Between Deviance and Desire: Rationalizing the Need to Possess

By Mirra Muthuvel, MSc

Editorial Intern

I’ve always wondered what distorts our sense of right and wrong: what drives someone to cause harm and what lets others justify or overlook it. During my master’s, I worked on a thesis about identifiability—how just knowing a name or a bit of personal info about someone changes the public's attitude towards punishment judgments for domestic violence. What I found was interesting. When the abuse was physical, people responded with the same level of severity, whether the perpetrator was anonymous or familiar. But in cases of emotional or financial abuse, identifiability changed things. A name, a gender, and familiarity made the offender feel more human, more understandable. The response wasn’t outright denial, but a kind of softening. “Maybe it wasn’t that serious.” “Maybe they didn’t mean it.” Harm became something to be negotiated. 

Later, when I started reading cases of art theft, I noticed the same emotional logic from the offenders themselves. These weren’t violent criminals. They spoke about the artworks with love, reverence, even entitlement. They weren’t stealing; they insisted they were rescuing, preserving, and protecting. The harm was minimized, reframed, or explained away through stories that made the act feel less like a crime and more like a necessity. 

It wasn’t that the crimes were equivalent. They weren’t. The rationalizations used by the public in one context and by the offenders in another bore a resemblance. Once emotion entered the picture, the clarity of harm began to shift. That pattern of harm being softened by narrative is something I keep returning to. Not because the situations are the same, but because the way people process them often is.

It’s probably why certain stories of art theft intrigue me. Not the dramatic heists or museum break-ins, but the quieter ones where someone takes a painting not to sell it but to keep it. I’m not defending it, and I don’t agree with it, but I can’t ignore something in the way they explain themselves. That strange mix of love, longing, and the belief that wanting something badly enough somehow makes it okay. I think it’s because I grew up around objects no one called “art” but everyone treated as sacred. They weren’t protected by alarm systems or velvet ropes. They lived in temples, hung in doorways, were worn, touched, prayed to. We didn’t admire them from a distance—we lived with them, offered something of ourselves to them. Beauty was not external. It was entwined with ritual, memory, and identity.

As Simon Mackenzie notes in Criminal and Victim Profiles in Art Theft: Motive, Opportunity and Repeat Victimization, the art-motivated thief often “wants to live with [the artwork], view it in detail, repeatedly and at his leisure… someone for whom the particular work of art has taken on a special meaning as something ineluctably desirable.” These individuals aren’t professional criminals. Their plans are often clumsy and impulsive. They might use ladders, forged badges, or favors from insiders. What links them isn’t sophistication—it’s obsession. A longing, so intense, it detaches the object from its origin and rewrites the act of theft as one of fate.

Psychologists call this cognitive reframing - a cornerstone of criminal rationalization. A stolen painting becomes “rescued,” the thief a kind of caretaker. In criminology, this logic is known as techniques of neutralization—mental strategies people use to justify violating norms without viewing themselves as immoral. Gresham Sykes and David Matza (1970) identified several of these strategies, such as denying responsibility, minimizing the harm done to victims, or redirecting blame by questioning others’ motives. These techniques help offenders extinguish guilt, especially in the early stages of wrongdoing, and allow them to maintain a non-criminal self-image. It’s a mechanism not unique to museum robbers; the same thinking underpins everything from financial fraud to domestic abuse to other forms of harm: rules don’t apply when I feel this strongly. The logic isn’t legal; it is emotional. 

This emotional framework —the belief that personal desire outranks harm --is deeply familiar across all forms of deviant behavior. And yet, art theft seems to hold a peculiar place in the public imagination. These crimes are often described as “audacious,” “romantic,” even “glamorous.” We’re fascinated by the idea that someone could look at a painting and need it so badly they’ll commit a crime to possess it. But as Pepperdine Graphic article by Caneel Anthomy notes, while Hollywood glamorizes art theft with sleek heists and charming rogues, the reality is far less cinematic.

But what stays with me is the quiet desperation. A yearning so profound that admiration turns into appropriation. In these stories, beauty becomes both justification and motive. And while the object may be unique, the impulse is not. 

Of course, theft is still theft. Something is taken—not just a physical object, but the lineage it carries: its history, its makers, its witnesses. These works are more than beautiful—they’re embedded with cultural memory and collective reverence. Taking them isn’t just a crime; it’s an erasure.

Yet, we hesitate to condemn. Maybe because, at some quiet level, we understand the feeling: to look at something beautiful and feel it belongs to you, not as a commodity, but as a piece of yourself you never knew was missing. That doesn’t make the act less selfish. But it does make it more human.

That’s the paradox of beauty. It doesn’t belong to anyone. But sometimes, it feels like it was made just for you.

Mirra Muthuvel, MSc., is an intern at Art Legal. She possesses a Bachelor of Science in Psychology and a Master of Science in Criminology and Criminal Justice Science. Her research interests center on the psychological aspects of cultural heritage and art crimes, with a particular emphasis on the roles of emotion, moral reasoning, and rationalization in the commission and justification of these acts.

References:

Mackenzie, S. (2005). Criminal and victim profiles in art theft: motive, opportunity and repeat victimization. ResearchGate; unknown. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/44285382_Criminal_and_victim_profiles_in_art_theft_motive_opportunity_and_repeat_victimisation  

‌Sykes, G. M., & Matza, D. (1957). Techniques of Neutralization: A Theory of Delinquency. American Sociological Review, 22(6), 664–670. JStor. https://doi.org/10.2307/2089195  

Pepperdine Graphic. (2012, March 29). Hollywood glamourizes art theft, reality paints different. Pepperdine Graphic. https://pepperdine-graphic.com/hollywood-glamourizes-art-theft-reality-paints-different/