s currently shopping his own documentary called “I’m Chris Hansen,” to counter the movie’s dramatized narrative