I used to be fascinated with the Mafia. I remember being on the east coast in the early/mid 1970s (having grown up in Tacoma, WA), and reading a Life magazine article about the New York Mafia. I realized that day I had a fascination of the mafia. But then in 1970 I had read "The Godfather", I had later seen the movie.
By the way, Trump booed and cheered at the Kennedy Center while attending ‘Les Misérables’ as he tightens his grip on the venerable performing arts institution. Near the end of the intermission, someone loudly cursed his name, drawing applause
Moving on...
While living in Manhattan in 1975, in talking to the manager of a Manhattan movie house (theater), he told a story of when "The Godfather" was first released. He said, "those Guys", putting his finger alongside his nose, bought out the last 2 rows of the theater for two weeks. Why? Because they loved that movie so much, they wanted to be able to drop in anytime during a showing and watch without any hassle.
It’s no secret that criminals, like everyone else, are shaped by the culture they consume. But history shows us something more specific: criminals often model themselves on the outlaws they see on screen. That image becomes their myth, their operating manual, and sometimes even their moral justification.
The Mafia of the 1940s and 1950s, for example, grew up on the fast-talking, trigger-happy gangsters of James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart, and Edward G. Robinson. The suits, the slang, the code of loyalty and betrayal—these weren’t just Hollywood tropes. They became part of the self-image of a generation of criminals who saw themselves as tough guys living by a code.
By the 1970s through the 1990s, a new crop of criminals emerged, deeply influenced by films like The Godfather, Scarface, Goodfellas, and Casino. These were movies that romanticized hierarchy, loyalty, and ruthless ambition. They didn’t just entertain; they offered a blueprint. Drug lords, mobsters, and even Wall Street fraudsters saw themselves as antiheroes playing out epic tragedies.
So what about today? What does the current media landscape tell us about the next generation of criminals—the ones who are coming up now and will be shaping the underworld over the next 10 to 20 years?
Branding Over Brotherhood
Today’s would-be criminals are growing up in a culture that prizes personal branding over loyalty. Social media platforms like TikTok and Instagram have created an environment where influence is currency. Expect modern criminals to act more like influencers than soldiers. They will be fluent in marketing their lifestyle, crafting personas, and monetizing notoriety.
Hustler Ethos Over Hierarchy
Forget the rigid family structures of La Cosa Nostra. The new criminal class is shaped by decentralized digital culture. Think freelance scammers, crypto con artists, and ransomware gangs. The model isn’t the mob boss anymore—it’s the hustler, the lone operator, or loosely affiliated online collective.
Digital Native Criminals
This generation isn’t just tech-literate; it’s tech-native. Raised on Mr. Robot, Breaking Bad, Ozark, and YouTube scam exposés, they understand how to move anonymously through digital landscapes. Expect sophisticated use of AI, blockchain, deepfakes, and data manipulation as standard criminal tools.
Performance of Power
Criminality is becoming performative. Influenced by public figures like Andrew Tate or fake gurus promising wealth and domination, crime is no longer just an enterprise—it’s content. These new actors don’t just break the law; they do it for the views, the likes, the followers. Their audience is their accomplice.
Blurred Morality & Gamification
Games like GTA and Call of Duty, along with anonymous online forums, have contributed to a mindset where real-world consequences feel abstract. Crime becomes a game. The moral compass is replaced by a scoreboard. The more audacious the act, the more "legendary" the persona.
What This Means for the Future
What’s the point of all this? It got me thinking—what will tomorrow’s criminals be like? Do we already have enough clues to foresee what we’ll be dealing with in the near future?
Tomorrow’s criminals won’t wear suits or meet in smoke-filled rooms. They might never meet in person at all. They’ll be operating from laptops, moving money through crypto wallets, building audiences while running scams in plain sight. They won’t see themselves as villains but as misunderstood entrepreneurs gaming a broken system.
Just as The Godfather helped define a generation of criminals with a code, today’s media is defining a new generation with no code at all—only ambition. And that makes them harder to detect, more adaptable, and potentially far more dangerous.
In the end, the culture we glorify today might be the criminal mindset we have to deal with tomorrow.
THAT BEING SAID!
Addendum: The Criminal Elite Goes Legit
But there’s an even more dangerous evolution happening in plain sight. The new criminal elite isn’t hiding in the underworld anymore—they’re stepping into the spotlight. Today, we see criminals not just modeling themselves on tech culture or hustler ethos, but actually entering politics, media, and global business with impunity.
The old-school gangster sought influence behind closed doors. Today’s elite seeks it at the podium. They walk into the White House, launch platforms, start political movements, and rebrand corruption as "savvy disruption."
Figures like Donald Trump, surrounded by loyalists with checkered pasts and questionable ethics, have normalized behavior once considered disqualifying. Meanwhile, tech titans and libertarian billionaires push boundaries with a mix of impunity and performance, often cloaking their actions in the language of free speech or market freedom.
These modern power players don’t fight the system. They buy it, bend it, or rebuild it in their image. The result? A fusion of criminality and legitimacy so seamless, the public can no longer tell the difference.
So yes, the future criminal isn’t just the hoodie-clad hacker. He may also be wearing a tailored suit, giving a TED Talk, or posing with a Bible outside a church. That’s the real danger: the outlaw becomes the lawmaker, and the system applauds while democracy erodes in plain sight.
Let’s not fool ourselves—tomorrow’s criminals aren’t just coming. Many are already here.
They wear suits, run corporations, hold office, and shape policy. The traits we once associated with shadowy figures outside the system are now found within it. From Congress to corporate boardrooms, from tech platforms to political podiums, the line between criminality and legitimacy is blurring.
And if we’re not careful, we won’t just be watching the rise of a new criminal class—we’ll be voting for them.
Compiled with aid of ChatGPT