Money As Motive

The statistic appears simple on its surface.

When motives are cataloged in cases involving female serial killers, money is frequently listed as the primary driver. Insurance payouts. Inheritance. Financial control. Material gain.

The simplicity is deceptive.

Statistics describe patterns, not meanings. And when a pattern repeats often enough, it can begin to feel like an explanation rather than a classification. In the context of violence—particularly violence committed by women—that distinction matters.

This subject deserves careful light, not because it is sensational, but because it sits at the intersection of gender, power, access, and how harm is interpreted after the fact.

What “Money” Means in Crime Statistics

In criminal data, motive categories are blunt tools. “Money” is not a psychological diagnosis; it is an administrative label. It is used when violence is linked to financial outcomes that are legible to investigators and courts.

This matters because financial outcomes are easier to trace than emotional ones.

Insurance claims can be documented. Bank transfers can be followed. Wills can be examined. Emotional control, coercion, or long-term psychological compensation cannot be quantified with the same clarity. When motive is reduced to what can be proven, what remains invisible is often dismissed.

So when statistics say “money,” they are often saying something narrower: this is the benefit we could clearly document.

Access Shapes Appearance

Violence does not occur in a vacuum. It occurs within social roles.

Historically and globally, women are more likely to have access to caregiving positions, domestic environments, and relational proximity over time. These roles do not grant overt physical power—but they do grant continuity, trust, and financial interdependence.

When harm occurs within those contexts, financial consequences often follow. Not because money was necessarily the emotional engine of the violence, but because money is the outcome that systems are trained to notice.

This is not an argument for innocence or mitigation. It is an argument for accuracy.

Gendered Expectations and Interpretive Bias

Cultural narratives shape interpretation long before data is entered into a spreadsheet.

Male violence is frequently framed as expressive: rage, dominance, sexual control, ideological fury. Female violence is more often framed as instrumental: gain, manipulation, calculation.

These frames are not neutral. They reflect discomfort with the idea that women can enact violence for reasons that are not transactional, desperate, or compensatory. Labeling the motive as “money” creates psychological distance. It turns harm into greed rather than aggression, pathology rather than power.

In this way, the statistic can function as a cultural soothing mechanism.

Survival, Control, and Misread Motives

Financial security is not just wealth. It is autonomy. Escape. Insulation. For individuals who have experienced prolonged powerlessness—economic, relational, or social—money can represent safety rather than excess.

That does not excuse violence. But it complicates the narrative.

When financial gain follows harm, it is tempting to assume it caused the harm. In reality, it may have symbolized control, stability, or permanence in a world experienced as unstable. Systems rarely ask that question, because systems are not designed to interpret meaning—only outcome.

Why This Distinction Matters

Misunderstanding the motive not only distorts the perception of perpetrators. It affects how society understands violence itself.

When we reduce complex behavior to greed, we miss the structural and psychological conditions that allow harm to persist unnoticed. We reinforce myths about who is dangerous and why. And we encourage shallow readings of violence that feel explanatory but prevent deeper accountability.

Blacklight Files does not seek to replace one narrative with another. It seeks slow the process of assumption.

Closing Reflection

The statistic is not wrong. But it is incomplete.

“Money” is a category, not a conscience. It tells us what was measurable, not what was meaningful. Understanding that difference does not soften harm—it sharpens our ability to recognize how violence is framed, filtered, and ultimately understood.

Under steady light, the question is no longer why the statistic exists.

It is what we choose to see—or ignore—because it does.