Case Clearance: At What Cost?
As police departments across the country face low clearance rates and shrinking investigative units, one persistent danger becomes harder to ignore: the intense public and political pressure to swiftly solve high-profile crimes—especially those soaked in emotion and media attention. Under such strain, investigations can become susceptible to tunnel vision, rushed assumptions, and miscarriages of justice.
The case of Scott Peterson offers a cautionary example. On April 18, 2025, the Los Angeles Innocence Project filed a nearly 400-page petition with the California Court of Appeals requesting a new trial and alleging newly discovered evidence in one of the most widely publicized trials in recent American memory. Convicted in 2004 and sentenced to death for the murders of his pregnant wife and their unborn son, Peterson was resentenced to life without the possibility of parole in 2020 after the California Supreme Court found juror misconduct. While Peterson’s guilty verdict still stands as the Court of Appeals reviews his claim of innocence, the renewed scrutiny underscores a larger issue: high-profile, emotionally charged cases amplified by wall-to-wall media coverage often place enormous pressure on law enforcement to deliver swift results. That pressure can distort investigations, prematurely narrow focus, and (in rare cases) contribute to wrongful convictions.
Peterson’s conviction was built on circumstantial evidence. There was no murder weapon, no eyewitness, and no forensic link to the crime. The prosecution focused on his behavior before and after the disappearance—including going fishing Christmas Eve morning, changing his appearance by growing a beard and dyeing his hair, and maintaining a cold and stoic demeanor. Additionally, much of the narrative focused on Peterson’s extramarital affair, framing his infidelity as proof of homicidal motive. But from a criminological perspective, this logic doesn’t hold up. Infidelity is common; murder is not.
The vast majority of adulterers do not kill their partners. Research on intimate partner homicide shows that while extramarital affairs may correlate with tension in relationships and serve as a trigger, they are rarely the sole (or even primary) cause of lethal violence. Nevertheless, Peterson’s affair and demeanor became central to public discourse. His every move before, during, and after the trial was televised, dissected, and reinterpreted. In a climate driven by public mourning and media obsession, there is concern that the assumption of his guilt carried more weight than direct proof.
This is not an anomaly. In 1989, five Black and Latino teenagers—Antron McCray, Kevin Richardson, Yusef Salaam, Korey Wise, and Raymond Santana (the “Central Park Five”)—were wrongfully convicted of raping a white female jogger in Central Park. Amid an atmosphere of outrage and political pressure, police elicited confessions from the teens after lengthy and coercive interrogations. The term “wilding,” a racially coded and sensationalized descriptor, was widely used by press and police alike, helping to stoke public fear and justify the prosecutions. Although physical evidence contradicted their statements, it was years before DNA testing and a confession from the actual perpetrator cleared their names.
These breakdowns are usually not born of malice; rather, they stem from institutional pressure. Detectives assigned to violent crimes already operate under immense expectations, but those demands intensify when a case captures national headlines. Elected officials want assurance. Communities want justice. In this environment, the risk of prematurely focusing on one suspect while overlooking alternative leads rises substantially.
Today’s dual crises in law enforcement—the recruitment shortfall and the collapse in clearance rates—compound that risk. Police departments across the United States have experienced significant increases in retirements and resignations. Many investigative units now operate with minimal staff, and their detectives regularly manage caseloads that exceed recommended levels.
Meanwhile, violent crime clearance rates have plummeted. In 2023, only about half of all reported homicides and roughly 40 percent of crimes against persons cases were cleared nationwide. In some cities, the numbers are even worse. For example, clearance rates for nonfatal shootings have dropped below 25 percent, with single-digit percentages in some neighborhoods. These figures don’t just represent unsolved crimes—they represent communities without answers and offenders without accountability.
In such an environment, agencies may feel compelled to prioritize the most visible or politically charged cases, sometimes over those with stronger evidentiary leads. Though understandable under pressure, this approach creates significant risk. Rushed or reactive policing is more likely to cause missteps, which can result in innocent people being wrongfully convicted.
According to the National Registry of Exonerations, more than 3,600 Americans have been exonerated since 1989. In 2024, there were 85 exonerations of individuals convicted of murder or manslaughter, accounting for 58 percent of all exonerations that year. A variety of systemic factors contributes to these wrongful convictions. Eyewitness misidentification, long held as the leading cause of wrongful convictions, is often influenced by flawed police lineups or memory contamination. Police or prosecutorial misconduct can occur, particularly when tunnel vision leads investigators to disregard alternative theories, suppress exculpatory evidence, or pursue overly narrow investigative paths. Inadequate legal defense—especially among indigent defendants who lack the resources to challenge forensic claims or conduct independent investigations—also plays a significant role. False confessions—often elicited from juveniles or cognitively impaired individuals through coercive interrogation tactics—further compound the problem. False, faulty, or misleading physical evidence has significant implications for cases that rely heavily on forensic science. Finally, media-driven public panic can inflame juror bias, elevate political stakes, and transform courtroom trials into high-stakes televised dramas. When these pressures converge within under-resourced departments facing declining clearance rates and relentless media scrutiny, the pursuit of justice can shift from careful deliberation to desperate decision-making.
This isn’t an indictment of law enforcement or the media—it’s a call to recognize and address structural vulnerabilities. Departments must receive support in the form of appropriate staffing, realistic caseload expectations, investigative training, and access to forensic tools, while the broader system must stop equating speed with success. We can’t advance public safety when the wrong person is convicted and the right one walks free.
Peterson’s fate remains unresolved, but his case and the legacy of the Central Park Five serve as critical reminders that in the pursuit of justice, process must outweigh pressure, and truth must outlast the headlines.