Bootleggers on Prime Time: How ‘Moonshiners’ Stars Digger Mains & Mark Ramsey Keep Dodging Arrests While Flouting The Law

When two men become television celebrities for doing something that’s supposed to be illegal—yet never getting arrested—it raises urgent questions.

That’s exactly the case with “Moonshiners” stars Eric “Digger” Mains and Mark Ramsey, whose moonshine-making antics have racked up ratings and intrigued the public, while official intervention seems mysteriously absent.

Digger, who grew up in Newport, Tennessee, learned the craft of moonshine as a teenager with encouragement from a local still-builder.

He later held down a “respectable” job at his family’s funeral home by day and indulged his fascination with traditional Appalachian distilling by night.

Meanwhile, Mark grew up in East Tennessee’s forests, building stills and honing his expertise in copper-bottomed large-capacity rigs.

Their separate paths converged when they both worked alongside legendary moonshiner Marvin “Popcorn” Sutton—Mark as an actual still-builder and Digger as an assistant—forming what many insiders describe as an equal partnership rather than a mentor-protégé setup.

In 2011, Discovery’s “Moonshiners” premiered, offering viewers a dramatic, frequently staged look at the craft of illegal distilling in the Appalachian mountains.

Digger and Mark joined in Season 4; their arrival reportedly boosted ratings.

“When the leaves were full, we began filming,” Digger once said, referencing how foliage served as camouflage for the “operation.”

A crucial tension underlies the show’s appeal: while Digger and Mark appear on camera building stills, hauling gallons of moonshine, and elaborately evading law enforcement, there is no clear record of either man being arrested for distilling.

Many viewers wonder: how is it possible to depict illegal liquor making for years on prime time television without prosecutions?

According to analysis, much of the production is “docudrama,” meaning that while the characters may be real, the actual actions are heavily staged—or legal distilling operations masquerading as illegal.

Local authorities in Virginia even stated in 2012 that if illegal activity were actually ongoing, they would have intervened.

Still, rumors persist that in the Season 14 finale, Digger and Mark came under surveillance and were allegedly handcuffed after a truck search revealed a still.

Yet further reports clarify the still was rendered inoperable and no formal charges were reported.

Part of the show’s ethos is a romanticized version of moonshining: Digger consistently insisted that his interest wasn’t just about making extra money, but admiration for the old-timers in his town who kept a craft that fed their communities and managed to stay “reliable pillars.”

For Mark, the focus lay in perfecting still design and technique, earning himself the moniker “King of Tinkering.”

Yet the show’s glamorous portrayal of illicit liquor-making raises ethical and legal questions: Are the men glorifying illegal behavior?

Are producers exploiting legend without facing actual consequences?

And most importantly: Why continue filming underwater-the-radar operations on camera if there is a real law-enforcement risk?

While depicted as backwoods renegades, Digger and Mark also partnered with legal distilleries—most notably Sugarlands Distilling Company in Gatlinburg.

The paradox is sharp: participating in a licensed enterprise while years of illegal distilling are repeatedly shown on camera.

This dual identity—outlaw persona by night, corporate-approved distiller by day—helps explain how arrests have been avoided.

The entertainment value of moonshining is arguably more valuable (to the network) than actual law enforcement risk.

Viewers get adrenaline, producers get content, and local authorities arguably get tax income if the legal business is connected.

Sources increasingly note that the series does not depict live illegal activity but dramatized content, sometimes with stills filled with “water” instead of real mash.

The Virginia Alcoholic Beverage Control stated that they were not aware of active illegal operations tied to the show.

Still, the depiction of chase sequences, law evasion, and midnight runs feed into a public fascination with outlaw culture.

Whether Digger and Mark are truly bootlegging or simply acting the part, the audience response is visceral: “They’re making us believe the show is dangerous,” one fan wrote.

But many skeptics ask: “If this was real, why haven’t they been arrested?”

The case of Digger Mains and Mark Ramsey illustrates a triangular tension: heritage crafts turned into reality-TV spectacle, legality turned into brand marketing, and illicit legend turned into corporate asset.

They figure as folk heroes in the modern “smoke-and-copper” mythology—but perhaps never quite as fugitives of the law.

In the end, the bigger scandal might not be moonshine at all—but how entertainment repackages illegality for ratings while operating within the legal safety net.

Digger and Mark promise “the next five years” of change in the moonshine world—perhaps legalizing their legacy, perhaps maintaining the outlaw myth—but one thing remains clear: the cameras keep rolling, the stills keep bubbling, and the authorities keep… quiet.

For viewers, the question is no longer just how they make the shine, but why no one busts them doing it.

And until that gap closes, the legend of “Moonshiners” will continue to blur the line between backwoods rebellion and televisual drama.