Shoplifting in Britain has become “out of control”. Small business owners are asking the government for a £1,500 security grant for each premises. Some supermarkets are trying to tempt police officers inside by offering free coffees.
As a guard and bouncer, I’m not eligible for one. And I haven’t seen too many coppers enjoying a coffee either: presumably they’ve got their hands full trying to chase after illegal e-scooter riders.
But I have had to deal with both of those violations simultaneously when a lad on a scooter cut to the front of a cafe queue, and rode off with flapjacks he hadn’t paid for.
The risk of encounters like those won’t stop Britons spending a projected £5.6bn on Black Friday. While that’s a 21% drop from last year’s £7.1bn, it seems we haven’t yet lost our appetite for special offer electricals, footwear, video games and multipack booze. That last one worries me as it’s one of the most shoplifted products in the UK.
We’re taught to be aware of steaming or “flash robbing”, where a wave of thieves run on to your site, overpower guards and shop staff, and steal as much as they can. In August, Londoners saw it up close when an Oxford Street robbery campaign was announced on TikTok.
I tried to put myself in the thieves’ mindset. I’m paid £12.03 an hour, and work 16 12-hour shifts a month to earn my £1,600 wage packet. I know what it’s like to be tempted by shelves full of premium goods that you’re never going to be able to afford.
But I also know how counter-productive thieving is. Two years ago, a bloke with an empty holdall got on to our site and managed to bag up some unattended laptops.
He must’ve forgotten the UK has more CCTV cameras than every country in the world except China: he was captured on half a dozen of them. The laptops were traced by the police and the thief got a custodial sentence. He’d pleaded not guilty up until the morning I was due in court to give evidence.
This Black Friday, I’d urge shop owners to think tactically before hanging out their special offer banners. Especially if they’ve put all their mid-range mobiles in the window, but don’t want to pay for a guard to administer first aid to trampled bargain-hunters.
One thing I’ve found useful when I’m on duty is my body-worn camera. Recently issued to frontline Tesco staff, they can put thieves on the back foot – though not always the younger ones.
Their generation grew up sharing selfies, so perhaps being recorded isn’t intimidating to them. Older robbers are more wary: we filmed one bloke crowbarring
vending machines who’d first obscure CCTV domes using toilet-roll paper mache.
He was eventually caught when he tried the same move in a hospital. One of the patients must’ve reported him.
The UK security manual says there’s no substitute for making personnel available when trying to protect your property.
That vigilance doesn’t need to come from a bloke with a truncheon and radio: in Northampton during a smash-and-grab at a jewellers, a gang were frightened off by an attacking nan in her 70s. I wish I could pull off her flying handbag technique.
I have the same powers as she does when it comes to stopping theft. Legally, the only difference between me and everyone else is a black uniform. My boots, first aid kit and array of torches are there to identify me as an “exemplary citizen”.
So if you’re hitting the shops this Friday and see someone like me getting assaulted by a bloke wielding a screwdriver (as happened last month in West Bridgford, Nottingham), you’re more than welcome to raise the alarm, or even try to help.
One of the reasons I’m polite when working around the public is I fear I could one day need them. The police have been instructed to respond to fewer 999 calls. The cost of living crisis still feels like a vice. When I look at my food bill or direct debits, I still feel as if I’m falling out of a plane.
One of my shift mates talks about the “bagging area uprising”. He predicts that one day, someone at the self-service checkout will be unable to scan their beans, and chuck the tin on the floor. The person next to them will feel inspired, and do the same. The person at the end will post it online.
In an hour or so we’ll have the 2011 riots again, where copycat looters caused £200m of property damage. Triggers for those six days of unrest apparently included consumerism and deprivation.
As someone earning 27% below the reported national average wage of £16.60 an hour, what’s stopping me robbing a £700 50-inch smart TV myself? After all, I’ve got the master keys.
The main reason is I’m cursed with a long memory. I can remember the shame of being marched back into the hardware shop by my mum, and handing back the galvanised nails I’d nicked.
These days I try not to live beyond my means. It took me 384 shifts to save up for a PlayStation 5, but knowing I can play It Takes Two with my daughter and not have the police at the door makes it worth it.
The other reason is guards rarely make good thieves. “Florida Phil” was a security worker who, in 1989, absconded with almost £1m in wages from Heathrow airport.
With his Stetson, cowboy boots, ranch-style shirts and love for all things American, it was obvious where he’d jetted off to. The FBI were put on alert.
It turned out he was at a caravan site in Clacton, Essex. He’d blown all his takings, and got six years at Isleworth crown court: just four miles from his job. That’s what I call not very flash robbing.
• George Bass is a security guard and bouncer
