Introduction

This article examines the victims of heritage crime, a marginalised area of crime which has received scant academic scrutiny and has only recently begun to be recognised as a legitimate crime and area worthy of police attention (NPCC 2013). The term ‘heritage crime’, in the United Kingdom (UK) context, describes crimes against heritage sites and assets which, according to Historic England (2021a, n.p), include:

…listed buildings, scheduled monuments, World Heritage Sites, protected marine wreck sites, observation areas, registered parks and gardens, registered battlefields, protected military remains of aircraft and vessels of historic interest and undesignated but acknowledged heritage buildings and sites.

However, heritage crime is effectively a crime ‘in limbo’. By this, we mean that it is recognised informally as a crime, but there is no overarching law specifically pertaining to heritage crime (although there are specific laws for specific types of heritage crime). Additionally, and importantly, heritage crime is not required to be recorded by the Home Office (Shelbourn 2014a; NPCC 2017). Legally then, ‘heritage crime’ is not a self-standing criminal offence (Poyser 2020). However, we know from the limited empirical research available (Oxford Archaeology 2009a, b; Shelbourn 2014b; Poyser and Poyser 2017) that despite not being classified as a crime, heritage crime has a tangible and profound impact upon its victims (Poyser and Poyser 2017; Kerr 2013). The impact which heritage crime has upon its victims is in direct contrast to the police understanding, awareness and knowledge of heritage crime, all of which are limited amongst police officers at all levels (NPCC, 2017). Indeed, many officers are unaware that heritage crime exists (Oxford Archaeology 2009b; Shelbourn 2014a; Poyser and Poyser 2017).

To compound these issues further, when officers do encounter heritage crime, the impacts of the crime are often intangible and therefore often go unrecognised, such as the loss of historical value (Poyser and Poyser 2017). The emotional impact of heritage crime is also poorly understood by officers (Ibid), perhaps because officers are looking for the more ‘tangible consequences of a crime’ (Oxford Archaeology 2009b), that they would encounter with crimes they police more regularly. Of course, these ‘tangible consequences’ may be unclear to police officers, but they are evident to victims of heritage crime and heritage practitioners from heritage bodies such as Historic England and Cadw (the English and Welsh heritage bodies (respectively), who take an interest in preventing and addressing heritage crime). This gulf in understanding between victims of heritage crime and police officers leads to a host of issues for victims, as explored in greater detail below.

Existing research highlights how, in a wide variety of heritage crime cases, police officers respond to heritage crime very poorly, resulting in victims feeling frustrated and distressed (Shelbourn 2014a; Poyser and Poyser 2017; Poyser 2020). Furthermore, officers have denied and downplayed the importance and intangible impacts of heritage crime, even after explicitly being informed of what these are by the victims (Shelbourn 2014b). Attending officers have expressed open disinterest in the crime and dismissive attitudes. Victims have also reported that officers have failed to attend heritage crime cases after they had been reported, and officers stating that heritage crime is ‘not a police matter’ (Shelbourn 2014b; Poyser and Poyser 2017; Kerr 2013). Research, more broadly within criminology, has established that certain crimes are neglected, downgraded, and marginalised by the police organisation (Loftus 2009). Indeed, historically, police officers have neglected a plethora of crimes which, with competing pressures, were perhaps deemed unworthy of police time. Many of these had a direct human victim (Hoyle 1996). It is perhaps unsurprising then that heritage crime, which lacks an immediate human victim in police terms (but is rather an ancient burial site, church, ancient monument, or wreck, for example), is not always thought of as particularly important, nor taken seriously by police officers. Certainly overall, the existing research indicates that heritage crime is not perceived as ‘real’ police work and its associated impacts and victims are not taken seriously by police officers, leaving victims marooned by the criminal justice system (Poyser 2017; Poyser et al. forthcoming).

To some extent, of course, it might be argued that heritage crime and the victims of the phenomenon should not be in receipt of police attention. Continued austerity (Grierson 2017; Dewhirst 2020), alongside a landscape of changing criminality which presents new demands for police forces across England and Wales, means that heritage crime will never be considered a policing priority. Indeed, heritage is already ‘dead’ and the possible extinction of heritage (Brodie 2002), through acts of heritage crime, could be viewed as a loss which is unimportant in comparison with the loss associated with other crimes that involve direct human harm (Poyser 2017; Poyser et al. forthcoming). From a policing perspective, there is no direct human victim of heritage crime, no individual whose life is in danger, no risk of harm or injury to a person (Ibid). Importantly, victims of heritage crime have never been classified in any fashion. This lack of a classification does a great disservice to the human victims of heritage crime who adopt the victim label. Without classifying the victims of heritage crime, we are unable to properly address the consequences of heritage crime upon different types of heritage crime victim. In addition, classifying the victims of heritage crime may aid in policing the phenomenon. Very few officers are aware of what heritage crime is, and struggle to understand and police the phenomenon, as explored in brief below.

Policing Heritage Crime in England and Wales

The policing of heritage crime officially began in 2011, with the launch of Historic England’s Heritage Crime Programme (Historic England 2021b). In 2013, ACPO (Association of Chief Police Officers, now the National Police Chiefs Council (NPCC)) produced the Heritage and Cultural Property National Policing Strategic Assessment (ACPO 2013). It was a recommendation of this document that police forces develop ‘a network of dedicated Heritage and Cultural Property Crime Liaison Officers, to promote Heritage and Cultural Property Crime at a local police level’ (Ibid: 31). This meeting ‘formalised’ the heritage crime officer role from the perspective of ACPO, and this role was introduced into forces across England and Wales. The heritage crime officer role was not to be a stand-alone role (this would be difficult to justify operationally), and so the role of heritage crime officer was to be attached onto an existing officer’s duties. An extensive literature review, undertaken by Poyser (2020), found that the trend amongst forces has been to operationally affix heritage crime to rural and wildlife crime, meaning that the role of heritage crime officer has, subsequently, been attached to Rural and Wildlife Crime Officers (RWCO). This trend was formalised in the NPCC’s Rural Affairs Strategy, which stated that heritage crime was an intrinsically linked theme in the policing of rural and wildlife crime (NPCC 2018; Poyser 2020: 28). Responsibility for policing heritage crime, therefore, generally defaults to RWCOs, who police rural and wildlife crime and heritage crime, but the policing of heritage crime tends to be ancillary to the aforementioned crimes (Poyser and Poyser 2017). They may consist of one officer with a team of RWCOs at their disposal (Poyser 2020: 241), a team of RWCOs (Kent Police 2016), or they may act entirely alone (Humberside Police 2018), depending on the force (Poyser 2020: 28). Despite the NPCC Rural Affairs strategy stating that heritage crime is intrinsically linked to rural and wildlife crime, the justification for this link is unclear.

Existing evidence suggests that heritage crime is not more likely to occur in rural areas. Indeed, Bradley et al.’s (2012: 103) findings suggest that it is heritage sites and assets on the fringes of urban centres which are more vulnerable than heritage sites and assets situated in rural areas. In fact, based on her research, Poyser (2020) argues that it could very well be the early focus on policing heritage crime alongside rural and wildlife crime by Kent Police (one of the very first forces to begin unofficially policing heritage crime), which has acted as a catalyst for further forces to adopt the approach of affixing heritage crime to rural and wildlife crime across England and Wales (Oxford Archaeology 2009b).

It should be stated here that officers who hold responsibility for policing heritage crime may not necessarily be RWCOs. Indeed, research by Poyser (2020) which involved sending FOIs to police forces in England revealed that heritage crime has been allocated to a variety of individuals including those who are not police officers but who work with, or for, the police in various capacities. These include Police Community Support Officers (PCSOs), neighbourhood officers in Neighbourhood Policing Teams (NPTs), and police volunteers (Poyser 2020). In order to simplify the following discussion, therefore, the term ‘heritage crime officer’ (HCO) is used to describe officers who hold responsibility for policing heritage crime on the front line of policing. Some of the officers in this research were RWCOs, some were not. Officers who do not hold responsibility for policing heritage crime are referred to in this paper as ‘mainstream officers’.

A Victimless and Undefined Crime?

A myth which plagues the policing of heritage crime is that the crime is victimless, and therefore, an unimportant crime for which the policing of it can wait. The lack of an immediate, vulnerable, human victim in heritage crime cases means that police forces will always, understandably, prioritise crimes with a human victim (see Poyser 2020: 66). The latter also places the policing of heritage crime very low down in a mainstream officer’s crime hierarchy (Poyser 2020; Kerr 2013). In terms of what heritage crime is, and what it ‘means’ to police officers, existing research positions heritage crime in the mainstream officer’s psyche as a ‘victimless crime’. This research includes The Nighthawking Report (Oxford Archaeology 2009a) which focussed on the heritage crime of illegal metal detectingFootnote 1. Research conducted for this report found that policing attitudes towards the crime were negative, with victims detailing excuses for a lack of police action. These included reasons such as heritage crime was impossible to police; heritage crime was fairly low down on the list of police priorities; and heritage crime lacked an immediate human victim, specifically the police view was that offenders were ‘…not mugging old ladies’ (Ibid: 98). Similarly, Shelbourn’s (2014a, b) work found that officers believed that heritage crime was a victimless crime and therefore not worthy of police time: ‘Police saw that the offence was more of a waste of time/victimless crime and…[therefore] had no reason to follow-up’ (Ibid: 192). It appears then that viewing heritage crime as a victimless crime has consequences for the victims of heritage crime, in terms of overall CJS response towards, and treatment of, victims.

Moreover, one singular, official definition of heritage in England and Wales has never been formally decided upon. English Heritage (2008, n.p) defines heritage as ‘All inherited resources which people value for reasons beyond mere utility’. Cadw (2021, n.p) (a Welsh word, loosely translated as ‘to keep’ or ‘protect’) provides no definition of heritage, but, states that its role is ‘to help people understand and care about their history and to help sustain the distinctive character of Wales’. These definitions are vague, and perhaps rightly so, because it is said to be impossible to define heritage, as it can mean vastly different things to different people (Smith 2012). Certainly, heritage is socially constructed (Graham 2002). However, social construction does not, of course, occur in a vacuum. Power is central to the construction of heritage (Graham et al. 2005). Therefore, it is the powerful who have the ability to construct heritage. As such, heritage reflects the powerful. In the UK, those with the power to construct heritage have, traditionally been the elite (Pendlebury et al. 2004). Constructions of heritage in the UK, therefore, reflect the elite, meaning that elite heritage is the dominant form of heritage here (Lowenthal 2015). The point here is that other understandings of history and heritage are ignored and/or marginalised (Waterton 2009). These also include working-class heritage, which is often shoehorned into that of industrial heritage (Dicks 2019). Indeed, working-class communities often find themselves having to fight for the conservation and preservation of their heritage (Drake 2017), unlike middle and upper-class communities. Importantly, survey data demonstrate that it is the sites and assets of the elite, such as castles, cathedrals, country homes, and historic parks and gardens, which the general public most think of when asked ‘what heritage is to them’ (Pendlebury et al. 2009: 180). This overall perception arguably contributes to how mainstream officers view and police heritage crime, as suggested by one victim cited in Poyser (2020: 123) with regard to their view on which types of heritage crime officers would be more likely to recognise and respond to:

They probably would have [attended] if it was art in a museum, or jewels in a big glass showcase…I think they would’ve gone to that. But because you can’t put a value on it, you can’t say “That cost this much” it’s very difficult for them to prioritise it for their…in what they have to deliver, and their targets… (Victim 5)

The general police perception of heritage crime as a victimless crime is understandable. Heritage crime remains largely unknown to police forces and mainstream officers receive no training on it which would help explain to them that heritage crime has numerous victims (Poyser 2020). Indeed, evidence suggests that even police officers concerned specifically with the policing of heritage crime are keenly aware of the perception held by mainstream police officers that it is considered as: “…very much a victimless crime…” (Poyser 2020: 66) whilst reinforcing the point themselves that this is not the case. A mainstream officer approaching heritage crime would be looking for a tangible, direct victim, as they would expect with most other types of crime. At face value, this is absent in heritage crime cases. The heritage site or asset is not human. It cannot feel emotions or pain. The damage or destruction of a heritage site or asset is very unlikely to produce the same consequences to human life that crimes which cause direct harm to a human, do.

It is suggested that the equivalent of the direct victim in a heritage crime case would be the person’s responsibility for looking after or maintaining the heritage site or asset (Poyser 2020). This is because the direct victim of heritage crime shares many similarities with ‘conventional’ victims and appears to experience many of the ill-effects of direct victimisation that Hall and Shapland (2007: 178) list, including shock, financial loss (direct and indirect), psychological effects (fear, anger, depression), guilt, and consequential effects (such as fear of further victimisation). For example, churchwardens have been reported as being close to tears (Cotterill 2019) after heritage crime has occurred. Friends groups (individuals who volunteer to take care of heritage sites or assets in their local community) have described feeling ‘devastated’ (Breen 2019, n.p) and as though their ‘morale [is] being kicked in the teeth’ (Wood 2017, n.p) following a heritage crime; whilst vandalism at a church in Kent not only resulted in psychological effects (intense anger) but also financial loss, as the church was forced to close due to repeated criminal behaviour (Williams 2019). The direct victims of heritage crime also appear to experience secondary victimisation in the same way that victims of more ‘traditional’ crimes do. In particular, victims of heritage crime experience secondary victimisation through unsympathetic reactions from the police (Wemmers 1996: 20) and poor police communication (Condry 2010).

Of course, from both a legal and victimological point of view, the direct victim of heritage crime does not exist. As mentioned previously, with no specific heritage crime law, there is no legal definition of a heritage crime victim. Moreover, a direct victim suggests an individual, a living being, which/who has had a crime committed against it/them. Even less traditional forms of victimology, such as green victimology, follow the basic assumption that to be a victim, the object of the crime must, at the very least, be alive in some fashion. Therefore, the concept of the direct victim of heritage crime is further refined in the discussion later in this paper, to what we call the ‘immediate personal’ victim.

A Place in Critical Criminology?

It is suggested that heritage crime sits squarely within the critical criminological canon for three key reasons. Firstly, critical criminology examines acts which are not legally defined as criminal, but which cause harm (Sollund 2015: 4). Heritage crime, which has no legal definition and no specific law to tackle it, requires an academic approach which is not restricted by the narrow focus of mainstream criminology (Lynch and Stretesky 2014: 4). In turn, critical criminology creates conditions under which there is an opportunity to explore victims who are ignored by mainstream criminology, victims who exist outside of legal definitions, as well as non-human entities (White 2020), all of which are key in relation to heritage crime. Lastly, a critical approach towards heritage crime is particularly important in light of the apparent disparity between treatment of elite and non-elite heritage by the CJS. Indeed, despite heritage crime not existing in legal terms, heritage of the elite still receives disproportionate attention from the CJS when subject to criminal behaviour. For example in 2019, a toilet was stolen from Blenheim Palace (Gayle 2019), for which the police response and media interest were significant. Yet, when vast swathes of industrial heritage sites and assets are subject to heritage crime, they appear to receive comparatively less attention, in not having uncontested importance automatically ascribed to them; as elite heritage does (Gould 2015; Dicks 2015; Poyser 2020: 8).

Methodology

Before the research methodology is outlined, it is important to note that within policing, heritage crime is generally allocated to Rural and Wildlife Crime Officers (RWCOs). As mentioned earlier, where this is not possible, individuals who work with, or for, the police will be allocated the heritage crime officer role. Those who have responsibility for policing heritage crime are greatly varied, and because of this, these individuals are referred to collectively below as ‘Heritage Crime Officers’ (HCOs).

The research methodology which led to the development of the victim typology (outlined shortly) consisted of 32 semi-structured interviews. These interviews formed part of a multi-method qualitative research design (FOI requests were also utilised in the full study) (Mason 2006).

Of these, 12 semi-structured interviews were conducted with heritage crime officers in England (N = 8) and Wales (N = 4), a further four interviews with heritage practitioners in England (N = 2) and Wales (N = 2), and finally, 16 interviews with victims of heritage crime (N = 8 in England, N = 8 in Wales). Interviews were conducted across the year 2018–2019.

Purposeful sampling and snowball sampling were used: purposeful for recruiting the heritage practitioners and victims, and snowball for recruiting police officers. Purposeful sampling involves the researcher selecting participants which match the needs of the study (Morse 2000: 129). This sampling approach allowed the researcher access to information-rich cases, from which the researcher could ‘...learn a great deal about issues of central importance to the purpose of the research...’ (Patton 1990: 169). In an academically marginalised area like heritage crime, which has not been subject to any qualitative academic enquiry into the experiences of victims (and very little with regards to heritage practitioners), purposeful sampling was arguably crucial for this study. Both victims and heritage practitioners were contacted through publicly available emails. Snowball sampling was used as it is an effective method of accessing difficult to reach participants (Faugier and Sargeant 1997), such as police officers. The researcher identified accessible participants (in this instance, through publicly accessible emails), who possessed characteristics which were key to the study (being a heritage crime officer) (Biernacki and Waldorf 1981). These participants provided the researcher with details of other willing participants, who the researcher contacted in turn (Babbie 2007), until data saturation had been reached (Lincoln and Guba 1985: 233). The shortcomings associated with snowball sampling, such as limited generalisability of study results (Engel and Schutt 2014), small sample size (Patton 2002), and strong likelihood of bias (Morse 1991) were negated by the purpose of the study itself, which was to collate rich detailed data which permitted a “mirror like” view into the phenomenon being investigated (Giacomini and Cook 2000: 480); rather than to collect large amounts of generalisable data. In addition, a range of views on heritage crime were achieved, despite the small sample size and potential for bias. Semi-structured interviews were deemed to be the best approach to exploring victimisation associated with heritage crime, partly due to having been successfully employed in previous research (conducted two years earlier) on heritage crime (see Poyser and Poyser 2017). The flexible and fluid nature of the semi-structured interview (Mason 2017) allowed the researcher to probe interviewees for greater depth of responses, asking further questions of, and exploring potential points of, interest discussed by the interviewee (Bryman and Bell 2011; Berg 1989).

Police interviewees were asked about their understandings, awareness, and perceptions of heritage crime, alongside the potential obstacles officers encountered which may impede their practice. Questions asked to the heritage practitioners concerned their understanding and perception of heritage crime, as well as exploring the potential obstacles that practitioners may face in protecting heritage, from a legislative and policing engagement perspective. Lastly, victims were asked questions which explored the experiences and perceptions of heritage crime, the overall police understanding and response to heritage crime when victims reported it, and if/how they felt this could be improved. Lastly, the qualitative data generated by this study formed part of a larger study which was led by Grounded Theory. The purpose of the Grounded Theory method is to develop a theory, framework or typology (Gutterman et al. 2019: 185). Analysis of interviews, involving constant comparison via the 3-step coding process (Strauss and Corbin 1990), ultimately led to the typology of heritage crime victims discussed in this paper.

Delineating the Victims of Heritage Crime

Key findings from this research indicated that heritage crime officers, heritage practitioners, and victims of heritage crime, all shared similar views as to who the victims of heritage crime are. The section below separates the findings into that of firstly, heritage practitioners (HPs) and heritage crime officers (HCOs) and secondly, victims.

Firstly, the views of heritage practitioners and heritage crime officers were collated and sorted in the following categories, which both groups identified themselves, as follows:

  1. (i)

    The individual

    Interviewees stated that heritage crime could harm individuals, such as the people who owned heritage assets and sites: “There’s the land owner, or the occupier” (HP1) or those who looked after them: “...you’ve obviously got the person where the damage has been caused, such as your church warden...” (HCO 4).

  2. (ii)

    Local community

    The local community was cited by every interviewee as a victim of heritage crime. For example, four heritage crime officers proffered examples of churches which had been subject to lead theft. These churches were an integral part of the local community, and thus, when heritage crime occurred, swathes of local people were affected: “…it’s not just the church that’s damaged, it’s everybody…it’s part of the community, it's part of the rural life of people, it can be devasting…” (HCO 3). It was the strong sense of ownership that the community felt that they had over the local church which meant that heritage crime felt like a personal attack, leaving the community outraged: “…a church is considered a centre of community spirit…So, if somebody breaks into a church and trashes cultural items or takes valuable assets, there is far more outrage…” (HCO 8). HCO 7 argued that heritage crime is commonly assumed to be victimless, but in reality, the community often suffers significantly: “That’s right, people think it’s a victimless crime. The community suffers. It affects the wider community.” It was also clear that there was a perception of the community being violated: “…also there’s the effect on people, you know, the violation they feel about a building that they love.”(HP3).

  3. (iii)

    Wider society

    The concept of victimhood was also expanded to wider society. Society was considered a victim of heritage crime by every interviewee: “I think everyone’s the victim” (Officer 11). Interviewees felt that society was a victim because of the permanent loss which could occur as a result of heritage crime: “Things like that, once it’s gone it’s gone forever, isn’t it? So I think the impact is on society really (HCO 10).” In particular, it was the loss of historical knowledge associated with heritage crime which meant that society was a victim, according to the following heritage practitioner:

    • So we do feel society is one of the victims...they’ve [the criminal] damaged something, or removed something, or done something [meaning] that we will now no longer know, or be able to know through archaeology [heritage]. (HP2)

    Similarly, this heritage practitioner stated: “But in a way, more broadly than that, society itself is a victim. Cause you know…if they’re damaged buried archaeology that hasn’t been recorded, well that’s just lost, if they damage a monument, yes, it’s something that could possibly be put back, but it’s never going to be authentic, then that has an impact upon the monument’s significance, so…it’s like throwing a stone into a pond, it ripples outwards” (HP1).

  4. (iv)

    Future generations

    Lastly, future generations were also considered to be victims of heritage crime, for these generations would never be able to enjoy, experience and understand the heritage sites and assets that the current generation does: “...if something disappears. [people will miss out on] not being able, in the future, to interpret, understand, investigate [it].” (HCO 1).

Secondly, the views of victims were collated and sorted. The victims’ interpretations of who the victims of heritage crime were, were largely identical to those of the heritage practitioners and heritage crime officers. Victims, like heritage practitioners and heritage crime officers, argued that victims of heritage crime could be divided into four groups, but elaborated on certain categories of victim:

  1. (i)

    The individual

    The victims interviewed in this research all considered themselves personally to be victims of heritage crime. Therefore, every interviewee strongly believed that victims of heritage crime could encompass individual people. Interestingly, one victim argued that the victims of heritage crime may also constitute the offenders themselves, who in this particular case were (they informed the first author), young people:

    I want to say that victims are the ones coming as the offenders…the future belongs to the kids even though the kids don’t care that we will lose our monuments (Victim 8).

    From this victim’s point of view, the offender was also a victim, because many offenders, he felt, were unaware that they were committing heritage crime. Therefore, by damaging or destroying what was to be their heritage in the future through their current actions; the offender simultaneously became the victim.

  2. (ii)

    Local community

    Members of the local community were also believed to be victims of heritage crime: “It’s very diffusive, because it affects the whole community” (Victim 2). Heritage assets represent: “…something within the community. Life goes on around it, and it’s important to a lot of people” (Victim 15), and so when an asset is subject to heritage crime, the whole community could be left feeling aggrieved. Indeed, Victim 5 discussed how the nature of certain heritage sites and assets could draw every member of the local community together regardless of class, in outrage, when heritage crime occurred:

    • Our visitors…[are] very wide-ranging…because with some heritage crimes, there might be like a divide…with some classes caring more about it than others, but here, everybody, no matter who you are, is gonna be bothered about this (Victim 5)

    Heritage assets were key facets of numerous local communities, and whether or not the community recognised the historical value of the heritage assets, they ascribed their own personal values to them, meaning that heritage crime had a profound personal impact upon the majority of local community members.

  3. (iii)

    Wider society

    In common with the responses from the police officers and heritage practitioners, the concept of victimhood was extended to wider society: “I think all of us [are victims]. I think society” (Victim 16). Universally, the interviewees believed that each member of society was a victim of heritage crime “We’re all victims of heritage crime” (Victim 13). More specifically, heritage sites and assets were firmly embedded within the lives of a wide variety of individuals (including visitors from afar to these sites and assets) holding an importance and sense of ownership for these individuals that extended beyond the immediate community:“…people get very emotive about X and how it’s being looked after…people have historically come here as children and then grown up and brought their own children” (Victim 1).

    Overall, the victims of heritage crime were, in the words of Victim 8: “a little bit of everybody.”

  4. (iv)

    Future generations

    Mirroring the responses of the police officers and heritage practitioners, the victims also felt that future generations were victims of heritage crime. Heritage crime jeopardised the ability of future generations to learn about the past: “Future generations [are victims]. Future generations who are being denied the opportunity to appreciate and learn about what existed in the past” (Victim 12). Furthermore, if heritage crime was so severe that heritage was completely destroyed, this permanent loss was, according to the interviewees, to the detriment of future generations, who would lose both tangible and intangible connections to the past: “…with the piece of heritage, it’s the memories associated with that, and the connections that are broken down and lost to future generations…” (Victim 4).

Every participant in this research study unanimously agreed that the victims of heritage crime were wide-reaching, varied, and included phenomena that could be distilled into the categories listed above. Crucially, this was without prompting from the interviewer. Rather, these categories emerged organically, from the interviewees, themselves. As such, it became clear that sorting these categories into a typology would be a useful tool for future research in the area of heritage crime and could also possibly be applied to victims of heritage crime/cultural property crime in other countries.

These findings are important in this regard, as hitherto, the study of heritage crime as an academic discipline has lacked adequate examination of the victims of the phenomenon and has failed to categorise the various victims which emerge from heritage crime itself.

Developing the Victim Typology

Typologies are recognised as a useful method of breaking down otherwise complex concepts within law and criminology, into more easily understandable segments, allowing for a deepening of analysis (Siegel 2016; Walklate 2005). Although a typology concerning types of heritage crime exists (Grove 2013), (albeit one which is not grounded in empirical research), a typology of heritage crime victims has yet to be created. The findings of this research have been used to inform the development of such a typology. This approach was thought to be the best method of examining the types of victims, which emerged from the findings in greater detail, whilst remaining reasonably simple and straightforward.

The development of this victim typology was informed by a range of qualitative interviews with a variety of parties, including victims, heritage practitioners, and police officers. As outlined previously, this typology has been created as a result of research in England and Wales. Nevertheless, because of the nature of heritage and heritage crime in the UK, it is anticipated that this typology could be applied to Scotland, Northern Ireland, and Ireland and some other jurisdictions that are further afield.

Five Categories of Heritage Crime Victims: A Typology

The results of this research suggested that there were five categories of heritage crime victims, which are classified as follows:

  1. (1)

    Immediate personal victim

  2. (2)

    Professional or practicing victim

  3. (3)

    Community/communal victim

  4. (4)

    Remote victim

  5. (5)

    Future victim

The ‘immediate personal victim’ concerns the individual/s who directly look after the heritage site or asset in question, in a paid or unpaid role. The immediate personal victim can concern small groups of individuals, for example ‘Friends’ groups, who voluntarily involve themselves in the management and conservation of a heritage site or asset (Rugg and Parsons 2018). These victims are emotionally and actively (in terms of caring for it) closest to the site or asset, and because the site or asset cannot be a victim itself in the way the police might understand (it is not a human/non- human animal or alive); such persons are the first or immediate victim/s of the offence. Moreover, as the victims from this study reported, the individuals who look after heritage sites and assets almost always possess a strong personal connection to said site or asset, meaning that heritage crime often felt like a personal attack upon these individuals; hence the category ‘immediate personal victim’.

The immediate personal victim is similar to the direct victim of crime, but heritage crime victims cannot be considered direct victims in the traditional victimological sense. This is because a crime is not being committed against them personally (Poyser 2020). The term ‘immediate personal’ encompasses the personal connection to heritage, and the immediate impact heritage crime has upon what would be traditionally viewed as indirect victims (Ibid: 166)

The second victim of heritage crime is referred to as the ‘professional or practicing victim’. These victims include heritage practitioners, such as Inspectors of Ancient Monuments working for Historic England and Cadw. These victims not only possess a strong understanding of the value of heritage sites and assets more widely, but they are also immersed in the conservation and preservation of heritage, and the discovery and analysis of heritage finds. For example, for an archaeologist, ‘…heritage is data’ (Smith and Waterton 2012: 53). Heritage crime jeopardises or completely negates the ability for these practitioners to interpret and learn from heritage sites and assets. The practicing victim is differentiated from the other types of victim in this typology, because whilst the feeling of loss associated with heritage crime may not be as personal, these individuals arguably possess the greatest understanding of the wider impact of heritage crime (Shelbourn 2014a). The loss of knowledge and potential to learn from these sites and assets may also be felt most acutely by these individuals.

Thirdly, the ‘communal victim’ consists of every member of the local community. As this research has found, the impact of heritage crime upon the local community is often profound, as members of the community generally feel a strong sense of ownership over their local heritage assets and sites (Smith and Waterton 2012). Some of these sites and assets formed centres of the local community or were incorporated into the community’s everyday routine. Members of the local community might walk through an open site daily, for example. These victims are likely to not only be affected emotionally by heritage crime, but they may also alter their behaviour in response to the crime. For example, victims may no longer feel safe enough to incorporate walking through a heritage site into their daily lives. Communal victims are on the tertiary level of victimisation (Spalek 2006), as the harm caused by the heritage crime diffuses outwards and impacts numerous individuals.

Fourthly is the ‘remote victim’. This is an individual who is familiar with the heritage site or asset, however, they are distinguished from the communal victim as the site or asset is not part of their daily lives, nor is it local to them. These victims may only visit the site or asset occasionally, or even only once before, but it remains an important feature in these victims’ lives (Poyser 2020: 133). This victim may not be aware that heritage crime has occurred until, for example, they observe within the media that the site or asset has been subject to heritage crime (as recalled by Victim 5) or visit the site or asset after heritage crime has occurred. The distance the victim is from the site or asset does not appear to lessen their emotional response to heritage crime.

Finally, ‘future victims’ are victims who will have no knowledge of their victimisation. All interviewees agreed that future generations would be victims of heritage crime that had occurred in the present day. Future victims will lose the opportunity to understand, appreciate and visit certain heritage sites and assets if these sites and assets are permanently damaged or destroyed through heritage crime (Poyser, 2020: 167). Moreover, future victims will not be able to understand the contextual nature (provenance) of these sites and assets if they continue to be subject to issues such as illegal metal detecting, theft and trafficking (Brodie 2002). The victims in this research also illustrated how the loss of heritage disadvantages future generations, as it removes both tangible and intangible connections to the past (Waterton and Watson 2016).

A Sixth Category? Heritage Itself as a Victim

Although not identified by the victims, police officers, or heritage practitioners as a direct result of the interview questions, the idea of heritage as a victim was raised by some of the interviewees. Therefore, we propose consideration of a sixth category of heritage crime victim, which is ‘Heritage itself’. Interestingly, some victims in this research referred to the heritage site or asset in a personalised manner, essentially personifying it and demonstrating their closeness to it. In this respect then, it is important to consider the idea that heritage may also be a victim in, and of, itself. This radical conception has been broached by green criminologists who consider the environment itself as a victim (Skinnider 2013). Parts of the environment which are considered victims include flora, fauna, ecosystems and landscape features (such as hills and rivers) and are grouped under the name ‘non-human environmental entities’ (White 2020: 81). The authors of this paper argue that if non-human environmental entities can be considered victims, then there is room for heritage sites and assets, or ‘heritage entities’ to also be considered victims. Heritage sites and assets, much like non-human environmental entities, have no voice and therefore require protection from those with a voice, such as researchers and the government (Lynch 2020: 51). The loss of heritage has similarly adverse impacts to the loss of the environment, many of which are intangible (such as the loss of knowledge and the loss to future generations) and irreplaceable. For these reasons, heritage sites and assets might also be considered victims of heritage crime.

Conclusion

Heritage and victimhood are both contested spaces (Gibson and Pendlebury 2009; Cross 2018). The victims of heritage crime, therefore, are especially contested. There will always be differing perspectives between police officers, victims of heritage crime and heritage practitioners regarding the severity and importance of the phenomenon (Poyser 2020). Indeed, heritage crime itself ties into a wider debate about what heritage is, how it is defined, who is responsible for its preservation and conservation, and ‘whose’ heritage is most important to maintain (Poyser 2020: 192). Whilst differing attitudes towards heritage crime might be found between the participants of this research, where the victims of heritage crime are concerned, all participants were unanimous in their classification and assertion of the types of heritage crime victims. The latter is, perhaps, contrary to what might be assumed from the limited existing heritage crime literature, more specifically, the existing evidence which shows that police officers have poor perceptions and understandings of heritage crime victims. If the heritage crime officers in this research can recognise the depth and breadth of victims of the phenomenon, this indicates that with adequate knowledge and training, mainstream officers could do so too (Poyser et al. forthcoming).

The creation of this typology aimed to help fill gaps in not only the existing heritage crime literature, but both heritage professional and policing practice in relation to heritage crime. This typology clarifies our understanding of the type and volume of victims who experience heritage crime, how far reaching this form of victimisation can be, as well as the impact the crime has. Referring to the typology educates the user in regards to/predicts the support needs of each victim. Categorising victims in this fashion may help streamline the immediate and long-term response to all heritage crime victims. Indeed, the overall police response to and treatment of heritage crime victims will be better informed by this typology.

This typology is empirically supported by the three main actors in the majority of heritage crime cases (victim, heritage crime officer, and heritage practitioner). There is also room for the general public’s opinions to be included in a further development of this typology, and these should be explored, in another heritage crime research project. It is suggested herein that this typology might be expanded to other jurisdictions around the world. However, it should be noted that each jurisdiction has its own definition of heritage crime (Korsell et al. 2006) and differing terminology is used, such as ‘cultural heritage crime’ or ‘cultural property crime’, to describe many of the sites, assets and objects which fall under the UK’s term ‘heritage crime’. Therefore, the application of this typology, more broadly, remains to be seen. Indeed, further empirical research is needed to ascertain the usefulness of this typology in practice, from a policing and victimological perspective. Finally, this typology not only highlights the depth and breadth of heritage crime victims, but also works to prevent a ‘blanket approach’ to the treatment of victims of heritage crime.