Attention, Harvard Coop:

Want to increase your profit margin? Forget those market studies. Trash the upscale ad campaign. Fire your spin doctors. And start listening to those silent consumers who never queue up in front of the case register: the shoplifters.

The verdict is in, and it's unanimous. Says one self-proclaimed larcenist, "The Coop should get smarter about how they deal with security." Another shoplifter declares that the Coop has "one of the most inept security systems in the world." Yet another petty thief uses the Coop's laxity to rationalize her crimes. "I do it partly for them [the Coop]... It's sort of like Nietzsche--'Punish the weak'...They really should crack down.

"We are constantly watching," insists Thomas A. Wagner, controller at the Harvard Coop. Cameras record customers' movements, and store detectives posing as shoppers are present "at all times," according to Allan Powell, general manager of the Coop. During peak shopping periods, uniformed Cambridge police officers even stand guard over the merchandise.

But shoplifters tell a different story. One senior male says he has purloined "about 80 CDs, 20 to 100 books, T-shirts--those white underwear T-shirts--notebooks, candy bars, posters, blank tapes." Audacity, he claims, is the best disguise. "I never slipped anything [under] my coat," he says. "I just walked straight out of the building...I would never try to be covert in any way."

"You don't have to conceal things," agrees a senior woman. She occasionally resorts to deception, however. "I've taken bras: you go in, you put on a bra, you put your shirt on, and you leave," she says. "It wasn't a color I would have bought--it was a kind of beige...a sturdy bra," she recalls.

A female resident of Adams House says the lack of electronic security devices is a boon to shoplifters. "I've stolen lipstick, makeup, pencils and pens, candy... It's easy--they don't have [electronic] tags on anything, so you don't have to worry about something beeping as you walk out the door."

According to Wagner, the Coop has decided that a system of electronic monitoring devices would not be "cost effective."

But tags alone won't solve the problem--even the Coop's physical layout seems conducive to stealing. Shoppers can roam freely from department to department without having to pay for the goods they carry. This policy was designed "for the convenience of the customer," says Wagner. "You put goods out so customers can touch them, feel them, inspect them, so on."

But shoplifters say the free-range policy makes stealing easier. Instructs a senior woman, "What you do is go in, you take something, you walk around to a different part of the store, then you go out." This technique has proven so successful, she claims, that "it was because of me that they moved the health and beauty aid section to the basement."

Some petty thieves romanticize their motivations. The senior male confesses to feeling an "intense psychological thrill" when he shoplifts, like "hang-gliding, parachuting, life on the edge."

"Afterwards, I feel fairly crafty, like I've beaten the system in some small way," says the Adams House resident. "I don't really feel any guilt; I feel it's a necessary part of the capitalistic system."

But shoplifters beware: sometimes the Coop is watching. "One day I walked right out with a light bulb and a pillow case," recalls the senior male. "These two scary guys came up and grabbed me and made me feel awful. Then I was put in jail and I had to promise I would never go to the Coop again."

His voice is mournful. "I feel like over the years the Coop and I really developed a working relationship. I feel hurt and confused that they chose to end our relationship in this way."