Why the world's most popular podcast is so troubling for Australians.

Note: Spoilers ahead. 

When I first pressed play on S-Town, I was expecting a true crime story.

Its predecessor Serial followed the captivating case of Adnan Syed, a man imprisoned for the murder of Hae Min Lee whom several people believed was innocent. With each episode I went back and forth on whether I believed he did it, and I became completely engulfed in the case and the memories of the people who had lived it.

But S-Town, marketed as the ‘new Serial‘ and now known as the world’s most popular podcast, isn’t a true crime podcast at all.

It centres on a man named John B. McLemore who lives in Alabama and, as one of his friends describes, makes “an insurmountable challenge out of living”.

Listen to Mia Freedman, Monique Bowley and Jessie Stephens discuss what no one’s saying about S-Town. Post continues after audio. 

He’s pessimistic and frustrated. He’s overwhelmed by the threat of climate change and the quality of the people in his town, who he says are racist, sexist and ignorant.

Initially, he wants host Brian Reed to help solve a murder in his town – a murder it later turns out never happened. But in episode two, Reed receives a phone call.

“John B died last night,” he’s told.

Except it’s not that simple. John, the 49-year-old man Reed has befriended and visited and emailed and spoken to over the phone for hours upon hours, died by suicide. And from that very first phone call we’re given the raw, uncensored, and brutally honest story of how John died.

The method he chose, the note he left, the person he called, the event that preceded it. We’re given it all.

In Australia, there are media codes of practice when it comes to reporting suicide. A suicide death is typically reported without explicit information about method or location, and with careful consideration to not glamourise or normalise the death.

Details that might reinforce suicidal thoughts are omitted, and language that suggests suicide is a 'crime' or 'sin' is avoided - phrases like 'committed suicide'.

The reason these guidelines exist is to reduce the potential for stories about suicide to do harm, because a great deal of research shows they can.

Dr Michael Carr-Gregg says certain media coverage can "romanticise... and sanitise" suicide and overall, studies show a significant relationship between media reporting of suicide and increases in suicidal behaviour.

Mindframe's website cites a 1995 study of Australian newspapers, which found rates of male suicide increased after media reports of a suicide. Male deaths by suicides peaked three days after the media story.

"Suicide contagion is real," says Madelyn Gould, a Professor of Psychiatry at Columbia University. "Social behaviour is contagious and influential. We wouldn't have a billion-dollar advertising market... if people didn't think you could influence someone else's behaviour."

The potential for "copy cat situations" to take place is something journalists, and perhaps story tellers in general, need to consider.

Speaking to Mamamia recently, Mindframe's Marc Bryant said Australia is leading the world in responsible suicide reporting. It appears the US is lagging behind. Research has shown that after the introduction of media guidelines, publications in the US did not reliably follow them, continuing to provide information about method and location and failing to include prevention resources.

Generally, the US isn't as sensitive when reporting suicide; perhaps because the scope is too wide and the industry too large to police effectively. This proclivity has then trickled into the story of John B. McLemore, and the podcast that tells it.

S-Town's host frequently refers to John "committing suicide," and there's a lengthy discussion about the way he died and how he spent his final moments. His suicide letter is read out - a philosophical, romantic piece of writing that paints his death as inherently meaningful. There are no helplines or resources read out. There are no trigger warnings or asides about suicide rates and mental health and related issues. There is no expert to comment.

This is just John's story.

PHOTO GALLERY: See contributed photos of John McLemore, featured in #stown podcast: https://t.co/AdUozbLxfI pic.twitter.com/MREJDiOhgg

— The Tuscaloosa News (@tuscaloosanews) March 28, 2017

So I found myself listening to S-Town in awe, because it's a story I very rarely hear. Even as a person who has been touched by suicide in my own life, I haven't been exposed to granular details about what happened.

But I know almost everything there is to know about John B. McLemore's death - as do the millions of other listeners who have downloaded S-Town in the few weeks since its release. At times it's disturbing and scary, and I do wonder how vulnerable people respond to the story of a man who felt hopeless so died by suicide, and then had the world's most popular podcast made about him.

The ultimate question is whether suicide reporting guidelines should extend to art, because after all, S-Town isn't a news report. It is, as The Atlantic described it, "a well-versed monument to empathy". It's real and touching and original and heartbreaking. It's unlike any other podcast before it.

But is it worth it?

If this post brings up issues for you, or you just need someone to talk to, please call Lifeline on 131 114. You can also visit the Lifeline website here and the Beyond Blue website here.

Griefline also provides free telephone and online counselling support services to people dealing with mental health issues, suicide, carer support, terminal illness, unemployment, and more. 

National: 1300 845 745 (from landlines)

National: (03) 9935 7400 (from mobiles)