San Francisco’s shoplifting epidemic is shocking to behold. But we shouldn’t imagine that the same couldn’t happen here. In fact, we’re well on our way. According to the British Retail Consortium, theft from stores across 10 UK cities is up by 26%. More, “incidents of violence and abuse against retail employees have almost doubled on pre-pandemic levels.”

On Tuesday, Asda Chairman Stuart Rose told LBC that “theft is a big issue. It has become decriminalised. It has become minimised. It’s actually just not seen as a crime anymore.”

In the absence of an adequate response from the authorities, retailers are beginning to take defensive measures. For instance, home furnishings company Dunelm is now locking up duvets and pillow cases in cabinets; Waitrose is offering free coffees to police officers to increase their visibility; and Tesco plans to equip staff with body cameras. 

The “progressive” response to this phenomenon isn’t quite as deranged as it is in in the US. Nevertheless, British liberals have responded as expected. A piece in the Observer is typical. You’ll never guess, but apparently it’s all the Tories’ fault: “Starving your population and then ‘cracking down’ on it for nicking baby formula or a can of soup can start to make a government look rather unreasonable.”

But as the writer ought to know, the issue here isn’t the desperate young mum hiding a few groceries in the pram. Nor is it the schoolboy pilfering the occasional bag of sweets. Rather, the real problem is blatant, organised and sometimes violent theft of higher value items. Criminals who never previously thought they could get away with it increasingly now do — thus presenting a material threat to retail as we know it. 

But instead of addressing the issue head-on, the writer blames the victim: “Once goods were kept behind counters, but since the birth of large supermarkets they have been laid out near the door, ready for the taking.” How terribly irresponsible of them! On the other hand, perhaps the open display of goods isn’t just a convenience for customers, but instead the hallmark of a high trust society. 

In fact, modern shops are a minor miracle of civilisation: public spaces, stacked high with products from all over the world, that passing strangers may freely inspect and handle, but which aren’t looted by anyone who feels like it.

Surely, that’s something worth defending. But if you’d prefer to abandon retailers to their fate, then don’t moan when they do what it takes to survive. Some will close, of course, and others will move their operations online. Those who stay open will guard themselves and their stock behind plexiglass and electronic tags. And then there’s the hi-tech solution: the fully automated and completely cashless store, in which customers have to be authenticated to even get in. 

Remember that retail facilities like this already exist. One day, when they become the norm, we’ll remember what shops used to be like. Then, we’ll ask why no one stood up for them.

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Peter Franklin is Associate Editor of UnHerd. He was previously a policy advisor and speechwriter on environmental and social issues.

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In the years between the 2016 Brexit vote and eventual departure from the European Union in 2020, a debate raged in Britain as to how the new relationship with the bloc might take shape. Effectively, the debate boiled down to the trade-offs between political sovereignty and the economic benefits of free trade. It’s therefore interesting to see the same arguments being made about America’s current trade war with Canada. The dispute over tariffs has seen Mark Carney choose between economic efficiency — conceding to Trump’s demands — or political sovereignty — rejecting Trump’s demands. But have Brexit’s Remainers changed their tune over Canada?

Many of those who voted Leave were prepared to accept a degree of increased trade friction with the EU in exchange for greater freedom over policies affecting the British public. But, for many on the Remain side of the argument, sovereignty was an illusory concept. What mattered were the economic benefits of exchange with the EU. Sovereignty was expendable. Increased economic output from lower trade barriers mattered above all else. The former Bank of England economist Danny Blanchflower memorably declared, “You can’t eat sovereignty”.

So, when it came to the Brexit negotiations, many commentators who had voted Remain took the view that Britain should do whatever necessary to retain frictionless trade with the EU. If that meant sacrificing sovereignty, it was an easy price to pay because national sovereignty, in this day and age, wasn’t real, anyway.

This attitude manifested itself in the 2018 withdrawal agreement, which would have placed Britain in a customs union with the EU. Britain would have been required to accept the EU’s external tariff policies, but would have little say on them. The British government would be prohibited from showing any preference to its domestic industries or pursuing economic policies which adversely affected European economies.

Ultimately, the Brexit deal that was agreed in 2019 only applied such conditions to Northern Ireland. Sensible commentators told us that it was essential that Britain internally divide itself in this way; otherwise, there could be violence in Ireland. Throughout the negotiations with the EU, the spectre of political violence was raised as a threat against the British government should it seek to assert the territorial integrity of its own national boundaries.

So, how curious it is now to read the commentary from Remain-inclined commentators in the wake of the trade standoff between the US and Canada. The Trump administration has told Canada that to secure special, low-tariff access to US markets, it must accept the external tariffs that apply to other countries. Canada must also limit its “Buy Canadian” practices. Trump has deployed all kinds of threats, attracting much criticism for his sabre-rattling.

Mark Carney has stood firm. He has said these impositions go too far. To agree to an external tariff set by the US would be to compromise an integral part of Canadian sovereignty. He refuses to accept American terms of the trade deal and will opt for mutual tariff barriers on goods that had hitherto been items of free or low-tariff trade.

Carney has admitted that it “will raise costs and reduce choice for Canadians”. But he has taken the view that protecting key aspects of Canada’s policy autonomy is more important than lower consumer goods prices and less red tape with the US, its largest trading partner. Polls show the Canadian public supports him.

These arguments may strike some British observers as rather interesting, given that Carney appeared to take a different view when he was governor of the Bank of England. Likewise, commentators who once suggested that “sovereignty” was some kind of Right-wing fantasy are now praising Carney for standing up for Canadian sovereignty against the US. Many such examples can be found in the Guardian. Jonathan Freedland once denounced British Leavers as suffering from a “sovereignty delusion” but has praised Carney’s “defiant patriotism” against Trump. Rafael Behr diagnosed a “syndrome: a Brexit model that makes a sacred principle of sovereignty” from which the gains were “nil, while the costs are mounting”. He has since criticized the Trump administration’s “protection racket”, adding that “the price is paid in sovereignty”. Earlier this week, the Guardian leader heaped praise on Canada for “fighting for its sovereignty while the US appears to be fighting for cheaper goods”.

This contrast suggests that some commentators have not been arguing from a point of principle but instead from a kind of motivated reasoning, depending on the ideological valence of the actors involved. The script across so much of the commentariat seems to be this: if the EU does something, it’s good and fine, while those who resist it are nasty or deluded. If the Trump administration does something, it is wicked and idiotic, but those who resist it are heroic and virtuous. The public debate deserves better arguments than this.

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Richard Johnson is a Senior Lecturer in Politics at Queen Mary University of London.

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