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June 3, 2009
May 23, 2009
Thirteen Looted Zurbaráns
Zurbarán’s earlier works show the influence of Caravaggio, and the Tenebrist post-Caravaggio style taken up and made new by Ribera and Velazquez. Zurbarán’s work developed more along the lines of his fellow Sevillan and contemporary, Murillo (see entry number nine in this museum), who was wildly popular. Many critics agree that the move away from the Caravagesque and more toward the occasionally-cloying sweetness of Murillo was a shift for the worse, choosing popular sentimentality over high drama and action.
Zurbarán’s work has been the subject of high-seas adventure. In 1756 an English ship seized cargo from a Spanish vessel, that was carrying the thirteen paintings by Zurbarán, a complete series depicting the Old Testament Jacob and his twelve sons, painted 1640-1645. The captured paintings were offered for sale in England. Richard Trevor, the Bishop of Durham (1707-1771), bought twelve of the thirteen paintings for £124. But the Bishop was foiled in his attempt to buy the complete series, as the portrait of Benjamin, Son of Jacob was snapped up by Peregrine Bertie, Duke of Ancaster (1714-1778) before the Bishop made his bid. The Bishop of Durham commissioned the artist Arthur Pond to paint a copy of the Zurbarán Benjamin (seen in the image above), as the Duke of Ancaster refused to sell, quite pleased with his purchase, albeit of captured art.
In 2001 the Church Commissioners planned to sell the series of twelve paintings, today worth an estimated £20 million (a nice profit from £124). As there was a public uproar, they determined to keep the works and re-evaluate their own financial straits in 2010. But do they own the works, after all? If the paintings were seized from a Spanish vessel, rather than having been legally purchased, and then sold on, who has the current rightful title? The original Spanish owners? The Spanish government? Or did all this happen so long ago, that the current English owners should retain the rights?
May 15, 2009
Carabinieri Celebrate 40 Years Fighting Art Crime
May 12, 2009
Study Art Crime in Rome
May 8, 2009
In The Best Interests of Art
April 24, 2009
Headlines Memo
- EBay and the illegal looting of antiquities, on the Freakonomics blog.
- Yale theft in our own Noah Charney’s back yard, via the Yale Daily News.
- Victoria, BC, gallery art heist, plus photos of the perp.
- Publishers Weekly interview with Myles Connor.
- NY Review of Books: Discussion of international art and antiquities law, here.
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April 23, 2009
A Michelangelo Crucifix? Perhaps...
The Italian state recently purchased a $4.2 million carved linden-wood crucifix by Michelangelo that probably isn’t by Michelangelo. In an of cut budgets and economic crisis, such as purchase might seem frivolous. Then again, Michelangelo drawings have sold for $20 million, so perhaps this is a good deal?
The main problem is that few experts seem to think that this could possibly be the work of Michelangelo. The lovely crucifix (the cross of which is missing) is dated circa 1495, when Michelangelo would have been only twenty. Some say that its delicacy is distinctive, and bears a likeness to Michelangelo’s Vatican Pieta, made when the artist was twenty-four. But most scholars worldwide cite a number of concerns regarding the attribution to Michelangelo. One, there is no known wooden sculpture by Michelangelo in existence. A crucifix from 1492 at Santo Spirito in Florence is thought by some to have been one of Michelangelo’s earliest works, but this is unconfirmed and far from the general consensus. Two, Michelangelo’s many biographers, in particular the man who idolized him, Giorgio Vasari (whose famous biography of Renaissance artists, The Lives of the Artists was written so as to feature Michelangelo as the culmination of centuries of artistic geniuses, the chapter on Michelangelo being many times longer than any other artist) does not mention either the construction of this crucifix or any work in wood by Michelangelo. It is true that half to two-thirds of all artworks by pre-Modern artists that we know once existed (from references to them in contemporary documents, contracts, diaries, biographies, etc) are considered “lost:” a piece of optimistic art historical terminology that suggests that the works might have been destroyed or just might be found—so the re-emergence of works by great artists is entirely plausible. However it is rare indeed that a work that is never mentioned in any extant document should suddenly appear.
This debate raises interesting questions about the value of artworks. The value of art is non-intrinsic—unlike jewelry, the component parts of which are of quantitative value, art is usually wood and canvas and stone that, without the craftsmanship of the artist, would have little or no value. A pile of wood and canvas and pigment is worth little, but assembled into a painting by Picasso, it is worth millions. There is a good deal of non-malevolent wishful thinking on the part of members of the art world. The art world as a whole benefits if objects newly on the market prove to be both authentic and legally-acquired (read as “not stolen”). The owner makes a fortune in selling their treasure. The middle man (dealer, gallery owner, auction house) gets a commission. The buyer gets a trophy. Scholars get a new treasure to study, the public a new bauble to admire. If the work in question turns out to either be a fake, misattributed, or stolen, then everyone loses out—the only beneficiary is an abstract sense of justice having been done, the truth having emerged, to the financial loss, and loss of face, of many. There is, therefore, a subconscious desire on the part of much of the art world to will works like this crucifix to be by the hand of master artists. On the other hand, the skeptics, particularly academic skeptics, can make a name for themselves by denouncing the optimistic attribution. When it comes down to it, the value of works of art is a combination of authenticity, demand, and rarity—but the key to all components is that value equals perceived authenticity, plus perceived demand, plus perceived rarity. Because of the non-intrinsic value of art, perception is everything. This often results in interesting tugs-of-war between various scholars and members of the art trade. And a new treasure by one of the greatest artists who ever lived hangs in the balance.
April 15, 2009
New Book on the Theft of the Mona Lisa Misses the Mark—and Reality
The Crimes of Paris: A True Story of Murder, Theft, and Detection by Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler (Little, Brown and Company, 2009) professes to tell the real inside story of the theft of the Mona Lisa and begins by mis-spelling the name of the thief. Vincenzo Peruggia spells his name with two “gs,” as may be seen in the widely-published mug shot taken of him by Italian police, after his arrest as he tried to return the Mona Lisa to Italy, after having stolen it from the Louvre. It is rather baffling, then, that the authors of this new work of non-fiction chose to spell the thief’s name with only one “g.” The odd choices do not stop there.
It is perhaps surprising that the complete story of the theft of the Mona Lisa, certainly the most famous art theft in history, has never been the subject of a book of non-fiction. It is mentioned in a number of works, but an in-depth monograph is still wanting. The Crimes of Paris professes to fill that lacuna, and its publishers were optimistic—an excerpt was featured in the May 2009 issue of Vanity Fair. (Another new book of 2009, Vanished Smile by R. A. Scotti, also hopes to tell the story—we’ll see if the author can do better). While the account of the theft and recovery of the Mona Lisa is accurate and reasonably well-written, the supposed true crime conspiracy that the authors have uncovered and present in their work, regarding forgeries of the Mona Lisa and a mastermind called the Marquis de Valfierno who was behind the whole plot, is a load of hooey. The sole source of this conspiracy, a 1932 article in The Saturday Evening Post by American journalist Karl Decker, was dismissed decades ago by all scholars worthy of the name as a wholesale invention—and one so outrageous that it is difficult to understand how anyone could believe it to be true.
Decker claimed to have met a con man named Eduardo while in Casablanca. Eduardo proceeded to tell Decker about his forgery ring in Buenos Aires and Paris, selling American millionaires copies of paintings that he told them were stolen originals. This Eduardo, who also went under the alias the Marquis de Valfierno, claimed that he had hired Peruggia to steal the original Mona Lisa in order to convince six separate American millionaires that the forged Mona Lisa that they were buying from Valfierno was the stolen original.
The Valfierno story was long ago rejected as one of two things: either a wholesale invention by Karl Decker to sell his story, or a wholesale invention by a con man in Casablanca that pulled the wool down over Mr Decker’s eyes. It is a shame, then, that a work of non-fiction professing to tell the true story behind a famous true crime, should so mislead its readers. Without the addition of myth, the story of the theft of the Mona Lisa is rich and enthralling, with a fabulous cast of characters (including Picasso, Apollinaire, and a fascinating French detective), the backdrop of pre-war Paris and Florence, and ripples felt to this day. For not only was the theft of the Mona Lisa the most famous theft of any object in history, but it also inspired other thefts, altered the concept of what makes a work valuable, and proved to be a turning point in the history of art, of collecting, and of art crime.
The book is worth reading for its solid if stolid account of the theft and recovery of the world’s most famous painting. It also covers the backdrop of Paris in the ‘teens, with a variety of characters sketched into what is more a pastiche of a period in time than a thorough exploration of one crime. In terms of setting the scene, painting the atmosphere of a time and place, the book succeeds nicely.
But it is, of course, the art crime that is of greatest interest to this review. The Hooblers’ tale of the Mona Lisa theft would have done well to have ended without the addition of Valfierno—and it would have been nice to have spelled the name of the protagonist correctly. Trying to shoe-horn a myth into one of history’s great true stories poisons the portions that are true, and cultivates the misconceptions about art crime that already abound.
March 29, 2009
Lawsuits Abound, Defensive and Offensive
March 24, 2009
Yale Stolen Paintings Recovered
March 20, 2009
Headlines Memo
- Czech police: Impressive 3 month turnaround from heist to recovery.
- Dutch police recover 8 paintings, including Pissarro and Renoir, 22 years after the heist.
- An interview with Myles Connor.
- Controversy: US-China antiquities agreement.
- While we’re at it, here’s the official UNESCO 1970 Illicit Cultural Property document.
- RobertWittmanInc.com.
- Charlotte Observer: ICE finds stolen Italian bust in Charlotte.
- Marine Colonel Matthew Bogdanos talks about recovering items in the Iraq National Museum.
*Some sites require free registration.
Book Review: The Forger's Spell by Edward Dolnick
March 15, 2009
ARCA Trustee Anthony Amore in the New York Times
Radio Boston's Gardner Theft Coverage
March 14, 2009
Steal the World
A razorblade left on a library floor.
That was the slip-up that led to his arrest. Over 8 years, he had sliced out at least one-hundred rare maps from the world’s greatest libraries.
But this is not the tale of Cesar Gomez Rivero, the thief of Spain’s National Library maps. Nor is it the story of Ben Johnson, the student intern who stole and mutilated scores of important historical letters while working at Yale’s Beinecke Library. This is the story of the American Edward Forbes Smiley III, convicted in May of 2007. He, along with Gomez Rivero and Johnson, are just a few thieves among thousands worldwide who profit from the theft of rare maps, books, and manuscripts.
Map theft is frighteningly commonplace. But discreet statistics are rarely if ever kept by police, so the exact number of book, manuscript, and map thefts per year in various countries is unclear. In the US alone, there are certainly the thousands per year. It is safe to say that there are tens of thousands each year worldwide, the map thefts alone worth tens of millions of euros. The Gomez Rivero case made international headlines, and shook Spain’s infrastructure to the point of politicians and cultural ministers resigning in disgrace, for their failure to protect the treasures in Spain’s National Library. For much of the world, the exposure of Gomez Rivero was a shock—how could this criminal mastermind steal such valuable works from a prominent national institution. But for those in the know, the greatest surprise around the Gomez Rivero case is not that someone was stealing from a national library, but that someone was actually caught.
Gomez Rivero, who admited to the theft of nineteen maps, eleven of which have been recovered, is a small-time crook, compared to a master thief like Smiley. Mr Smiley used Xacto knife blades and wet string to silently dismember rare maps all over the world. He altered the edges to hide his cuts and bleached out ownership stamps, before selling the maps to international collectors and dealers. Among the libraries he victimized are the New York Public Library (eleven maps stolen), the Boston Public Library (thirty-four stolen), Yale University Library (twenty), Harvard University Library (eight), the Newberry Library in Chicago (two), and the British Library (one). And how many stolen works are still out there, which he has not admitted to? The Boston Public Library alone reported thirty-three more maps discovered missing from books which Smiley had consulted in their archives.
The libraries of Yale University have been frequently victimized, and provide a microcosmic example indicative of the huge global problem. In 1973 a pair of priests were charged with the theft of rare books from Yale and other university libraries around the United States. They would conceal rare books under their priestly vestments. The FBI raided their headquarters at the Saint Stephen’s Monastery in Queens, New York, and found hundreds of stolen books. In 1979 Andrew Antippas, a visiting professor from Tulane University, pleaded guilty to having stolen five rare maps from one of Yale’s libraries. In 1981 an antique microscope, built in 1734 and valued at $10,000 (€7000), was stolen from Yale, only to be recovered in a trash can. In 1997, a man called John Ray stole a valuable 19th century art book. And in 2001, 21-year-old summer intern Ben Johnson stole fifty items valued over $2 million (€1.2 million) from Yale’s rare books library, the Beinecke. Keep in mind that these instances are from Yale libraries only, and are only those which were discovered. Certainly countless more have occurred that have not been detected, at Yale, in Madrid, and at libraries worldwide. As Spain’s Foreign Ministry admitted, at least 300 “highly valued” objects have disappeared from the National Library in recent years. A Ministry spokesman said that “already back in 1859 the odd disappearance of a book has been noticed” and yet security remained lax.
Map theft carves a fascinating niche in the history of art crime. Professor Travis McDade of University of Illinois Law School is perhaps the world’s leading expert in rare book and manuscript crime. In a recent conversation with the author, he described what makes map collecting, and the thefts that supply its demand, distinct from other types of art crime. Unlike fine art, which is most often unique, instantly recognizable and traceable, illicit rare maps may be sold at a legitimate level. Gomez Rivero sold some through eBay, for instance. The greatest difficulty in most art crime is not in the stealing but in the selling. Maps, most of which are printed on paper, are far easier to carry, to smuggle, and to sell. McDade puts much of the blame for the ease of sale on over-zealous dealers. “Map dealers are allowed to plead ignorance, saying that they thought the stolen map they bought was a rare opportunity, a fantastic buy. Doesn’t it seem to you that if the owner of an art gallery was approached by some man who just happened to have a Velazquez available, that the art gallery owner should be very suspicious? Some in the map dealer community have been less than assiduous in patrolling their own borders.”
Map collecting has its own qualities, distinct from art or book collecting. Unlike rare books, maps have a display appeal. But unlike most art, maps do not require specialized knowledge to discuss. Much of the pleasure of collecting is not only in the conspicuous display, but in a conspicuous didacticism. To own an object of high value about which you can point out details which are invisible to first-time viewers shows off one’s worldliness. Map collecting appeals to the wealthy dilleton who wants to appear knowledgeable, but does not necessarily have the background training.
Professor McDade explains. “Maybe [the collector] notices that, in an African map, a particular cove in Madagascar wasn’t surveyed, or in another map a particular island in the West Indies was neglected. This is something he can point out to his guests, and he’s likely to be the only person to have noticed it. Often little or nothing has been written about collected maps, so the owner may be the foremost expert on that interesting and unique item on his wall. Never underestimate the need for serious people to have themselves considered smart.”
Map theft is all too easy for several reasons. Compared to art, maps, books, and manuscripts tend to receive little or no protection. Maps tend to be housed in libraries, archives, or offices where researchers are inherently trusted. As McDade warns, “thieves posing as researchers are given some sort of solitary access to items and, even if he only has five to ten seconds, if he knows what he’s doing he can easily cut the map from its housing.” Cameras are easily blocked by the body, and there is little chance that a researcher is being monitored throughout his visit. Maps are works on paper, and are therefore easy to transport, hide, and smuggle. And finally, most maps are not catalogued at an item level, only in their overall binding. “For instance,” McDade describes, “if a library has a 1667 Blaeu Atlas with 100 maps in it, most libraries only catalogue the atlas and not each individual map within it.” So the removal of one page from a book can go undetected for years. “Even if a library has catalogued each map within a book, they likely won’t check each of the maps very often. Discovery will only happen when another person happens to be interested in the same map.”
Just as Spaniards should not think that map theft is a rare occurrence and has happened only to them, they should take some cold comfort in knowing that poor library security is an international handicap. McDade concludes, “the library thefts in Madrid, far from being unique, actually follow a standard practice. A researcher is given access to these things, he knows exactly how to avoid the meager security, he knows exactly what he wants, and no one is ever the wiser.” The surprise is not in the National Library thefts having occurred at all, but that someone was careless enough to have been caught.
The importance of studying the history of art crime is the ability to learn from past mistakes and take measures to prevent it in the future. Edward Forbes Smiley III, Ben Johnson, and Cesar Gomez Rivero offer us many lessons in how to protect maps in our libraries. Researchers, even those known to librarians, should be treated with polite suspicion. Glass-topped work tables should be used so that nothing can be concealed beneath them. Work spaces should be open on the sides, not hemmed in by privacy walls. Video cameras should record steadily the workspace for researchers. Digital images should be catalogued of all maps in a library’s collection, to facilitate identification and tracing. Books should be flipped through at regular intervals, to insure that all of the valuable pages are in place. Staff should occasionally sit with researchers while they work. Rare items should never mix with items from the library’s general collections, to prevent concealment or swapping. Laptops and bags must be opened on entry and departure, always. To defend against insider thefts, better screening of employees is needed, including regular evaluations, monitoring, and exit interviews upon the termination of employment.
There are hundreds of Smileys and Johnsons and Gomez Riveros still out there, plundering one of the least protected of the world’s treasure troves. But we can learn from past thieves how to defend against those in the future.
(For more about ARCA's activities in the field of library and archive security, please see the international conference held at the National Library of Spain and sponsored by AXA last November...After its great success, ARCA is preparing a US conference on the same subject: http://www.axa.es/fundacionaxa/actividades015.html and http://www.bne.es/esp/actividades/jornadaseguridad.htm)
March 12, 2009
ARCA Announcements UPDATED
March 11, 2009
ARCAblog Podcast: The 1961 Goya Art Theft
March 7, 2009
Headlines Memo
- The State Department investigates confiscation and sale by Fidel Castro of a work by Spanish Impressionist Joaquin Sorrolla.
- Tome Raiders: Rare book theft is sadly often easy to carry out, especially in smaller libraries and places such as monasteries.
- In a twist on the usual international cultural property spat, can plaintiffs collect damages from a county in the form of confiscating and selling cultural property? Read about a long-running case against Iran by victims of a suicide bombing.
March 4, 2009
ARCAblog Podcast: The 1876 Gainsborough Art Theft
February 25, 2009
Iraq's National Museum resumes limited operations
February 20, 2009
Iraq's National Museum nears re-opening
The Gardner Heist: An Interview with Author Ulrich Boser
Adopted by the city of Boston after marrying one of its richest sons, Gardner made “frequent ‘copy’ for two hemispheres” as she traveled the world and lived the life of an eccentric heiress. In his book, Isabella Stewart Gardner and Fenway Court (sold for $6 in 1925), Morris Carter, the museum’s first director, describes how her villa and its collection filled the void left by her inability to have children (a tragic childbirth in which her only child died in infancy resulted in Gardner’s being unable to have children thereafter). Gardner’s collection, which came to life with each new acquisition, seems to have assuaged these sorrows.
For many, a trip to the museum has become similar to what Gardner’s European travels were for her, “the opportunity for the acquisition of knowledge and cultural expansion.” The thieves, who for over an hour perused the collection, carried out not only priceless works of art, but also a portion of Mrs. Jack Gardner’s vibrant legacy.
Recently, in anticipation of the upcoming release of The Gardner Heist on February 24th, I was fortunate enough to speak with author Ulrich Boser, and hear what he had to say about the largest art theft in history.
MD: How did you come to inherit the files of famed art detective Harold Smith?
UB: Shortly after Smith died, I contacted his family and asked if I could look through his Gardner files. At first, they told me that his files were missing, that it appeared that someone had thrown them out. The family kept hunting, and it turned out that a number of Smith’s most important files had in fact been saved, including police reports and copies of old interviews. Smith had also written up some fictional accounts of his biggest cases, which his daughter Tara gave me. Smith’s family was very gracious, very open. I could not have written the book without their support.
MD: Did the ISGM assist you in your investigation and research?
UB: When I first sent my request for an interview to the museum’s public relations director, she emailed me back and said: “We have to decline access.” If I needed quotes, I could get a written statement from the director of the museum or interview the head of security. But I continued to write emails and letters, and we built up trust and a shared understanding. And since then the museum has been exceptionally supportive. They allowed me to interview director Anne Hawley. They allowed me to use images of the paintings. I’m particularly indebted to director of security Anthony Amore. He’s an ace investigator; he has been very helpful to me.
MD: What was your most memorable moment not contained in the pages of The Gardner Heist that you experienced?
UB: I wished I could have spent more time discussing Smith’s investigation of the Golden Door robbery. It took Smith years to crack the case; it is believed to be the largest gold heist in American history. I also talked a lot with art detective Charley Hill. That was also cut from the manuscript. Hill is a fascinating person and a great art detective. He was written up in Dolnick’s excellent book The Rescue Artist.
MD: How do you account for the eclectic selection of works stolen from the ISGM?
UB: While I think the Gardner thieves were expert criminals, they were not professional art thieves, and I think they didn’t really know the value of what they were taking. The thieves stole a few big-name items—the Rembrandts, the Vermeer—and then they seem to have nabbed whatever else caught their eye. How else can you explain the theft of the finial? The ku? Those items are valuable. But compared to a Vermeer or a Titian, they are little more than knickknacks.
MD: Why did the ISGM thieves not try to steal works of art that might have been easier to sell on the market (e.g. the Zorn’s in the Blue Room on the first floor)?
UB: If the thieves wanted to steal items and slip them back into the legitimate art market, they did make some good choices. The finial, the ku, you could certainly sell those artifacts on e-Bay. You might not get much money, but you could certainly pawn them off. The Vermeer, of course, would be nearly impossible to sell on the open market.
MD: How did your experiences as a journalist help or hinder you in your extensive research for The Gardner Heist?
UB: On one side, it helped. People want publicity, and so they would talk to me in an effort to get their story out to the public. On the other hand, being a journalist did occasionally hinder my efforts. I had to abide by journalistic norms, and I always identified myself as a reporter, I always made sure that off the record comments stayed off the record.
MD: How do you account for why the thieves spent such little time on the first floor of the museum and did not even make it up to the third floor where there are works by Titian, Velazquez, and Botticelli?
UB: Honestly I can’t tell you why the thieves spent such little time on the first and third floor. What is interesting, though, is the fact that the thieves were in the museum for over an hour. By the standards of a robbery, that’s a lifetime. Indeed, many robberies are over in minutes. And I think it shows that the thieves had a working knowledge of the museum’s security system before they entered the building. They must have had some sort of inside connection.
MD: As the global recession worsens will criminals involved in or close to the heist become more inclined to find the paintings and return them for the $5 million reward? Or is this more proof that those involved in the heist and its aftermath do not know the location of the works of art?
UB: I think that if someone had the art—and they were inclined to return it—they would have done it already. So yes what seems more likely is that those involved in the heist no longer know the location of the works of art. But no one knows for sure. After all, the art has not been returned. That’s the great mystery of the case.
MD: Do you believe that such a “successful” heist could occur in a museum of the same caliber as the ISGM today?
UB: The Gardner has done a lot to improve their security. They have many more cameras, many more guards, much better training. But the bottom line is that almost any museum can be robbed. If a thief is committed, they can usually find a way. But keep in mind that museums much larger than the Gardner get hit up too. In November 2006, for instance, someone managed to swipe some fossils from one of the Smithsonian’s galleries.
In the upcoming weeks, Boser will be on-tour stopping at a number of bibliophilic venues for readings, signings, and discussions. One may find his schedule here. Also, his passion for the unsolved Gardner heist has inspired him to organize “The Open Case – a magazine and web community devoted to solving unsolved crimes,” coming March 2009.
Originally posted at Art Theft Central: The Gardner Heist: An Interview with Author Ulrich Boser
February 14, 2009
Headlines Memo
- The world's economic woes have hit art auctions; no surprise there. Sotheby's see over 50% reduction in sales in Hong Kong.
- China and Taiwan agree to consider sharing their art.
- SF Chronicle reviews a new book on the $600 million Gardner Heist.
- The Iraqi National Museum, ransacked in 2003, is set to re-open.
- Royal Canadian Mounted Police form their own art crime squad.
- China demands return of two bronze sculptures, owned by Yves Saint-Laurent, taken in the Opium Wars.
- Someone scratched Chicago's Bean.
- When art is the crime: Obama portrait artist's notoriety continues with an arrest in Boston.
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February 9, 2009
Art Theft: Does punishment really have a deterrence effect?
Recently, I researched documentation that supports this view that the certainty of punishment could be a motivation for crime. Currently, it is estimated that art theft cases are solved about 10% of the time. In August 1998, the National Center for Policy Analysis published an article on the Impact of Punishment on Crime. In "Certainty of Punishment vs. Severity of Punishment," the article discusses which is the greatest deterrent. The NCPA states,
In their decision making, prisoners are much more sensitive to changes in certainty than in severity of punishment. In terms of real-world application, the authors of the study speculate that "long prison terms are likely to be more impressive to lawmakers than lawbreakers." Supporting evidence for this viewpoint comes from a National Academy of Sciences panel which estimated that a 50 percent increase in the probability of incarceration prevents about twice as much violent crime as a 50 percent increase in the average term of incarceration. Likelihood of punishment often tends to affect property crimes more than violent and sexual offenses. This point is borne out in a study by Itzhak Goldberg and Frederick Nold showing that in communities where more people report burglaries to the police, fewer burglaries take place. A tendency to report crimes has an aggregate deterrent effect on criminals because it raises expectations of punishment. (reference to Itzhak Goldberg and Frederick C. Nold "Does Reporting Deter Burglars? An Empirical Analysis of Risk and Return in Crime," Review of Economics and Statistics 62, August 1980, pp. 424-31)Accordingly, in light of the FBI's claim that 12.4%, 18.6%, and 12.6% of burglaries, larceny thefts, and motor vehicle thefts, respectively, were considered cleared by arrest or by exceptional means, it would be easy to conclude that the criminal mind would be drawn to art theft more so than other crimes. The greater the possibility for his or her getting away with art theft, as this study highlights, certainly must influence the criminal mind.
Some food for thought:
The NCPA states in the beginning of the excerpt that some studies show it is "prisoners" who are more sensitive to the certainty of punishment. This should be accounted for as not every art thief is a Myles Connor-type repeat offender. Nevertheless, the NCPA attempts to support a blanket claim by citing that the likelihood of punishment has a greater deterrence effect on nonviolent crimes as opposed to violent and sexual. The report also states that there is a decrease in burglary statistics in communities where more people report burglaries to the police.
Additionally, it would be interesting to see the art crime stats since the UK passed the "Dealing in Cultural Objects (Offences) Act 2003." The Act in Section 1 provides conviction on indictment of up to 7 years imprisonment and/or a fine, where a person: dishonestly deals in a cultural object that is tainted, knowing or believing that the object is tainted (Simon Mackenzie and Green, Penny, "Criminalising the Market in Illicit Antiquities," http://ssrn.com/abstract=1004267). In his other research, Mackenzie questions the effectiveness of such an act in discouraging the illicit trade.
Rather than passing stricter legislation with severer penalties, it would appear that the Sûreté du Québec and RCMP's announcement to create a new squad dedicated to art related crimes is the proper course of action.