Bike Theft: a villain origin story?

by Meg Elliot

“Having my bike stolen could really be my villain origin story,” Megs told me in a London café last month. The ‘villain origin story’ has been one of TikTok’s recent hits, where creators chart the events that led their behaviour to change. In the aftermath of the theft of my own bike, I had also begun to daydream about cracking open locked bikes, wondering how easy they would be to free, how it would feel to pedal off on a bike that wasn’t mine. Both our villain origins remain incomplete, but sparked the question: what is the psychology of loss? More acutely, what happens when the thing stolen is a bike?

The Theft

My bike was stolen last month in Leeds. I’d escaped back to my university town, running from the impending stomach-punch sadness of a breakup into the arms of loving friends. I locked my Kona Shred up outside the Tetley art gallery, and one pint and 45 minutes later, I returned to find it gone. No trace was left; the car park remained undramatically empty. Through lumped throat, I recalled its features to the police: the hideous brown frame I’d come to love; the grips my friend had won at a downhill competition when he was a kid; the handlebars donated by a resourceful friend. It felt irrational to cry about a £60 bike, but for me the bike meant freedom. It was the tool I needed to progress in the sport I was beginning to love, that challenged and terrified me. 

When I asked friends and fellow mountain bikers how it felt when their bikes were stolen, most people reported feeling unexpectedly, and overwhelmingly sad, outraged, and violated. Elisa’s bike was stolen from her house whilst she was away for a week, the thieves bypassing most other valuables. Cath had her bike taken a few years ago and has ‘never quite got past that feeling of injustice and being violated’. Mischa rode his bike for an hour and a half each day to university in London, the commute a cherished ritual. When it was stolen, he was left bikeless for six months and his mental health plummeted as a result. It is not irrational to mourn the loss of a bike, but - saddeningly - normal.

The theft of a bike is twofold. Like all thefts, it is a crime of possession: the theft of something that belongs to you. But a bike is not just a bike, it is an object transformed by a body into a tool for transport, or to send you skidding down hillsides for pure enjoyment.

The Science – why do we feel the way we do?

Exercise related endorphins are intimately connected to our understandings of bikes - when ridden enough. Neuroscientist Wendy Suzuki and others have found that even after a small aerobic workout of thirty minutes, the levels of neurotransmitters - including serotonin and dopamine - in the brain increase, raising mood and energy levels. As these neurotransmitters rise in the brain, our connection with the bike we are riding increases. Exercise doesn’t just make us feel good, it can literally change our brain. Sustained exercise can cause the hippocampus to grow, improving long term memory, and the prefrontal cortex can become enlarged too. 

These recorded benefits are enhanced by the ‘endowment effect’. We place a greater value on objects once we understand them as ours, especially when they hold ‘symbolic, experiential, or emotional significance’. Bikes become signifiers of a kind of exercise-induced euphoria: I know that riding my bike will clear away the cobwebs in my brain. I also know my bike. I know how it feels under me, I know how much pressure to apply on the breaks, which gears to avoid, and which will hammer me home. We build relationships with the things we own, especially when we know they have real consequences on our mental and physical health.

“My two mountain bikes got stolen last December,” said Cheryl from the online forum ‘Women’s Mountain Biking Experience’, “and my life hasn’t been the same since.” With the popularity and cost of bikes soaring due to the pandemic, she has been unable to afford replacements. Pandemic related lockdowns, and the subsequent rise in the popularity of outdoor pursuits has resulted in an 125% increase in bike thefts during the second lockdown. It is a lucrative business, and one that cost the UK £200 million in 2019, despite only one in three victims reporting thefts. With only 5% of stolen bikes returned to their owners, many lose hope of ever getting their bike back.

The Rescue

I am one of the lucky 5%. After realising that my bike was gone, I filed a report with West Yorkshire Police. Within the hour, they informed me that, as there was no suspect, the case had been filed. A few weeks later, I came across my bike on Facebook Marketplace. Beautiful, brown, and sparklingly clean, it was my Kona. Immediately, a plan was hatched: I had already messaged the seller, and my friends were gathering muscle to drive round to the guy’s house and guilt trip him into returning it. Fool proof. After updating the police, they tracked down the right house and picked it up on in the midst of storm Arwen snows. 

         I know I was lucky to get my bike back. Lots of people never do, with a quarter of those having lost a bike unlikely to ride again, and 66% cycling less than they did before the theft. There is a violation connected to the theft of a bike. It is never just a bike that is stolen, but the joy we come to associate with it. Someone took that away, and for many, this is an irrevocable theft. 

A Bike-Filled Future?

         Megs said that the theft of their bike could have been their “villain origin story”, and this isn’t surprising. Many people get away with these kinds of crimes, with only one in fifty cases solved. “I dare say we will not get a conviction for the seller, they have given an account which can’t be proven or disproven”, the police wrote to me in an email. Understaffed and overworked, the police often don’t have the people power to adequately process every bike theft.

         But things are changing. Scottish Police have launched the ‘Pedal Protect’ campaign, which involves 23,000 officers and staff working over 300,000 square miles. They host ‘bike marking’ events and work with bike shops to encourage clients to register their bikes at point of purchase. BikeRegister similarly encourages us to upload our bike’s details on their database. With over one million registrations, BikeRegister is an invaluable resource in safeguarding our bikes from theft and reclaiming them if they do get stolen.

         So, there is hope! The theft of our bikes might not have to be our villain origin stories after all, but in the meantime keep those bikes double-locked!