Why Bike Theft Should Be Taken More Seriously

Perhaps it should surprise no one that in New York and other American cities, bicycle theft isn't a high-priority crime for police departments.  If your bike is stolen, you probably won't see it again and the cops will tell you there's "nothing" they can do.  And they might give you a lecture in which they tell you to do the things you'd already been doing.

Depressingly, that is the case in other cities throughout the world.  A case in point is London.  According to a report the BBC cited, about 18,000 thefts were recorded in the city between November 2021 and October 2022. Only 206 resulted in a charge or caution, the latter of which is the British justice system's of saying, "You've been caught; don't do it again."

The BBC news item offered an interesting analysis of the situation.  According to experts, the report goes, many stolen bikes end up on auction sites and those sites should be doing more to stop it.  The report also calls bike theft an "entry level crime," that often leads to bigger crimes.  I wonder whether that separates London bike theft from its counterparts in American cities, which tends to be a crime of opportunity or done by professional thieves.

But aside from losing bikes and contributing to overall lawlessness, bike theft has another undesirable effect. According to Tom Bogdanowicz, a senior policy officer at the London Cycling Campaign, about a quarter of all bike theft victims never cycle again.  This, he said, is "not good for the city" because "if there's less cycling, then there are more emissions from cars, more congestion and people's health isn't improving."  Moreover, he said that while building bicycle infrastructure encourages cycling, if people have their bikes stolen, then you lose customers."

Then, of course, motorists will complain that "their" traffic lanes were "taken away" for bike lanes that "nobody uses."

Thus, not taking bike theft seriously adversely affects public health and exacerbates the already-adversarial relationship that too often exists between motorists and cyclists.  None of that can be good for anybody, I think.

  

Reuniting "Scumbag Currency" With Its Rightful Owners

It was once common knowledge among New York City cyclists that if their bikes were stolen, the first place to look--and their best chance of getting them back--was on St. Mark's Place.  At night, there was an open-air market of pilfered bicycles of just about every kind.

I don't know whether St. Mark's is still the Grand Bazaar of stolen bikes, but from what I'm hearing, the business of stolen bikes still operates in a remarkably covert fashion.  I'm guessing the folks who steal and the ones who sell--who are often, though not always, the same people--know that losing anything without a motor and fewer than four wheels isn't high on the list of law enforcement priorities, whether because police the police don't have the resources or just don't care.  Also, with Craigslist and other online sites, it's a lot easier to sell the fruits of one's illicit labor.  Worse yet, some newer sites, like OfferUp, seem all but tailor-made for criminals.

One would think that with the proliferation of surveillance cameras, would-be crooks would be more reluctant to practice their dark arts.  But, the electronic devices only seem to embolden some perps.  Do they think they're going to become YouTube stars or something?

It seems that the situation is not unique to my hometown.  What's changed, though, is that in Denver metro area and other places, victims or their allies are taking matters into their own hands.  As an example, in nearby Fort Collins, cycling activist Dan Porter (who runs the website Your Group Ride) has "repossessed" two stolen bikes--including an $8000 machine he found leaning against a camper.  He admits "it was a crazy thing to do" but getting the bike to its rightful owner was worth the effort and risk.

Her sentiments were echoed by a woman in the area who prefers anonymnity.  She sets up aliases so she can perform "stings" on would-be sellers of bikes she finds on OfferUp and Facebook Marketplace.   While some might question her and Porter's methods--especially their bypassing of the police, she offers this rationale:  "At least if someone has their property back, I feel half of justice has been served." 

She also has an explanation of one factor that fuels the illegal yet overt business:  "The nice high-end bikes have become the 'scumbag currency' of town."

Off The Island With Them!

Yesterday I wrote about cops who break the law--specifically, one that forbids cycling on the sidewalks of Denver.  I also mentioned that those same officers routinely overlook violations of said statute.

Now, to balance things out, I'm going to write about two constables who broke a law pertaining to cycling--with less reason than their peers in the Mile High City--and were arrested for it.

Actually, the law isn't about bicycles specifically.  But, given its locale, it has special resonance for cyclists and makes the policemen's offence all the more egregious.

Lt. Andrew Longuski and Detective Sgt. Derrick Jordan work in the Polygraph Section of of the Michigan State Police's Biometrics and Identification Division.  Now, if any two officers know about your chances of getting busted if you commit a crime, I would expect them to be the ones.

They were attending a training conference on the Great Lake State's Upper Peninsula when they decided to go for a joyride on Mackinac Island.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, motorized vehicles are not allowed on the island, so people usually get around on foot or by bicycle.  And some of those bikes are tandems.  Thus, two guys on a bike built for one would--and, in their case, did--attract attention.

That, and the fact that the bike had a pink seat.  Longuski pulled up to Jordan and offered to let him ride with him to a watering hole. 

Now, even though a couple of cops on a bike built for one raised a few eyebrows, it probably wouldn't have gotten them in trouble had the bike not belonged to either Longuski or Jordan.  


Apparently, the cops-turned-perps didn't realize that the offenses for which officers of the law cannot be indicted do not include taking a bike that is not one's own--especially in a place like Mackinac Island.  Oh, and immunity doesn't extend to Disorderly Conduct, a charge that most likely stemmed from their heated exchange between them and the Island's law enforcement officers.  

Both officers pleaded "not guilty" at their arraignments on 30 May and were released on bond.  They are due back in court in July and face up to 93 days in jail in addition to fines.

Hmm...This is an interesting "not guilty" plea from a couple of polygraph experts.  Perhaps the truth is subjective, after all.

When It's Gone In Tucson: You Have A 3 Percent Chance

I feel like somebody broke my leg.

Tucson, Arizona resident Leif Abrell voiced what many of us felt when a bicycle was stolen from us.  He lost his custom-made mountain bike in the wee hours of 28 September.  Like most bike-theft victims, he didn't see that his trusty steed was gone until it was too late:  A noise woke him and he noticed the door to his carport was open.  He checked to see whether anything valuable was missing, but in his groggy state, it didn't occur to him to look in the dining room of his midtown home.  When he did, he saw that his treasured bike was missing.  And he found a much-inferior bike deserted on the side of the street next to his house.

The rest of his story is also all-too-familiar to those of us who've had our wheels whisked away:  He reported his loss to the police.  While he "didn't have high hopes" for recovering his bike, he clung to "some hopes that something would happen," he recounted.  Alas, "nothing really happened," he said.

I learned of Abrell's ordeal from an article on Tucson.com.  According to that same article, 1200 bike thefts have been reported to police in "The Old Pueblo".  Only about three percent of those cases ended in arrests of suspected thieves and, worse, there's really how many stolen bikes are returned to their rightful owners.  As in most cities, the police don't track that.

Perhaps most disheartening of all, 63 percent of this year's bike theft cases were marked as "cleared", meaning they reached some sort of conclusion. Why is that disheartening?  Well, most of those cases were closed because there wasn't enough evidence to continue an investigation.  

Everything I've mentioned confirms something known to most of us who have had bikes stole:  Once it's gone, you'll probably never see it again.

Chris Hawkins, a Tucson police spokesman, echoed a common refrain in explaining why it's so difficult to track stolen bicycles:  In most places, "bicycles don't need to be registered like vehicles."  And, he says, bicycle owners rarely record serial numbers, which can be entered into databases for access by owners of second-hand shops and other establishments where stolen bikes might end up. 

The lack of such records, Hawkins says, is one reason why, even when bikes are retrieved by cops and find their way to the evidence room, they are seldom re-united with their owners.  

While Hawkins makes good points, the cynic in me (I am a New Yorker, after all) wonders whether some police departments would actively pursue bike a bike theft even if they had serial numbers and other records.  While some officers, like some people in other professions and jobs, simply don't care, others are simply overwhelmed by competing priorities and directives. 

Sometimes I think one has the best hope of getting a stolen bike back if a shop owner or mechanic recognizes it--or if its owner encounters it on the street.

How "Bicycle Friendly" Is It, Really?

Toronto is often rated as one of the world's most livable cities, although many cyclists will challenge its 2015 designation as a "bicycle-friendly" community from Share The Road. 

One thing that makes the city inhospitable is the same thing that casts a shadow over cycling in other places:  theft. According to a recent report, only one percent of the bikes stolen in Toronto are ever recovered.

I would suspect that New York and other cities have similarly minuscule recovery rates.  I also imagine that, like the people mentioned in a story I encountered, cyclists who get their bikes back are more likely to have done so through their own efforts than with any help from the police.

In August, someone broke into the locker if Joshua Henderson's condo on the Bay Street Corridor and took his BMC racing bike.  He soon located it in a Kijiji listing:  He knew the bike was his and the person who listed it was the thief because the photos in the listing were taken in the locker.  

Joshua Henderson's bike on Kijiji

So, Henderson set up a meeting and asked the police to accompany him.  An officer told him to postpone the meeting, and he did.  But when he couldn't contact the investigator the following day, he decided to go on his own.  He filmed the encounter, including the part where the thief fled when Henderson announced that the bike is his and the police were on the way.  

In a way, this story has a not-unhappy ending:  Henderson gave police the video and details of the transaction, both of which they credit for helping them catch the thief, who was wanted in other breaking-and-entering cases. Even after all of that, Henderson says he still feels "anxious" riding his bike.

On the other hand, Corrine Dimnik and her husband are anxious about getting new bikes.  Their Cannondale racing bikes were taken from their condo's underground parking garage in May.  Like Henderson, they saw their bikes listed on Kijiji.

Corrine Dimnik's bike on Kijiji

Dimnik says she contacted the seller and scheduled a meeting in front of two uniformed police officers who were taking her statement.  But the officers told her she'd have to reschedule the meeting until plainclothes officers were available.  

About the same time the Dimniks lost their bikes, another was taken from a neighboring townhouse. The neighbor's bike was posted on Kijiji by the same seller but the neighbor was dealing with a different division and got her bike back.  Dimnik told the officer who took her statement about her neighbor's experience but he didn't know anything about it.  

By that time, Dimnik says, the seller wouldn't answer calls about her and her husband's bikes.  They haven't replaced their bikes and, she says, they're not sure that they will. 

I've known a few people who were similarly disillusioned about losing their bikes--and the lack of help they received.  One didn't take up cycling again even after moving to a rural area where bike theft is almost non-existent.

I am sure that there are many, too many, more stories like theirs in the Big Apple, as well as in Hog Town and other major cities--even the ones deemed "livable" and "bike friendly".