The Fugitive: The news media’s role in the production of social problems and responsibilization of the public

Introduction

In April 2022, a 20-year-old Black man became an active fugitive in Iceland after escaping police custody. The case attracted significant media attention, with all major news outlets covering his escape, background, and ensuing manhunt (Logadóttir, 2022a; Magnússon, 2022a; Sverrisson and Þorfinnsson, 2022; Tryggvason, 2022a). The man’s photo and name were widely shared by the media, and the public was urged to contact the authorities with relevant information on his whereabouts (Guðjónsson, 2022; Jónsdóttir and Sæmundsdóttir, 2022). Both the media and authorities portrayed him as dangerous, emphasizing a history of violent behaviour (Sigurþórsdóttir, 2022; Sverrisson and Þorfinnsson, 2022; Tryggvason, 2022a). During the search, the police, acting on tips from the public, twice responded with armed interventions, mistakenly apprehending the same individual both times (Ólafsdóttir, 2022a). These repeated incidents of mistaken identity sparked online outrage, with accusations of racial profiling made against the police (e.g., DV, 2022a). After a few days on the run, the fugitive and alleged accomplices were apprehended in a summer house outside the capital (e.g., Magnússon, 2022b).

Crime and narratives are intertwined through storytelling, shaping both the storyteller and their audience (Maruna and Liem, 2021). Storytelling is fundamental to human existence, helping to create meaning and representations of the social world. Stories enable both storytellers and listeners to engage with complex realities through imagination, simplifying the world and ideas (Sandberg and Ugelvik, 2016). Crime, in particular, serves as a popular source of both entertainment and information, often packaged as a product for consumption (Dowler et al., 2006). The consumption of crime stories becomes a shared experience, as readers assume others share their interpretations and emotional reactions (Katz, 1987). Mass media can shape perceptions of crime, frequently amplifying the impression that crime and violence are more common in daily life than they are (Altheide, 1997; Smolej and Kivivuori, 2006).

Sandberg (2016) emphasizes that stories about crime, harm, and deviance communicate social norms and values by creating moral boundaries between the acceptable and the deviant. Narrative criminology views narratives themselves as a source of criminogenic factors, as they shape perceptions of identity and actions (Kruttschnitt and Kang, 2019; Maruna and Liem, 2021). For narrative criminologists, the focus is not on whether the story is true or false, but rather on the impact the narrative has on both the storyteller and the audience. Stories have the ability to mobilize action, maintain social order, or deter crime (Sandberg, 2016; Presser and Sandberg, 2015). Key elements such as characters and plotlines can inspire people to take specific actions (Presser and Sandberg, 2015).

The incident with the fugitive took place in Iceland, a nation long noted for its small, homogenous population and reputation as a safe, low-crime country (Global Peace Index, 2024). In recent years, however, there has been an increase in public fear of crime and perceptions of greater danger, with concerns over rising crime rates and more severe offenses becoming more prominent (Sigurðarson, 2024). These heightened anxieties coincide with significant demographic changes, notably a considerable rise in immigration (Statistics Iceland, n.d.). Although research shows that the relationship between immigration and crime varies across social contexts (Wickes and Sydes, 2018), studies indicate that increased immigration is often associated with heightened fear of crime (Nunziata, 2015), likely due to media framing immigration as linked to rising crime rates (Harris and Gruenewald, 2020). This shift has introduced broader public and media discussions around issues like racial profiling that, while likely not new to non-white individuals in Iceland, have only recently gained wider attention in mainstream discourse.

This paper explores how a high-profile crime case, the escape of a young fugitive from police custody in Reykjavík in April 2022, was portrayed in Icelandic online media. Rather than examining public attitudes or audience responses directly, the study focuses on how, in a “moment of crisis” (Fairclough, 1992), the media narrative evolved—from initially focusing on the fugitive, to criticizing police procedure, and finally concluding with the fugitive’s capture.

To guide our analyses, we draw on two complementary theoretical frameworks. First, Garland’s (1997, 2001) concept of responsibilization is used to examine how media narratives positioned citizens as active participants in crime control and public safety. Second, we build on the work of Loseke (2003) and Presser (2018) on social problems and claim-making to explore how crime stories become platforms for broader moral and political claims. The paper contributes to existing scholarship by offering a rare examination of crime-related media discourse in Iceland—an area that has received limited scholarly attention (but see Jónasson and Gunnlaugsson, 2014). It also extends theoretical work on narrative criminology by describing how media storytelling during critical events can potentially shape both perceptions of crime and the boundaries of public responsibility.

Given that most people do not encounter crime directly, the media often becomes the primary source through which the public engages with issues of crime and justice. Research shows that media portrayals of crime can significantly influence public attitudes, amplify fear, reinforce stereotypes, and affect support for crime policies and justice system responses (Cavender, 2004; Dowler, 2003; Shin and Watson, 2022). This underscores the importance of examining not only what is reported, but also how it is narrated.

The article proceeds as follows: First, we provide an overview of the Icelandic context, situating the study within the broader societal and demographic shifts. Second, we introduce the theoretical framework, focusing on (1) governmentality, responsibilization, crime control, and (2) the social construction of problems through claim-making. Third, we briefly review prior research on crime and media in Iceland. Fourth, we describe the methodology, highlighting the application of narrative criminology to analyze media texts. In the fifth section, we present our analysis and results, examining the media’s role in constructing the fugitive as a dangerous criminal and the subsequent racial profiling debate. Finally, we conclude by discussing the implications of our findings for understanding the relationship between crime narratives, public action, and social change.

The current research and the Icelandic context

In 2010, a headline in an Icelandic newspaper read: “Polar bear in Þistilsfjörður,” a rare sighting in Iceland despite the country’s name. Roughly 30 years earlier, a headline about the same area had read: “Negro in Þistilsfjörður,” referring to a man from Ghana working on a farm in the fjord. The headline is periodically shared between people in the sense of comical introspection where Icelanders look back at their naivety (Loftsdóttir, 2014b).

Like other Nordic countries, Iceland has traditionally been seen as ethnically homogeneous, with whiteness as the normalized “us” and “others” defined narrowly by “their” ethnicity (Loftsdóttir, 2014a). However, Iceland is increasingly becoming a more diverse society. Immigrants comprised under 2% of the population in 1996, rising to 8% by 2008 due to economic growth, Iceland’s entrance into Schengen, the EEA agreement, and increased labour demand (Loftsdóttir, 2014b). By 2024, this figure reached 18% of the population, with second-generation immigrants growing from 0.1% to 1.8% in the same period (Loftsdóttir, 2014b; Statistics Iceland, n.d.).

The Icelandic police force is relatively small, unarmed, and predominantly composed of white men of Icelandic descent (Steinþórsdóttir and Pétursdóttir, 2022). While police authorities have consistently denied engaging in racial profiling (Eyþórsdóttir and Valdimarsdóttir, 2024), they were criticized in 2020 for wearing badges referencing racist symbols during the global response to the George Floyd shooting and Black Lives Matter movement. A media report in 2020 highlighted a 3-year-old photo showing a police officer with a “Thin blue line flag,” “Vinland flag,” and a “Punisher” badge on their uniform (Ólafsdóttir and Yaghi, 2020).

Trust in the Icelandic police has traditionally been high, surpassing many other institutions in Iceland (Bjarnason, 2014; Gallup, 2024) and exceeding trust levels in other nations (ESS ERIC, 2023). Public assistance and cooperation, such as contacting the police for help, reporting suspicious activity, or providing tips on people’s whereabouts, are often seen as a form of informal social control, which the police frequently rely on. Public willingness to cooperate is influenced by their relationship with the police and the level of social cohesion in society. Those who perceive a greater threat to social and moral order are more likely to cooperate with the police (Bradford and Jackson, 2016). In recent years, there has been a slight decline in trust in the police in Iceland, particularly among younger people (Valdimarsdóttir, 2021). Nonetheless, most still view the police as a legitimate authority acting in the public’s interest, with 82% of a random sample from the public affirming this in a 2023 survey (Hrafnsson and Einarsdóttir, 2023).

In a recent article, Pakes and Gunnlaugsson (2024) reviewed scholarly discussions on Nordic penal exceptionalism, which emphasizes normalization—the idea that life in prison should resemble life outside as much as possible. Within this framework, prison escapes are portrayed as somewhat understandable rather than alarming. The prevailing attitude has been that prison is, by nature, an artificial environment, making it only human for someone to occasionally “wander off.” With a significant proportion of prisoners placed in open facilities, security is given little emphasis, and escapes are rarely framed as crises; the assumption is that most escapees will eventually return voluntarily or be peacefully apprehended.

However, Pakes and Gunnlaugsson (2024) question this idealized narrative, suggesting that this “folklore” of harmless escapes does not fully reflect how such incidents are perceived or handled in practice. They illustrate this point by discussing a few high-profile escape cases in Iceland. In 1993, a former U.S. Marine convicted of kidnapping escaped from the closed prison Litla-Hraun, drawing significant public interest. More recently, two other escapes,in 2012 and 2018,stood out. In 2012, a man sentenced for attempted murder escaped from Litla-Hraun and remained a fugitive for nearly a week. His victim’s family was believed to be in danger, and the escape ended when the man turned himself in on Christmas Eve. In 2018, a man escaped from the open prison Sogn and fled the country, traveling through Sweden to the Netherlands. Though not considered dangerous, his escape drew attention due to its dramatic nature. He communicated with the public and police via social media and reportedly shared a flight with then-Prime Minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir. He was apprehended in Amsterdam 5 days later. Thus, the 2022 fugitive case was not the first to attract media attention.

While previous fugitive cases have been publicly discussed, as described by Pakes and Gunnlaugsson (2024), they have not been systematically analyzed through the lens of media coverage or narrative framing. What sets the 2022 case apart is not only the intensity of the media attention but also the racialization of the fugitive and the unusually high level of public participation in the manhunt. These dynamics unfolded within the broader context of Iceland’s shifting demographics and growing anxieties about crime and public safety. This makes the case particularly relevant for examining how narratives of governmentality, responsibilization, and informal social control are produced and circulated in a society historically regarded as ethnically homogenous. Given the central role that media play in shaping perceptions of crime, fear, and social order (Mastrorocco and Minale, 2018; Näsi et al., 2021), a closer analysis of the 2022 case may offer important insights into how news media narratives reflect and reproduce broader social tensions in times of perceived crisis.

Theoretical framework

To analyze how the media constructed the 2022 fugitive case, this study draws on two closely connected theoretical strands. The first focuses on the concept of governmentality and the responsibilization of citizens as informal agents of crime control. The second focuses on claim-making and the social construction of problems, highlighting how moral narratives and emotional storytelling mobilize public concern and shape social responses. Together, these perspectives provide a framework for understanding how media narratives produce meaning, establish boundaries, and govern through discourse.

Governmentality, responsibilization and crime control

Governmentality, a concept popularized by Michel Foucault and developed further by other scholars (Garland, 1997, Li, 2007; Merry, 2001), offers a framework for understanding the relationship between power, knowledge, and social control (Foucault, 1991). It centres on “the government of others and the government of oneself” (Garland, 1997, p. 174). In the context of crime control, governmentality literature highlights a shift from welfare-oriented policies to neoliberal governance strategies (Garland, 1997). Rather than relying on physical force, modern states exercise power through “technologies of the self,” encouraging individuals to internalize responsibility and align their behavior with state objectives.

When this alignment is achieved, citizens become “the responsibilized, security-conscious crime-preventing subject” (Garland, 1997, p. 190), acting as informal agents of crime control. Criminogenic situations are thus governed by “responsible individuals” in partnership with the state, forming a chain of action and security (Garland, 1997). Through responsibilization, the state indirectly governs crime by outsourcing prevention to non-state actors, institutions, and communities. Acknowledging its limited capacity to control crime alone, the state seeks to instil a sense of duty in the public to support crime prevention through behavior change and increased informal social control (Garland, 1996).

Literature on “new dangers” within governmentality studies highlights how ordinary citizens have been recruited as active partners or citizen soldiers, especially in the war on terror (Hay, 2007; Reeves, 2012; Walsh, 2020). Chan (2008) describes this as lateral surveillance (or peer-to-peer surveillance), where the government encourages the public to act as an extension of police by reporting suspicious activities or objects. Mass media further amplify this role, emphasizing the public’s importance in maintaining order (Walsh, 2020). In places like the UK, the US, and Australia, governments have activated the public with messages such as: ‘Terrorists won’t succeed if someone reports suspicious bags, vehicles, or behavior. You are that someone. Call 999’ (Chan, 2008, p. 226). This shift has transformed the public into an extension of the surveillance network, fostering a “surveillance society” centred on security and individual responsibility for safety through heightened fear and distrust (Chan, 2008; Simon, 2007).

Contemporary analyses of everyday moralization highlight how individual assessments of proper and improper ways to act, think, and behave in social situations are embedded in broader systems of social control (Hier, 2008; 2019; Hunt, 2003). Everyday assessments are understood as a rational, internal dialect through which individuals interpret themselves and others, managing risk and avoiding harm (Hier, 2008). Risk is constructed as a personal responsibility, requiring people to act in a specific way to protect themselves from potential dangers. This logic is often conveyed through the idea of “potential victims,” which frames people as inherently vulnerable to random acts of crime. Risk is future-oriented, prompting people to avoid potentially dangerous situations, such as dimly lit streets or going out at night (Hier, 2008, 2016).

Media campaigns are an effective way to reach a large audience, targeting either the general population or a specific group of potential offenders and victims to instil a sense of duty and encourage behavioral change (Garland, 1996). Traditionally, moral panic is viewed as a 'top-down' process, where political elites and interest groups make exaggerated claims about deviance. However, Hier (2019) argues that in response to perceived neo-liberal failings, such as the 2008 financial crash, new movements have emerged in a “bottom-up” fashion. Examples include the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street in the US, both formed in reaction to these perceived failures, albeit for different reasons.

Social problems and claim-making

Presser (2018) argues that dramatic stories often involve a shift in circumstances or the emergence of a new crisis, which prompts a corresponding shift in response. In such moments, claim-makers—individuals or groups who seek to define certain conditions as social problems—play a central role. Their actions carry moral weight, drawing symbolic boundaries between themselves and others. As Loseke (2003) and Spector and Kitsuse (2001) note, social problems are typically framed as widespread conditions that are both harmful and solvable. To gain recognition, claim-makers must engage and persuade an audience through verbal or visual means—that the issue is real and demands attention. While not every audience member must be convinced, securing support from key actors is essential (Loseke, 2003).

Claim-makers can include politicians, officials, lobbyists, organizations, and the mass media—any group seeking to define or address a social problem. However, as Loseke (2003) argues, what matters is not the motives of claim-makers but how their claims are received. The truth becomes secondary if the audience accepts the claims (Loseke, 2003). Stories about social problems can be strategically impactful, influencing people regardless of their truthfulness. Stories are inherently selective, as they cannot include every detail (Presser, 2018). While audiences evaluate claims, some carry more weight than others, depending on who makes them and how they are framed.

Claim-makers’ credibility is ranked hierarchically, meaning some are readily believed, while others are quickly dismissed. At the top are scientists, whose expertise and credentials are often highlighted to reinforce their credibility. Slightly lower in the hierarchy are problem-specific or localized professions. At the bottom are groups such as children, the poor, and minority groups, whose claims are often disregarded. However, when individuals from the higher ranks support their claim, the public is more likely to accept them (Loseke, 2003).

Mass media is often a key claim-maker in the production of social problems. The media can shape social problems in two ways: as primary claim-makers, where media professionals actively produce stories, similar to social activists, and as secondary claim-makers, where they interpret claims made by others, such as politicians, scientists, and activists. Through media, claim-makers can reach broader audiences, presenting information and detailed coverage of social issues that might otherwise be unseen, thereby shaping public perception and reality (Loseke, 2003).

To convince their audience, claim-makers use various strategies. Loseke (2003) states that they often employ strategic diagnostic frames, which need to be simple, as complex frames can confuse the audience and hence be less effective. Once claims have been constructed, the audience must be engaged and motivated to enact change, a process Loseke calls motivational frames. According to Loseke (2003), there are two main methods of motivating the audience: logic and emotions. These frames are viewed through cultural themes that depend on the audience's cultural literacy and normative views and are also both culturally and historically specific, often appealing to logic. Emotional appeals can be more effective framing, as “encouraging audience members to feel in a particular way are less likely to be challenged” (Loseke, 2003, p. 76). People can be persuaded through sympathy, anger, compassion, hostility, or fear to feel a certain way about social problems or people. Moreover, audiences construct their sense of rights, duties, and capacities through these narratives (Loseke, 2003).

Similarly, Presser (2018) emphasises the role of emotions in shaping and influencing narratives. Narratives consist of goals, actions, and events that create a coherent storyline, explaining situational changes and relationships between actors. They engage audiences through unstable scenarios, drawing them in emotionally as they seek resolution and, ultimately, a sense of closure. Narratives also assign blame or recognition, distinguishing between good and bad actions, often creating binary characters, innocent victims, and villainous antagonists. The vilification of characters can evoke strong emotional responses in the audience and mobilize them to act. Indeed, psychology studies suggest that negative emotions, like anger and fear, are more effective in motivating actions than positive emotions like hope and compassion (Tannenbaum et al., 2015; Witte and Allen, 2000).

In stories about mass harm, the storyline often pits the pure protagonists against the evil “other”, constructed as universally threatening— when in reality, most violence is committed towards someone specific under specific circumstances (Presser, 2018). Loseke (2003) notes that not all victims elicit sympathy; those considered moral, not responsible for their harm, and in need of help are more likely to be seen as deserving (see also Christie, 1986). Constructing such victims can be a powerful claim-making strategy, creating a motivational frame that encourages the audience to engage with social problems.

Crime, media, and moral narratives in Iceland

While research on media portrayals of crime in Iceland remains limited, several studies have documented shifts in tone, topic, and political influence in crime reporting. This section reviews key findings from prior media studies in Iceland, identifying patterns in moral panic, fear amplification, and the media’s role as both a source of public knowledge and a platform for claim-making. These insights help situate the current study within the broader landscape of Icelandic crime discourse.

In an analysis of news about crimes in Iceland from 1969 to 1993, Gunnlaugsson and Galliher (2000) found that while the volume of reporting remained relatively stable until the late 1980s, it increased sharply in 1993. Their study also noted a shift in focus—from property crimes to more frequent coverage of sexual offenses, violent crimes, and drug-related cases. Later work by Gunnlaugsson (2003) revealed a growing tendency toward dramatization and pessimistic portrayals in media narratives, with crime increasingly framed as escalating despite limited empirical support. Gunnlaugsson (2003) also raised a concern about the potential alignment between media discourse and political interests, particularly given the close ties between media outlets and political actors in Iceland.

The relationship between media reporting and public perceptions of safety was further explored by Gunnlaugsson and Þórisdóttir (2003), who found that people in Reykjavík reported feeling less safe during a period of more frequent media coverage of violent crime. This suggests a connection between media content and public fear. Similarly, Jónasson and Gunnlaugsson (2014) identified many characteristics of a moral panic in their analysis of media coverage surrounding youth use of ecstasy. Although serious drug use among young people was rare, media narratives, largely shaped by official voices such as police, framed the issue as a major social threat. The resulting public concern prompted petition drives, calls for tougher penalties, and legislative changes expanding police powers, with middle-class pressure groups playing a key role in mobilizing public support.

Methods and data

Narrative criminology highlights the role of stories and their relationship to crime, deviance, and other harmful acts (Maruna and Liem, 2021; Sandberg and Ugelvik, 2016). Stories are defined by patterns and events that create a beginning, middle, and end, with a sequence of events that influence each other. Narrative studies analyse the form and content of stories, including plotlines, roles, and characters (Sandberg, 2022).

Our analysis specifically concentrates on the brief period of heightened media coverage—from the initial escape notification on April 19, 2022, until the fugitive’s recapture on April 22, 2022. This short, yet intensive, media period is considered a “moment of crisis,” characterized by rapid information flow and heightened public engagement (Fairclough, 1992). Although the individual’s name and photograph appeared prominently across media sources, this paper deliberately omits identifying details, as they are not central to the analysis.

To contextualize the selection of news sources analysed in this study, it is important to briefly describe the Icelandic media landscape. Iceland has both public and private media, with a small number of companies dominating the news market. The National Broadcasting Service, RÚV, is Iceland’s public service broadcaster. It operates television, radio, and an online news site (ruv.is), and is primarily funded through a broadcasting tax, though up to one-third of its revenue comes from advertising (excluding online) (Ólafsson and Jóhannsdóttir, 2021).

In the private sector, three companies—Árvakur, Sýn, and Torg—own the largest and most influential outlets in terms of audience, revenue, and staffing. Árvakur publishes Morgunblaðið, one of the few remaining print newspapers, and runs its online counterpart mbl.is as well as the radio station K100. Historically, Morgunblaðið has been linked to the conservative Independence Party, and Árvakur’s current ownership includes investors from the fishing industry. Sýn owns the television broadcaster Stöð 2, several radio stations, and the online news platform visir.is. Vísir was formerly the online arm of Fréttablaðið, which has since ceased publication. Torg operates dv.is, the website of the now-defunct DV newspaper. Its sole investor is reportedly affiliated with a centre-right political party (Jóhannsdóttir et al., 2021).

The Icelandic media landscape has been characterized by both a high level of ownership concentration and frequent changes in ownership, with some outlets maintaining historical or financial ties to political or economic elites (Jóhannsdóttir et al., 2021; Ólafsson and Jóhannsdóttir, 2021). In terms of news consumption, online platforms have far surpassed traditional print, television, and radio. The four outlets included in this study—mbl.is, visir.is, dv.is, and ruv.is—are the most widely visited news websites in Iceland, with weekly page views ranging from 200,000 to over 2 million (Gallup, n.d.). Other online outlets exist but draw comparatively small audiences and were therefore excluded from the analysis.

To identify relevant articles, we conducted keyword searches within each news outlet's online search engine. Initially, we searched for the term “fugitive”, ¹ a term that has previously been used by the media in comparable cases (e.g., MBL, 2018) and due to its consistent use across all media platforms in framing the incident. Subsequently, we conducted additional searches using the escaped individual’s name to ensure comprehensive coverage. We also utilized each site’s “related articles” feature to locate any further relevant content that may not have been captured through initial keyword searches. Using the term “fugitive” specifically enabled us to effectively capture the prevailing media narrative. Although this focused keyword may have potentially limited alternative framings, preliminary checks confirmed that articles covering the incident universally employed this term, thereby validating our choice and minimizing the risk of excluding significant alternative narratives.

The final dataset comprised 47 news articles published during the critical period (April 19–22, 2022), from the moment the police publicly announced the escape until the individual was recaptured. An additional set of nine articles, published shortly after the event (between April 24 and May 18, 2022), was also collected to contextualize subsequent discussions. All identified articles were downloaded in PDF format and imported into the qualitative analysis software NVivo (Lumivero, 2024).

Coding was conducted through thematic narrative analysis (Sandberg, 2022), guided by narrative criminology principles (Presser and Sandberg, 2015). The coding process involved multiple stages. Initially, articles were reviewed thoroughly, applying open coding to identify recurring narratives, representations of the fugitive, depictions of danger, responsibility, race, police procedures, public reactions, and claims or counterclaims regarding racial profiling. Following open coding, identified codes were systematically organized into thematic clusters based on narrative patterns, character roles, and the emotional framing of events. Ultimately, the coding indicated two interrelated main narratives in the story. The first is the fugitive’s story, with overlapping codes such as “producing danger,” “morality,” “outsourcing responsibility,” and “ensuing manhunt.” These codes produced the first analytical theme: (1) constructing the “dangerous criminal” and the responsibilization of the public. The second narrative focuses on the police procedure, particularly the public and institutional response to the implication of the wrong man. This part of the story generated two additional analytical themes: (2) the racial profiling social problem claim, and (3) counterclaims framing police errors as collateral damage within standard procedures. These three themes are presented in the following section, each in its own section aligned with the associated narrative structures.

Producing the “dangerous” criminal and the responsibilization of the public

On the evening of April 19, all the media outlets reported that a man in his early twenties had escaped police custody while being transported to the Reykjavik district court. The initial reports were based on a (now deleted) post from the official Facebook page of the Reykjavik Metropolitan police. Articles included the fugitive’s name, a close-up mugshot-like photo, along with details of his characteristics, height, eye colour, weight, and his outfit at the time of the escape (e.g., Logadóttir, 2022a; Magnússon, 2022a). The police encouraged the public to provide any information that might aid in his capture and urged the fugitive to surrender (Jakob Bjarnar, 2022). Labelling him as “fugitive” immediately suggests a dangerous, guilty criminal fleeing justice, as it implies that an innocent person would have no reason to flee. In this framing, the media must rely upon the audience’s cultural literacy (Loseke, 2003).

On April 20, various media outlets expanded on the fugitive’s escape and criminal history. They drew on interviews with institutional commentators, such as a police spokesperson and the director-general of prison and probation administration, as well as court records. The narrative shifted from implying potential danger to explicitly labelling him as dangerous, as reflected in the MBL headline: “This is a dangerous individual” ² (Guðjónsson, 2022). The headline directly quoted the police superintendent, who described how the man escaped custody, evaded the police, and posed a potential threat to the public. The superintendent emphasized his concern, stating: “We want to find this man as soon as possible, as he has been charged with a violent offence. I do not know what he hoped to accomplish by escaping, but this is a dangerous individual” ³ (Guðjónsson, 2022).

DV also highlighted the fugitive's criminal history, using court records to illustrate his perceived danger to society. The headline in DV read: “Sinister history of the violent fugitive [name]: Group fight, robbery, and bloody combat in Borgarholt’s high school” ⁴ (Sverrisson and Þorfinnsson, 2022). The headline strongly suggests the fugitive’s dangerous nature, with the report listing his charges in a way that suggests a continuous life of violence rather than incidents spread over 4 years. Other media similarly reported on his violent past, noting, for example, that he had around fifty offenses on his record (Sigurþórsdóttir, 2022).

The portrayal of the fugitive as a “dangerous criminal,” emphasizing his violent past and unpredictable nature, can instil fear in the public. Negative emotions, such as fear, are more effective at mobilizing action than positive ones (Presser, 2018). The fugitive is reduced to a dangerous criminal, his location unknown, and the potential to commit violence against anyone. Media reports frequently emphasised that the police required the public’s help to apprehend him and keep them safe. Theories of everyday moralization suggest that when anyone could be a potential victim, almost at random, assisting the state with crime control becomes a moral duty to minimize risk and avoid harm (Garland, 1996; Hier, 2008). Media serves as the most effective way to reach a large audience (Loseke, 2003). For example, MBL, VISIR, and DV all included a clause at the end of their articles urging the public to provide the police with any information on the fugitive's whereabouts (e.g., Árnason, 2022).

According to Chan (2008), modern society can be considered a “surveillance society,” marked by lateral surveillance. As the number of police officers has decreased, public responsibility for monitoring and reporting has increased. For example, quantitative studies show that police visibility in Iceland’s capital area (reports of seeing the police more than once a week) dropped from 31% in 2016 to 16% in 2020 (Valdimarsdóttir, 2021). As a result, the public plays a crucial role in crime control. In the fugitive case, the media encouraged the public to stay vigilant and share any relevant information with the police. However, Chan (2008) argues that lateral surveillance, where citizens monitor each other and act as an extension of the police, is not only ineffective but also tends to increase fear and distrust within society, reducing social cohesion (Chan, 2008).

The issue of race became evident when the police, acting on a tip from the public, mistakenly apprehended the wrong individual. On April 20, Police special forces stopped a bus and mistakenly detained another Black teenager. According to news reports, the teenager was believed to have similar complexion and hairstyle to the fugitive (Logadóttir, 2022b). The next day (April 21), the police intervened with the same teenager again; this time while he was in a bakery with his mother (Magnúsdóttir, 2022; Ólafsdóttir, 2022a; Þorfinnsson, 2022). The teenager’s mother drew attention to the case and criticized the police procedure and their handling of the case. In an interview with reporters, she stated that she suspected that a “Man in a Tesla” reported her son to the police (Ólafsdóttir, 2022b). Without expanding further on her suspicion, she opened the door for interpretation. It is often in what is left unsaid that cultural literacy becomes essential. A “Man in a Tesla” implies a white, middle-aged, middle/upper-class man in a position of privilege, highlighting the power dynamic between him and a teenager from a minority group when considering the effects of the intervention. The mother described her son as being “a prisoner in his own home”, and that they felt humiliated (Ólafsdóttir, 2022b). Despite these mistakes, the police continued to encourage people to provide tips, noting that they had already received many and acted on some of them without success (Logadóttir and Ólafsdóttir, 2022).

In producing the image of a “dangerous criminal” and mobilizing public responsibility, the goals of the state and individuals are aligned through a shared motivation to locate the individual. The public, thus, becomes active partners in crime control as “citizen soldiers.” This responsibilization was perhaps most evident in the aftermath of the manhunt. On May 17, during a deposition before the General and Education Commission ⁵ in the Icelandic parliament, the national commissioner of the Icelandic police was questioned about the police procedure and intervention in the case of the wrongfully accused teenager. The commissioner stated that the police were following up on information from the public and, therefore, could not be accused of racial profiling. Given the fugitive’s history of armed violence, the police deemed it necessary to deploy special forces in response to any tips they received (Ómarsdóttir, 2022). The statement allowed the police commissioner to shift responsibility to the public while partially absolving the police.

Social problem claim: The police are racist

At midday on April 20, the first news article about the unsuccessful police operation was published (Logadóttir, 2022b). As previously mentioned, the special forces stopped a bus to respond to a tip they received about the potential whereabouts of the fugitive. First reports suggested that special force personnel forcefully boarded the bus and detained the Black teenager and his friends, only to later realize that they had apprehended the wrong person.

As news coverage of the incident picked up, members of the public began voicing strong criticism of the police on the social media platform Twitter. DV generated an article with selected tweets from the general public and others, such as members of parliament. One member of parliament proposed a question to Siri (Apple Inc., digital assistant), “Hey Siri, can you show me racial profiling?.” Another prominent politician, born to immigrant parents, pleaded to the media outlets to monitor their comment sections, adding that the police should refrain from utilizing racial profiling in their work. Other selected tweets showed that people were angry and accused the police of using racial profiling in their “manhunt” (DV, 2022b).

As is often the case with online news media articles, these articles presented secondary claims that interpreted the meaning from their sources. In this instance, DV (2022b) generated an article by directly pasting tweets, prefaced by a case summary. The headline (albeit a lengthy one) read: “Anger after special forces mistakenly picked up a 16-year-old boy for the fugitive – ‘This type of mistake would probably not have happened if the boy were white’”. ⁶ The media structured its narrative around a popular claim that the police are influenced by racial bias, a perception reinforced by a previous controversy, when a photo circulated of a police officer wearing allegedly “racist” patches on their official uniform (Ólafsdóttir and Yaghi, 2020).

Among those most vocal critics of the police's procedures was a well-known Black Icelandic musician. He posted his criticism on Facebook, which was subsequently picked up by the media and republished (e.g., Árnason, 2022). As Loseke (2003) argues, claims are typically made from a position of power in a top-down fashion. In this case, however, the claim emerged in a bottom-up fashion, structured primarily through an emotional and motivational frame that suggested racial bias in police actions. With Iceland’s increasing demographic diversity, issues of race and racism have become more prominent (Statistics Iceland, n.d.). Moreover, the teenager, who had done nothing other than share a fugitive racial appearance, became a symbol of the innocent victim. His situation evoked strong emotions in commentators, particularly sympathy and anger, which can be harnessed as a powerful motivational frame (Loseke, 2003; Presser, 2018).

In the wake of the day's mistaken identity, the office of the State police felt compelled to release a written press statement to the media about the police’s failed procedure. The press statement explained that the police had been responding to a tip from the public when the special forces stopped and boarded a bus. The police expressed regret for intervening with the teenager and emphasized that people in minority groups should not fear being mistakenly detained by the police. The statement also noted that prejudiced and racist comments would be removed from the police’s social media, with comments disabled on posts related to the case. Nevertheless, the police, in the same press statement, continued to request the public’s help in providing information about the fugitive’s whereabouts (Árnason, 2022).

The day after, on April 21, the police intervened with the same teenager again; this time, he was with his mother in a bakery. Again, social media responded with outrage, and both DV and MBL produced articles with selected tweets from various accounts on the social media platform (MBL, 2022; DV, 2022a). Once again, the police were accused of using racial profiling in their search for the fugitive. This time, DV posted mixed “tweets”; some made jokes at the expense of the police, where they were painted simply as incompetent. Others expressed their anger with the police and drew parallels between the police’s work, systematic racism, and racism in broader society. This event reflected poorly on the police, especially given that just a day earlier, they had apologized to the teenager and reminded the public that racism and hostility towards minority groups were never justified. For many claim-makers, this event symbolized the deeper problems in Iceland, that racism persisted within its institutions and broader society, warranting attention and improvement. In response to the second incident, a Pirate Party MP insisted that the minister of justice investigate the case and the police procedures (Sæberg, 2022; Þorláksson, 2022).

However, for claims to be recognized as social problems, they must persuade the right audience (Loseke, 2003). For the claim-makers, the second apprehension of the teenager provided further evidence of systematic racial bias within the police. Thus, they constructed their motivational frame through both logic and emotion. Emotionally, emphasizing the innocence of a young boy detained twice, and logically, by questioning why a fugitive would risk his hard-earned freedom by taking a bus and stopping in a bakery.

Counterclaim: Collateral damage in a standard procedure

As criticism of the mistaken identity case intensified, the claim of police racism faced substantial pushback. After the first incident, VISIR sought a response from a criminologist at a university who stated that the case alone was not evidence of systematic racism in the police but raised a concern about the use of special forces in public spaces (Ólafsdóttir, 2022c). The case underscored the importance of the police treating people from minority groups with respect. By citing an academic, specifically a criminological specialist who represents the top tier of the claim-making hierarchy, the article added credibility to the counterclaim. The academic credentials were explicitly stated in the article to reinforce their authority.

The assistant to the minister of justice, a former Independence Party MP and a former lawyer, commented on the mistaken identity case on his Facebook page, which was widely reported in almost all major media (e.g., Tryggvason, 2022b). In his post, he stressed that the police had to respond to every tip, especially when searching for a dangerous fugitive. He compared the teenager's case to the mistaken identities experienced by red-headed and bearded people, claiming such incidents are common when the police act on public tips. He also criticized those accusing the police of racism, calling them “badly instilled” and “plebs” ₇ (DV, 2022c).

His position as a high-ranking civil servant, former lawyer, and former member of parliament places him in the upper echelon of the claim-making hierarchy. With his comments, he downplayed the teenagers’ experience as collateral damage from a legitimate police procedure, dismissing accusations of racism as bad morals. By referring to people as plebs, he further embellishes his status in the hierarchy of society and claim-makers. In the Icelandic online dictionary, “Snara,” plebeian is defined as a “common-,” “vulgar,” or an “ordinary person ⁸ ” (Snara.is, n.d.). Through his choice of words, he positions himself in the upper stratum of the hierarchy and class.

The minister of justice called the mistaken identity “unfortunate” ⁹ in an interview with MBL, urging the public to show the police understanding because they were looking for a dangerous individual. He further added that it was the police’s task to keep the public safe, and these types of mistakes can happen under high tensions (Þorláksson, 2022). The minister of justice stressed the importance of learning from the case to improve protocols. However, in an interview with VISIR, he rejected claims of racism, stating that this case was evidence that the police were not racist (Ólafsdóttir and Proppé, 2022).

Once again, the counterclaim comes from the position of power within the upper echelon of claim-making and social hierarchy. Politicians are uniquely positioned to influence and act on social problems directly. In this case, however, the counterclaim was that the social problem does not exist, and thus no changes are necessary (Loseke, 2003).

Discussion and conclusion

Grounded in narrative criminology (Sandberg, 2016), this paper explored Icelandic media’s portrayal of a 20-year-old Black man who escaped police custody in 2022. Throughout the coverage, the individual was consistently referred to as “the fugitive,” reflecting the media’s framing of the incident as an urgent public concern involving a dangerous criminal on the run. We examined the media “storytelling” of the individual, the police response, and perceptions of danger, criminality, and race. The paper contributed to the literature by addressing a significant gap in research on crime-related media discourse in Iceland, a setting that remained largely underexplored in the international criminological literature. It also extended theoretical discussions of narrative criminology by demonstrating how mediated crime stories operated, particularly in moments of perceived crisis.

The first act of the narrative began with the police’s announcement about the escape, portraying him as a dangerous criminal, a crisis requiring urgent resolution. The narrative centred on the fugitive’s alleged threat to public safety, encouraging public vigilance and cooperation. This reflected Loseke's (2003) and Presser's (2018) arguments that negative emotions, such as fear, anger, and threat, serve as powerful motivational frames and are particularly effective in mobilizing public action. The fugitive’s character was reduced to a villain, only capable of harming and terrorizing the public. Thus, the public was mobilized through emotions and made an active partner in crime control. This partnership between the state and citizens reflected a broader societal trend where responsibility for public safety is increasingly shared, often under the guise of moral duty (Garland, 1996; Hier, 2008). By labelling the fugitive as dangerous, the media constructed a moral duty for the public to aid the authorities. The state outsourced part of its crime control responsibilities to the public, aligning individual actions with broader state goals.

The second act began with an unexpected shift in the story. Based on public tips, the police, on two separate occasions, intervened with the same innocent teenager who, like the fugitive, is Black. The mistaken identity brought issues of race and racial profiling to the forefront of public discussion. The incident came to symbolise a broader problem in Icelandic society, both individual-level racism and racial biases within institutions. The claim of systemic racial bias in policing echoed a prior controversy, in which a police officer was photographed wearing allegedly racist patches on their uniform (Ólafsdóttir and Yaghi, 2020).

The media acted as a secondary claim-maker, using public outrage and social media commentary to construct a narrative of systemic racial bias in policing. The teenager became a symbol of innocence and victimhood, contrasting sharply with the fugitive’s portrayal as a villain. This binary opposition fuelled emotional reactions—sympathy for the Black teenager and anger toward the police. Again, social problem claims often depend on emotional and cultural resonance to gain traction (Loseke’s, 2003). The incident of mistaken identity by the police and the subsequent narrative of racial profiling by the police led to the third act of the story, creating moral boundaries between those who claimed that the police were racist and those who denied such accusations.

The third act featured counterclaims from figures of authority, including police officials, politicians, and an academic expert. These counterclaims sought to refute allegations of racial profiling, framing the incidents as unfortunate but inevitable consequences of high-pressure situations. For example, the national commissioner of the police emphasized that the mistaken apprehensions resulted from public tips, thereby deflecting responsibility onto the public. The assistant to the minister of justice compared the experiences of a teenager of color in an almost all white society to the experiences of people with red hair, questioning the motives of those wanting to discuss racial bias in Icelandic society. The media bolstered these counterclaims by highlighting statements from individuals with high claim-making credibility, such as criminologists and government officials. This reflects findings by McMullan (2006) and Loseke (2003) that claims are more likely to be accepted when endorsed by authoritative figures.

For a claim to be recognized as a social problem, it must persuade the right audience. While the public expressed outrage online, it was ultimately decision-makers higher up in the claim-making hierarchy, such as politicians, police officials, and credentialed experts, who seemed unconvinced by the accusations. Consequently, the outrage was short-lived once the fugitive was apprehended. Claims tend to have a greater impact when they come from those in positions of authority or from well-organized grassroots movements that can present a clear and compelling motivational frame.

The media narrative ended when the fugitive was apprehended. The coda, or story’s conclusion, occurred later when the police admitted that they made some mistakes but also attributed responsibility to the public. The police’s main takeaway from the case was that they should always move convicts in handcuffs en route to court. At the same time, they categorically rejected allegations of racial profiling and systematic racism, citing public involvement, internal rules of conduct, and diversity seminars for officers. Most people, or perhaps the right people, seemed to passively accept this recount of events.

In conclusion, this study has examined how Icelandic online media narrated the 2022 fugitive case, illustrating how crime stories can mobilize public participation in crime control and reflect broader societal dynamics. While focused on a single case, the analysis offers insight into how, in an increasingly diverse Icelandic society, crime narratives can activate public emotion, shape perceptions of justice, and expose underlying social tensions. Our analysis showed that the public was mobilized through emotionally charged narratives that framed the fugitive as a public threat, invoking fear and moral duty to encourage public vigilance and cooperation. In doing so, the state effectively outsourced crime control to citizens, positioning them as active participants in maintaining public safety. The findings also showed that the story became a platform for broader moral and political claims through a narrative shift triggered by the police’s mistaken identity. This shift introduced emotionally resonant symbols—innocence, injustice, and institutional bias—that aligned with culturally recognizable social problems, enabling the media and the public to construct claims about systemic racism. However, the durability of such claims depended on narrative authority and institutional legitimacy, which ultimately favored counterclaims that neutralized the political charge and restored the dominant order.

Importantly, whether the young fugitive posed a real threat is neither something we can determine nor the focus of this study. Rather, our interest lies in how narratives of danger and crisis were constructed and how they mobilized public engagement through emotional and moral appeals. We also acknowledge that the media operates within a competitive digital landscape, where stories emphasizing threat and conflict are likely to capture attention. However, in line with our previous discussion, such framing may have broader social consequences.