68 pages • 2 hours read
Gretchen McNeilA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: The source material includes descriptions of abduction, torture, murder, and graphic violence, as well as sexual references, objectification, and harassment.
Dee’s raison d’être, the purpose that keeps her alive on Alcatraz 2.0, is her burning desire to reveal the truth about her innocence and bring Monica’s murderer to justice. This mission fuels Dee’s efforts to survive and informs her interactions with the others on the island. To succeed, Dee must define justice for herself and learn that truth requires trust. Dee’s perseverance against all odds shows her grit and the strength of her beliefs.
Dee initially fears “normalization” on Alcatraz 2.0. She thinks it would be easy to slip into island life and “embrace this role” the Postman has given her (58). Despite Griselda’s advice to accept her fast-approaching death, however, Dee chooses to “rage against the dying of the light” as poet Dylan Thomas urged (Thomas, Dylan. “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.” Poets.org). Dee wants to stay alive to find Monica’s killer and prove her innocence. To do so, Dee must find the inner strength and confidence to fulfill her quest.
Dee empowers herself by taking as much control of her life as possible. She reimagines the princess role as powerful, rather than weak, thinking, “Maybe this princess thing wouldn’t be so bad after all? They were strong girls who defeated seemingly insurmountable evils” (71). Dee rejects the Postman’s seemingly all-encompassing control of the inmates and finds ways to rebel. She initially refuses to care whether the cameras are also picking up audio, saying, “Freedom of speech was one of the few things still in her power,” and later uses the Postman’s surveillance system to trick him (71).
Dee admires those, like her, who resist the Postman’s control however they can. Dee thinks that Blair’s refusal to struggle and satisfy Gucci “was a ballsy thing to do, an act of resistance, and Dee deeply admired her for it” (87). Blair’s defiance inspires Dee, who wants to “go out swinging” rather than passively accepting her fate (122). Dee also appreciates Griselda’s snark, which is her own brand of defiance. Dee’s fighting attitude shows her courage and her commitment to the truth. It also reveals her passionate sense of fairness: She begins to realize that no one deserves death by serial killer.
Dee’s righteous anger at her unjust conviction, Monica’s murder, and the corruption on Alcatraz 2.0 reflects her strong sense of justice. Even before arriving on Alcatraz 2.0, Dee had been one of few in America who “refused to watch” the Postman app, doubting whether murders for “America’s amusement” were ethical and whether they dispensed true justice (3). While Dee concedes that “technically” the executions were just, “this kind of justice made Dee’s skin crawl” (72). Blair’s death helps Dee realize that no one deserves such ignominious treatment.
The United States is part of two international treaties that restrict how capital punishment is enacted, one of which states that executions must “cause the least possible physical and mental suffering” (“Human Rights and US Executions: Methods of Execution and International Law.” Death Penalty Information Center). Dee objects to the cruel, unusual, and demeaning public executions on Alcatraz 2.0, as well as the injustice of innocent deaths. Nevertheless, Dee does not specifically object to capital punishment. Her comment “There’s no justice here, no eye for an eye. The only one guilty of murder is the Postman” suggests that Dee is not opposed to the Old Testament method of justice, where the punishment fits the crime. (267). Dee believes that the serial killers deserve death, admitting that “the world was better off without them” (291). Murderers may deserve capital punishment, but not in a physically and emotionally painful drama in front of raucous crowds or online viewers.
Dee’s commitment to justice extends even to the Painiacs. Despite her hatred for Kimmi, Dee wants “to stop Kimmi, restrain her so she could be tried and punished for her crimes” (333), and she gives Molly Mauler the chance to surrender. True justice is fair and impartial. Dee ultimately understands that justice is not what the Postman metes out through his dramatic public executions via serial killer.
Other characters have differing views of justice. Monica and Blair also admit to doubts, but Monica rationalizes, “It’s okay because they’re murderers…right?” and accepts Dee’s noncommittal answer that “it’s the law” (72). Similarly, Blair initially believes that the Postman’s plan “seemed fair. When you considered what heinous things those people had done” (44). Many of those on the comment feed agree that executing the inmates of Alcatraz 2.0 is morally right, but at heart, they are more interested in the entertainment value of the deaths. One comments that while Jeremy was justly killed trying to escape, they missed the spectacle of an execution, saying, “I mean, I’m glad he’s dead. Can’t avoid justice, Jeremy. But I still feel cheated” (49). These viewpoints all contrast with and help form Dee’s definition of true justice.
Dee’s self-empowerment, defiance, and evolving sense of justice and injustice all help her persevere in her quest for truth and accountability. Part of finding the truth, however, involves Dee extending her trust to others, something she has trouble doing. Dee initially refuses to trust the others and focuses on her self-preservation, saying, ‘“She needed to stay alive, and in order to do that, the only person she could give a shit about was herself” (33). In contrast, Nyles, Ethan, and even Griselda trust Dee quickly. Dee recognizes that to achieve her goals, she needs the others’ help. As she comes to trust them, she realizes she must tell the truth about her past. Dee ostensibly keeps secrets to protect the others, though as Nyles notes, she “endangered [them] anyway” (271). When the others risk themselves to help her, Dee recognizes that trust is a two-way street, and requires truth, not secrets. She realizes they deserve to know why the Postman targeted them because of her.
Throughout the novel, Dee stays focused on her end goals: truth and justice. Her physical and emotional courage and her willingness to risk her life for the truth help her succeed in vindicating herself and her friends, finding justice for her sister’s death, and bringing justice and accountability to Alcatraz 2.0.
An important theme in the novel focuses on the dangers of privatizing the prison system and the political corruption that can accompany privatization. Transferring government power to the private sector, as in the US president giving total control of capital inmates to the Postman, creates environments ripe for civil rights abuses and illicit financial gain. McNeil uses #MurderTrending to illustrate an extreme example of what can go wrong when democracy sells out.
Privatization of the United States prison system is growing. According to the Sentencing Project, “Twenty-seven states and the federal government incarcerated 96,370 people in private prisons in 2021, representing 8% of the total state and federal prison population” (Budd, Kristen M., and Niki Monazzam. “Private Prisons in the United States.” The Sentencing Project.com, 15 June 2023). Advocates of privatization say that it provides more local jobs, can increase safety for staff and inmates by reducing overpopulation in state and federal prisons, and offers more programs to reduce recidivism. Those who oppose prison privatization point to the potential for corruption and bribery, decreases in accountability, and increases in incentives to provide worse conditions for both inmates and correctional officers. Private prisons also have a potentially disproportionate degree of authority over their prisoners. As one author observes, “Private prison officers judge when prisoners commit an infraction and when to impose punishment, and they provide advice to parole boards” (Cordelli, Chiara. “Why Privatization Is Wrong.” Boston Review, 24 Nov. 2020).
#MurderTrending dramatizes the dangers of privatization. The creation of Alcatraz 2.0 is suspect from the start: a shady agreement made by a disreputable reality-TV-star president and a powerful, wealthy, anonymous TV magnate. In 2016, President Barack Obama began eliminating private prisons, but the subsequent Trump administration rescinded the policy. Notably, Trump was president when #MurderTrending was published in 2018, and McNeil’s digs at the president in the novel and extreme example of a private prison gone wrong suggest she is referring to Trump and his policies.
The Postman has total authority over Alcatraz 2.0 itself and offers little external transparency. He controls what the world sees of the prison. The president has given him “carte blanche” (118). The Postman has no government oversight, and his only checks and balances are the app’s ratings and profit. The Postman’s reach even extends off the island. Dee knows that “[p]eople who didn’t enjoy the Postman were considered anti-American or plain crazy, so it was easier to play along” (28). Through the moderators on the app’s forums, the Postman censors negative comments, cutting off the Griff’s warnings by arguing that the forum is “not a sounding board for antigovernment conspiracy theories” (221). Speaking up against or disagreeing with the Postman implies that one is a troublemaker, rebel, or iconoclast. The threat of retribution for dissent is real, as Dee warns viewers: “And if we could end up sentenced here…so could you. So could any of you” (267). As the reigning “monarch” of Alcatraz 2.0 and the communities of fans, the Postman’s power flies in the face of the core principles of American free speech.
#MurderTrending depicts a logical, if extreme, outcome of allowing capitalism to become entangled with the justice system. Since the Alcatraz 2.0 project derives its profit from audience engagement, there is a strong incentive to give the audience what they want. In the novel, what the audience wants are young, attractive, compelling inmates and over-the-top executions. The most important member of that audience, the president, enforces those incentives: “Bad ratings meant bad profits, which meant an unhappy president of the United States” (118). The Postman muses, “Profit was all [the president] cared about” (118), and Nyles observes that he had “never seen a death on Alcatraz two-point-oh go unpublicized. Or unmonetized” (212). To achieve the results that the president, government, and audience want, the Postman engages in bribery and false accusations, with the complicity of people such as Dr. Farooq who are supposed to ensure that the innocent are vindicated and the guilty are punished.
The Postman operates under the government’s blessing, revealing corruption and complicity at the highest level. The privatization of the prison system, placing power in the private sector with no oversight or accountability, allows this corruption to occur.
Alcatraz 2.0 is an extreme example of the dangers of privatizing the American penal system: the exploitation of prisoners, corruption, abuse of power, illegal profiteering, and the erosion of democratic principles.
#MurderTrending takes capital punishment to a new level. Historically, executions were intended to entertain and subdue the masses, reminding them of who had the power to make and enforce rules. The Postman app turns capital punishment into an ongoing reality show, “scripting” inmates’ remaining days and murdering them in morbidly spectacular style. By changing occasional executions to a 24-7 social media broadcast, the Postman both normalizes and sensationalizes death, resulting in users’ emotional and moral desensitization. The app dehumanizes the inmates, allowing users to see them as characters playing a role rather than fellow humans. McNeil explores how social media contributes to users’ detachment from reality and empathy.
People watch horror films and read horror novels for different reasons. Horror stories can be cathartic, helping readers release their fears and anxieties from a position of safety. In “Why We Crave Horror Movies,” an essay first published in Playboy in 1981, horror author Stephen King explains: “The fun comes from seeing others menaced—sometimes killed. One critic has suggested that if pro football has become the voyeur’s version of combat, then the horror film has become the modern version of the public lynching” (King, Stephen. “Why We Crave Horror Movies.” University of Massachusetts Lowell). Watching death and violence can be both entertaining and emotionally fulfilling. King argues that the “potential lyncher is in almost all of us (excluding saints, past and present; but then, most saints have been crazy in their own ways), and every now and then, he has to be let loose to scream and roll around in the grass” (King). Horror stories allow consumers to safely, temporarily, release their dark sides.
Watching fictional murders may be fun and freeing, but watching nonstop loops of real executions, or “snuff films,” as Dee calls the videos on the Postman app, leads to desensitization. The Postman app makes the users observers, allowing them distance from the violence. It also allows users to feel morally superior to the inmates, whom they feel deserve gruesome deaths. Prisoners become objects. They are goods rather than individuals: “inventory,” or “a commodity.” The app dehumanizes the inmates, which contributes to fans’ desensitization. Nyles expresses this idea, saying that the fans “don’t want to humanize us…. If the fans internalize our struggle to stay alive, the ratings might go down” (30). Fans do not want to feel the inmates’ emotions.
The Postman controls his users as much as he controls the inmates on Alcatraz 2.0. Social media is the perfect venue to reach the maximum number of viewers across all demographics. A 2023 analysis of social media statistics reveals that 4.9 billion people around the world use social media across six to seven platforms. The most popular content, according to 66% of users, is short, shareable videos (Wong, Belle J. D., and Cassie Bottorff. “Top Social Media Statistics and Trends Of 2023.” Forbes Advisor, 18 May 2023). The Postman ensures that users see what he wants them to, expertly manipulating social media to maximize views, ratings, and profit.
Watching nonstop deaths and drama on social media contributes to users’ desensitization. Desensitization occurs when prolonged exposure to a type of content—murder, in this case—lessens one’s emotional response to murder. The Postman admits that the “novelty of live-streamed executions” wears off (118). Death becomes unremarkable. To keep social media users engaged, the Postman chooses inmates who are physically appealing, “straight out of central casting,” and creates “roles for the new arrivals, setting up relationships and dramas that would keep viewers hooked” (119,118). The inmates become more like fictional film characters. This distancing makes their murders safe, fun, and profitable, generating bets and merchandise. The app sells amusement and entertainment, not justice: The fans want kills. The Painiacs, legitimate villains, are celebrated as heroes. Comments on Blair’s decapitation reflect users’ desensitization. They give her the hashtag #AirBall, think she “crapped her pants” as she died, and add the hashtag “#deCRAPitation,” while others dismiss Gucci’s creativity, preferring Molly Mauler’s executions, which they crave “ANY DAY OF THE WEEK AND TWICE ON SUNDAY PLZ!” (91). The fans’ mockery of Blair’s death shows their distance from reality, their callous disregard for life, and their thirst for gruesome entertainment.
The Postman app encourages users’ emotional desensitization. Dee sums up the phenomenon nicely when she wonders, “What kind of a messed-up world were they living in where everyone watched in rapt attention while some sicko serial killers attempted to murder teenagers?” (193). #MurderTrending is a satisfying romp for horror fans who love dark humor, but also a cautionary tale warning against becoming numb to violence and indifferent to common humanity.