The chapter opens by questioning whether Stéphane Breitwieser suffers from a treatable disorder. He rejects labels like kleptomania or Stendhal syndrome, while court-ordered therapists—whom he resents—assess him after his arrest. He undergoes formal testing and interviews intended to explain his relentless thefts.

In 2002, psychotherapist Schmidt administers multiple inventories and concludes Breitwieser is a narcissist who feels uniquely entitled to beauty and indifferent to law and others. He views museum theft as victimless and sustainable. Schmidt argues he disregards social norms and authority, noting, “Not for a moment does he consider what would happen to society if we all thought like him.”

Other clinicians echo this view. In 2004, Henri Brunner calls him immature and identifies no neurological anomaly or psychosis; in 1999, Fabrice Duval notes impulsivity and poor foresight. Schmidt adds that maternal coddling stunted his frustration tolerance, and that meaningful change would require respect for authority, social bonds, abstaining from theft, and intensive therapy—none of which he expects.

Anne‑Catherine is evaluated in 2002 by César Redondo, who finds adequate intellect but a fragile personality, easily influenced by Breitwieser. Redondo deems her non-dangerous on her own yet recommends immediate psychotherapy, portraying her as a participant drawn along by his dominance.

Collectively, the experts agree Breitwieser is fully responsible for his actions: he knows right from wrong, functions socially when needed, and theft is not symptomatic of illness. Diagnostic labels (narcissistic and antisocial traits) describe his style but do not explain the root impulse; Brunner suggests he cannot resist temptation. With revenge on his father now irrelevant, he continues stealing with undimmed zeal.

Breitwieser supplies his own rationale: art history is rife with plunder—from the Horses of Saint Mark to imperial looting, colonial seizures, and modern market abuses. He condemns dealers and auction houses, citing scandals as proof of endemic corruption. By this logic, he casts himself as a principled rogue within an age-old tradition, hoping to be remembered as part of art’s story.