Who Do We Call a Predator?
When language reveals, and conceals, real danger.
Posted November 13, 2025 | Reviewed by Lybi Ma
Christina Fultz spent four years searching for answers about what happened to her mother, Gloria Lofton . When she was found dead in her Austin, Texas, bedroom in May 2019, detectives noticed odd marks on her head and neck that didn’t fit the position she was found in. The medical examiner thought strangulation was a possibility, but ruled the death undetermined. A sexual assault kit yielded a DNA match to convicted killer Raul Meza Jr. in 2020; nothing was done. Fultz wouldn't learn the truth until May 2023, when Meza called authorities and confessed to strangling her mother to death during a sexual assault.
By then, 62-year-old Meza had murdered 80-year-old Jesse Fraga, an ex-probation officer who had befriended him. Years earlier, in 1982, he had been convicted of sexually assaulting and strangling 8-year-old Kendra Page . He was sentenced to 30 years but released after serving only 11. When arrested in 2023, police found him carrying a backpack containing zip ties, duct tape, a handgun, and a condom, which investigators called a "kill kit." He told investigators he was "ready and prepared to kill again."
District attorneys, victims' families, and media all used the same word to describe him: predator.
But what exactly does that mean? When does someone who kills or harms cross the line into predatory behavior? And why does the distinction matter?
What Actually Defines a Predator
To answer those questions, forensic psychologists have studied the biological and behavioral differences between two fundamentally different types of violence : affective violence, which tends to be reactive, impulsive, emotionally driven, and predatory violence, which is instrumental, planned, and emotionally detached. Four decades of research have established specific criteria for telling them apart. Reid Meloy of UC San Diego identifies 10 specific criteria , and when you look at Raul Meza's decades-long pattern, you see all of them.
First, predators plan. Predatory violence isn't reactive. It's purposeful, with well-thought-out motives and plans. While someone committing affective violence might publicly posture and threaten, predators engage in private rituals: surveillance of the target, gathering materials, and rehearsal. During the attack itself, they maintain focused awareness rather than the altered consciousness or dissociation common in emotional violence.
Meza had cultivated a friendship with Jesse Fraga, moved into the 80-year-old's home, gained his trust, and then killed him. After his 1993 release from prison, Meza spent three decades operating undetected while suspected in 10 additional homicides. That's not luck; that's refinement.
Second, predators hunt specific prey. They assess and select victims based on vulnerability markers: isolation, physical limitations, emotional neediness, access, and unlikelihood of being believed. The goals may vary, but they’re calculated: sexual gratification, financial profit, power and control, and elimination of witnesses.
Look at Meza's victim selection: an 8-year-old child riding her bicycle alone at an elementary school. A 65-year-old woman living by herself. An 80-year-old man who had befriended him and offered housing. Each represented physical vulnerability combined with isolation—precisely what predators seek. His confession revealed financial motives in Lofton's murder, demonstrating the instrumental calculation behind his choices.
Research confirms this pattern. Individuals with psychopathic traits often show enhanced ability to perceive vulnerability and distress in potential victims. In my evaluations, I've encountered individuals who could articulate their victim selection process in disturbing detail, explaining exactly why they chose particular targets and what made them vulnerable. That calculated assessment is what separates predatory behavior from opportunistic crime .
Third, predators feel nothing during the act. This is perhaps the most striking characteristic: minimal autonomic arousal, no conscious emotion , no subjective experience of anger or fear . The behavior is emotionally detached—a cognitive attack rather than an emotional defense. Mass murderers and serial killers consistently report feeling nothing during their crimes. Eyewitness accounts describe them as calm, deliberate, and methodical. This calmness serves an evolutionary function—emotional arousal would interfere with the stealth and precision required to capture prey.
These three characteristics—instrumental planning, calculated victim selection, and emotional detachment—can all be present in a single offense. While predators like Meza often engage in repeated offending over time, repetition isn't required for identification. The FBI found that 62 percent of active shooters spent one to 24 months planning their attacks, single incidents demonstrating all the hallmarks of predation. A sexual offender who meticulously grooms a child over months, plans to avoid detection, and executes with emotional detachment is engaging in predatory behavior even if caught after one offense.
Meza's case demonstrates how repetition strengthens the identification. Three confirmed murders across 41 years—Kendra Page in 1982, Gloria Lofton in 2019, Jesse Fraga in 2023—plus suspected involvement in 10 additional homicides. Each offense was itself predatory in execution. The 1982 murder of an 8-year-old showed planning and calculation. The 2019 murder showed the same. In 2023, he was still carrying his kill kit, still prepared for the next one.
When the Label Gets Misused
The term "predator" carries enormous legal weight. It appears in sexual offender registration, civil commitment proceedings, and sentencing enhancements. But when applied too broadly, we compromise both public safety and individual rights.
Consider juvenile sex offenders. Research shows juveniles who commit sexual offenses have remarkably low sexual recidivism rates, approximately 5 to 7 percent over five years. Certainly, a 15-year-old who commits a single impulsive sexual assault needs to experience the consequences of his acts. But he needs a different intervention than a predatory offender. Yet courts sometimes label these juveniles as "predators," subjecting them to lifetime registration.
When we mislabel low-risk offenders as predators, we dilute the warning signal, misallocate law enforcement resources, and compromise violence risk assessment.
Why Precision Protects Victims
Raul Meza killed at least three people over four decades while demonstrating all the characteristics of predatory violence: calculated, emotionless planning, targeted victim selection, to meet specific, instrumental goals. That's predatory behavior.
The word “predator: comes from the Latin term praedātor: hunter. When applied to humans, it suggests that the offender not only harms others but also hunts them. In forensic psychology, that distinction influences risk assessment, treatment recommendations, civil commitment decisions, and resource allocation.
Precision in identifying predatory behavior protects vulnerable people and provides justice for victims. It also helps keep our community safer by targeting the subset of offenders who will wreak the most havoc. When we call e veryone a predator, we may miss the actual ones operating in plain sight.
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Joni E. Johnston , Psy.D , is a clinical/forensic psychologist, private investigator, author, and host of the YouTube channel and podcast "Unmasking a Murderer."
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This article is part of the Bringwise Psychology Journal — daily insights on human behavior, mental health, and personal growth.