I’ve always been fascinated by cases where killers hide in plain sight. Not in a “wow, cool murder skills” way (ew), but in a “how did our systems fail so catastrophically?” way. And let me tell you, the Robert Pickton case is basically the poster child for systemic failure.
For those who don’t know (and honestly, I’m jealous of your blissful ignorance), Robert Pickton was a pig farmer in Port Coquitlam, British Columbia who murdered at least 26 women between 1978 and 2001. Though he later bragged to an undercover officer that the real number was 49.
(Just let that sink in for a minute. Forty-nine human beings.)
The most infuriating part? Pickton should have been caught years earlier. The red flags weren’t just flapping in the wind—they were practically slapping investigators in the face.
The Victims Nobody Looked For
Pickton specifically targeted women from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside—an area plagued by poverty, addiction, and sex work. Many of his victims were Indigenous women, a demographic that has historically received less attention from both law enforcement and media.
When these women disappeared, the response was… crickets. Or worse, assumptions that they’d simply moved away or overdosed somewhere. Because apparently when marginalized women vanish, it’s just Tuesday.
My husband Ryan (who tolerates my murder obsessions with the patience of a saint) once asked why I was so angry about this case. “Because it’s the perfect storm of every societal failure possible,” I snapped, while aggressively highlighting yet another missed opportunity in the case file.
Police Failures That Would Be Comical If They Weren’t So Tragic
In 1997—FIVE YEARS before Pickton was finally arrested—he was charged with attempting to murder a sex worker at his farm. The woman escaped after they got into a knife fight, despite being stabbed multiple times. She ran to the road, bleeding profusely, and flagged down a car.
The charges were dropped because prosecutors deemed the victim “not credible” due to her drug use.
(I’m sorry, but WHAT? She showed up with STAB WOUNDS and correctly identified her attacker, but sure, let’s focus on her credibility issues.)
After this incident, police had Pickton on their radar but did basically nothing. Different police departments failed to communicate effectively, tips went uninvestigated, and search warrant opportunities were missed. It was like watching a horror movie where you’re screaming “DON’T GO IN THERE” at the screen, except it was real life and the consequences were devastating.
The Pig Farm From Hell
When police finally searched Pickton’s farm in 2002, they found what can only be described as a house of horrors. The investigation into Robert Pickton became the largest serial killer investigation in Canadian history, costing nearly $70 million and involving extensive forensic work.
Investigators found DNA evidence from numerous victims, personal items belonging to missing women, and—I hope you’re not eating—human remains that had been fed to his pigs. Some victims’ remains were mixed with pig meat in freezers intended for human consumption.
(I’ve been vegetarian for years, but this case would have converted me instantly if I wasn’t already.)
Why This Matters Beyond True Crime Fascination
The Pickton case isn’t just about one depraved killer. It’s about how our society values—or fails to value—certain lives. The Canadian Encyclopedia’s coverage of the Pickton case details how this tragedy exposed deep-rooted issues of systemic racism, classism, and sexism in law enforcement.
The case led to a government inquiry that identified “blatant failures” by police and recommended sweeping changes to how missing persons cases are handled, especially those involving marginalized individuals.
For those interested in researching historical cases like this one and their impact on modern justice systems, National History Day offers resources for examining how past events continue to shape our present.
What’s Changed (And What Hasn’t)
Today, police departments have better DNA technology, improved inter-agency communication, and (supposedly) more sensitivity training regarding marginalized communities. But ask any advocate for missing and murdered Indigenous women if enough has changed, and you’ll likely get a resounding “no.”
The Pickton case should have been a watershed moment for law enforcement. In some ways it was—but the underlying biases that allowed him to operate for so long still exist in various forms.
So the next time you hear about a missing person case that seems to be getting minimal attention, ask yourself: would this investigation look different if the victim came from a different neighborhood, had a different skin color, or worked a different job?
Because Robert Pickton didn’t elude capture through criminal genius. He eluded capture because society had already decided his victims weren’t worth looking for.
And that’s the most chilling part of all.