Stealing: A Crime of Desperation or a Symptom of a Broken System?

Stealing Is Bad, and That’s That… Or Is It?

“Stealing is bad.” It’s drilled into us from the moment we can understand right and wrong. It’s a core tenet of most religious doctrines (if that’s your thing), the law, and also polite society. Theft, we’re told, is a moral failing - a marker of poor character and of even worse judgement. Thieves are “bad people.” End of discussion.

But pause for a moment. "Stealing is bad.” That’s what they tell you (and FUC me, who even are ‘they’?). Who decided this? Who benefits from such an absolute view of morality? Thieves are maligned, ostracised - branded as ‘bad people’ without a second thought. That’s a pretty broad generalisation, yeah? Disagree? By all means, enlighten me. Otherwise, go get FUCT.

But for now, let’s run a little thought experiment;

A man in a tailored suit manipulates corporate pension schemes, pocketing millions and leaving retirees scrambling for the basics. His reward? A slap on the wrist, a generous severance package, and, if we’re lucky, a contrived apology column in a national paper.

Meanwhile, a single parent, juggling multiple jobs that barely cover the cost of rent and utilities, nicks a loaf of bread, a few tins of beans and some squash to feed and water her hungry children - she’s on the poverty line and so are her family. Her reward? Arrest, perhaps a fine she can’t pay, and maybe a criminal record that will shadow her for the rest of thier life.

Who’s the real villain here? And why does society reserve its harshest judgement for the struggling parent while excusing the suited embezzler with a shrug and a muttered, “that’s business”?

Tell me again - who’s the real thief?

Two thieves in coloured balaclavas embracing. — Hug it out thieves, hug it out.

Crime Is Never Just About the Individual

When we talk about crime, we often frame it as a matter of personal choice. “Don’t steal, and you won’t get in trouble.” It’s succinct. Simple. Convenient. And… utterly wrong.

Crime doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s not a mystical force conjured by immoral minds. It’s a symptom - a response to inequality, desperation, and, in many cases, sheer survival instinct.

Take the case of Margaret ‘Maggie’ Duncan, a 63-year-old pensioner from Newcastle (UK). She had never committed a crime in her life. After her husband passed away, she struggled to cover basic bills on her state pension. One winter, with her heating shut off due to unpaid bills and barely any food left, she stole a tin of corned beef, a loaf of bread, and a carton of milk from a supermarket. The store security caught her, and despite explaining her situation, she was prosecuted. The court fined her £350 ($425) an amount she had no means to pay. Eventually, she was forced to borrow money from a loan shark, falling deeper into debt, just for the crime of trying to eat.

Here’s the bigger question - was Maggie a criminal, or was she simply a casualty of an economic system that failed to protect its most vulnerable?

Have some psyco-babble for a minute (indulge me?):

This is where sociology and psychology matter. We know from Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs that survival instincts override morality when people are truly desperate. When someone is faced with starvation, social shame, or even their children suffering, the rational part of the brain - the prefrontal cortex - takes a backseat.

Instead, the amygdala (responsible for fear, survival responses, and instinctual behaviour) dominates decision-making. At this point, morality isn’t even a consideration - just survival. (Yeah, I know some big words, who knew?... ahh sod off).

Humans lin a line of evolution in front of a setting sun. — Are we as evolved in our ways of thinking as we think we are?

The legal system doesn’t account for this. Instead of addressing the conditions that lead people to steal, it criminalises desperation.

And yet, corporate fraudsters - people who steal not out of need, but out of greed - are rarely given the same harsh penalties. We treat poverty-driven crime as a moral failure, while wealth-driven crime is dismissed as a technicality.

So, before we instinctively label thieves as criminals, we have to ask:

Are they acting immorally, or are they simply responding to a system that left them no alternative?

Crime doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s not a mystical force conjured by immoral minds. It’s a symptom - a response to inequality, desperation, and opportunity.

Consider this: areas with higher income inequality consistently report higher crime rates. It’s not just anecdotal; studies from the London School of Economics and The Equality Trust have hammered home this point for years. Yet we broadly persist with the myth that crime is solely about individual failings rather than societal conditions.

Let’s not pretend morality is universal. It’s contextual. It shifts with power, privilege, and perception.

Historical Hypocrisy: How We Punish Poverty

This isn’t a new phenomenon. Throughout history, the law has always been harsher on the powerless.

In Victorian Britain, children were transported to penal colonies for stealing bread - because, as now, the system cared more about protecting property than addressing the desperation that drove people to theft.

Fast-forward to the 1980s, and we see similar patterns. Mass unemployment and cuts to social support in the UK fuelled a spike in poverty-driven crime, but the government’s response wasn’t to tackle inequality - it was to adopt a “tough on crime” stance, demonising the very people their policies harmed.

And today? We still see the same pattern: shoplifters prosecuted, while a nefarious bank just gets fined for laundering billions gets to continue business as usual. And no, this isn’t a strike on big business or banks - just a stark example to make the point.

What if Stealing Isn’t Always Wrong?

Here’s where things get uncomfortable - because maybe stealing isn’t always bad.

Now, before you clutch your pearls, let’s be clear. We’re not talking about your mate Carl stealing a crate of beer from the shop for a laugh. We’re talking about people who steal because they have no choice.

The mother taking food for her child. The homeless man swiping a coat from a department store in the dead of winter. The teenager who nicks tampons because, in 2024, basic hygiene is still a luxury item (in this case: period poverty) for many.

If society has already failed these people, why are they the ones branded as criminals?

How much of the blame belongs to these people, and how much belongs to a society that lets them reach such desperation in the first place?

And What About Capitalism?

Let’s address the elephant in the room.

Capitalism isn’t inherently evil. It’s a tool - a system we’ve created to distribute goods and services and encourage competition and innovation. And let’s be real, it’s the best system we’ve come up with so far. That doesn’t mean it’s perfect - because it isn’t. How could it be, when it’s run by imperfect people with imperfect motives?

At its core, capitalism rewards those who already have capital. If you’re wealthy, you make money by investing, acquiring, and controlling. If you’re not, your only option is to trade your time - your most finite and irreplaceable resource - all for money. That’s not a flaw in capitalism itself, but it does mean that without checks and balances, wealth accumulates at the top while those at the bottom fight over scraps.

And let’s be clear - this isn’t an attack on businesses, entrepreneurs, or wealth itself. We need both, and wealth creation can benefit everyone when done fairly. But let’s not pretend that the system always operates fairly.

Woman holding some US change with a small note cusped in her hands reading "make a change" — Life isn't fair - so do we just sit down and take it, or fight back?

Here’s a thought:

In a capitalist system, if you don’t have capital, you work for someone who does. You trade your labour and skills for a fraction of the actual value you generate - because if businesses paid workers their true worth, they wouldn’t be profitable, they’d just break even. But breaking even isn’t enough in this system. A business must make a profit, which often means paying workers as little as they can get away with while extracting as much productivity as possible.

Now, some will say that’s just how the economy works. Fine. But here’s the real question - when does efficiency cross the line into exploitation?

A business owner who reinvests profits into better wages, fair conditions, and sustainable growth? That’s capitalism working well. A business that cuts wages, increases hours, and squeezes its workers while hoarding profits at the top? That’s capitalism unchecked.

And this is where people get uncomfortable - because if we accept that unchecked capitalism incentivises unfairness, then we also have to accept that we need better checks and balances. Not to destroy capitalism, but to keep it from turning into a rigged game where those with power keep stacking the deck and by default, holding the rest of us down so much, that some of us are faced with little choice.

Wealth isn’t the problem. Business isn’t the problem. The problem isn’t profit itself - it’s when profit is prioritised over people. Because at that point, it’s no longer an economic system, it’s just a more sophisticated form of theft.

Is Stealing Ever Justifiable?... “Stealing is a Choice”

Alright, let’s rewind a bit, you might still be thinking, “Stealing is still wrong. Desperation doesn’t excuse it.”

Fine. Let’s interrogate that. Why do we feel stealing is so unforgivable, even when the thief is starving? Is it about the act itself, or about who benefits and who loses?

Here’s a provocative thought: If the single mother who stole bread had been a CEO who “borrowed” company funds for one reason or another, would we even call it theft? Or would it be dismissed as a personal expense gone astray?

The truth is, our moral outrage isn’t about the act itself - it’s about the story we tell ourselves.

Sure, some people steal opportunistically. Not everyone who commits theft is a desperate parent. But if crime were simply a matter of personal morality, then why do we see higher crime rates in areas with greater economic inequality? The correlation is so obvious, how do we not see it for what it is?

If this topic has got your gears turning, here’s something to chew on - there’s a bloke on YouTube, Gary’s Economics, who dives deep into economics and inequality. I don’t agree with everything he says, but his videos are worth a watch if you fancy a different perspective.

Moving on, let’s take a look at the statistics:

A study from the aforementioned London School of Economics found that areas with higher income inequality consistently report higher crime rates. (Source)
The Office for National Statistics (ONS) reports that people from lower-income backgrounds, particularly single parents and those on benefits, are disproportionately likely to be both victims AND perpetrators of crime. (Source)

Poverty is a breeding ground for crime. It’s not about individual failure. It’s about systemic conditions that push people to the edge.

Crime. A Personal Reflection

I wasn’t always this cynical, but I wasn't as clued up.

When I was younger, I believed theft was theft, no exceptions. I even thought that harsher punishments would deter crime. The logic was simple: make the consequences so severe that nobody would dare risk it (like FUC it – death penalty for everyone!).

After all, why risk death for a tin of beans and a can of Coke? Thing is, people are intrinsically illogical - if someone can’t feed themselves, they’re going to die anyway. So doesn't theft just become the lesser of two evils? Even I needed to get FUCT.

Then reality hit.

I watched a man in a supermarket car park shove tins of food into his coat, his hands shaking from hunger and perhaps a bit of adrenaline for good measure. I learned about people who stole nappies because their benefits had been cut. And I saw how the justice system came down harder on these individuals than on white-collar criminals who robbed millions without ever stepping foot in a courtroom.

That’s when I realised: crime isn’t about morality. It’s about survival, power, and perception.

Man in pink balaclava. Thief, criminal, who knows? — Boo.

The Real Crime? Our Own Complacency

It’s easy to moralise from a place of comfort. To say, “Stealing is wrong,” without ever asking why someone might be driven to steal in the first place.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth:

If wages were fair, people wouldn’t need to steal to survive.
If basic necessities were affordable, desperation wouldn’t drive theft.
If we judged white-collar crime as harshly as street-level theft, our society would look very different.

So why don’t we fix these things? Oh, that’s right - because the people in power benefit from the status quo (duh!).

So, Is a Thief Always Bad?

Next time you read about someone arrested for shoplifting, or even burglary, stop and think. Was it really a lack of morality that drove them, or a lack of options?

And if it were you — hungry, desperate, with nowhere left to turn - what would you have done?

Maybe crime is relative. Maybe morality is fluid. No, scratch that. There’s no ‘maybe’ about it, period. (More to come on this in future posts.)

But for now, maybe the real villains aren’t the ones stealing bread, but the ones forcing them to in the first place? Because if survival is a crime, then what does that say about the society we’ve built?

But yeah, whatever. Thieves are bad. People should just work harder. Crime is just a choice.

GetFUCT.

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