

The classic television show “Columbo,” like the great novel “Crime and Punishment,” is a classic, and rightfully so, because it too penetrates to the heart of a modern heresy and exposes it for the lie that it is. This is the Nietzschean idea of the “ubermensch”: the superman who can transcend ordinary law.
Selecting a book from my library for an upcoming long flight, I took down a new translation of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment by Oliver Ready. The language is fresh and vibrant, and the pacing is fast and page-turning. With copious notes it is also a scholarly and well-rounded translation. But in re-reading the classic, Dostoevsky’s police inspector Porfiry Petrovich reminded me of the TV detective Columbo, played by Peter Falk.
A bit of research confirmed my hunch. It turns out that Columbo creators Richard Levinson and William Link explicitly stated that Lieutenant Columbo was partially inspired by Porfiry Petrovich.
Here’s how: Both Porfiry and Columbo present themselves as disarming and unthreatening. Porfiry, with his relaxed, almost jovial manner, engages Raskolnikov in seemingly innocuous conversations, while Columbo’s friendly manner, polite flattery, rumpled appearance, and apparent absent-mindedness lull suspects into underestimating him.
Both Porfiry and Columbo excel at psychological manipulation. Porfiry engages Raskolnikov in intellectual discussions and probing questions in order to unsettle him, thereby exploiting his guilt and paranoia. Similarly, Columbo employs his “just one more thing” tactic, asking seemingly trivial questions that gradually trap suspects by exposing inconsistencies or provoking confessions. Like Porfiry, Columbo asks key questions at just the right time in order to unsettle his suspects and increase their feelings of guilt and fear.
Both detectives play up their perceived incompetence to gain an advantage. Porfiry acts as if he’s merely musing or confused, which encourages Raskolnikov to reveal more than he intends. Columbo’s bumbling persona masks his sharp intellect, leading suspects to lower their guard.
Columbo and Porfiry unlock the case with an initial, seemingly inconsequential clue. Porfiry suspects Raskolnikov because he is the one pawner who does not initially come to the police to claim his property after the murder of the old pawnbroker. Likewise Columbo’s first clue is often the piece of the puzzle that is missing rather than the piece that is present.
Both engage in a prolonged cat-and-mouse game with their suspects. Porfiry’s conversations with Raskolnikov are a battle of wits, in which he plants doubts and waits for Raskolnikov to crack. Columbo similarly hounds his suspects, circling back with relentless little questions until they lose their cool and begin to falter.
Most importantly, both inspectors focus on the suspect’s status as an extraordinary person who thinks himself above the law. Raskolnikov sees himself as an extraordinary intellectual—a Napoleonic figure who is entitled to transgress the laws for a higher goal. While Columbo’s suspects are rarely philosophical about their superiority, his murderers are always out of the top drawer; they are more talented, aristocratic, wealthier, or more powerful than the ordinary man. Both detectives use the hubris of the extraordinary man to trap their killer.
It is this final point that makes Crime and Punishment one of those classics to return to, and why despite the 1970s California settings, the re-runs of Columbo remain so popular. Streaming services report steady consumption of Columbo episodes, and the series has been syndicated in 44 countries, with notable popularity in places like Romania and Hungary, where a statue of Columbo was unveiled in 2014.
So Columbo, like Crime and Punishment, is a classic, and rightfully so because it too penetrates to the heart of a modern heresy and exposes it for the lie that it is. This is the Nietzschean idea of the ubermensch—the superman who can transcend ordinary law. Nietzsche formalized the idea later in Thus Spoke Zarathustra, but Dostoevsky has Raskolnikov echoing proto-Nietzschean concepts: the utilitarian and Hegelian theories abroad in nineteenth-century Russia.
Columbo deflates the arrogance of his suspects; in the final scene each murderer is humbled. So Dostoevsky critiques the superman heresy by showing that Raskolnikov does not have the emotional fortitude to live with his irrevocable act. His final humiliation (and salvation) is to accept the unconditional love of Sonya and to pursue the path of repentance and reparation.
And just one more thing… for those who like unexpected connections. Columbo creators Levinson and Link also acknowledge their debt to another detective much loved by Imaginative Conservatives: G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown.
Fr Brown, like Columbo, is a meek and unassuming character. Like Columbo, he gets his man through an understanding of human nature, psychological motivation, keen observation, and an ability to be wise as a serpent and harmless as a dove.
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The featured image, uploaded by Illustratedjc, is a photograph, “Detail of Géza Dezső Fekete’s statue of Columbo on Falk Miksa utca in Budapest.” This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license., courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.