From Candy to Corruption: What Gets Noticed—and What Doesn’t

By Jeremy Hogan

BLOOMINGTON, Ind. — May 6, 2025

Tuesday afternoon, around 2:15 p.m., I watched a man in all black with a black backpack steal a pile of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups—and more—from a westside store. He just walked in, filled his pack with candy, and zipped it shut. Then he walked out and disappeared on a black scooter.

Everyone judges. They’ll say I should’ve done something. But let’s be honest—people only get involved when they have nothing to lose. I have lots to lose, and an altercation with a man that desperate isn’t on my bucket list. I didn’t sign up for a citizen’s arrest for 20 dollars in candy.

As I walked into the candy aisle—always under surveillance, by the way—there he was, crouched down, grabbing a pile of candy, more than anyone should eat. He looked on edge. At first I didn’t think much of it. I was focused on trying to find Boston Baked Beans, which have become scarce.

Then I saw him look over his shoulder while walking away with that paranoid expression of someone being watched. It dawned on me he might actually be stealing that candy. He looked disheveled, like he hadn’t bathed in a while. Probably about 5’5″, brown hair, ear-length. I don’t say this to stereotype, but something about him said he was on the hustle.

I picked up a couple of things myself—$1.25 candy, a bottle of water. I was running errands, thirsty, trying to stay on track. Packing tape, by the way, is never where you think you put it at home.

I was heading to the checkout when I saw him again. His pack was zipped now. He slipped past the long line—7 or 8 of us waiting—then politely paused to let a woman enter the store before he walked out. That little gesture threw me. For a moment, I thought, maybe he paid.

But when I asked the cashier, she said, “Nope.” I told her he just walked out with a backpack full of candy. She was swamped. Another employee jotted down the time to check the footage.

I drove around afterward, hoping I might spot him again. I didn’t. He was gone. And once you start looking, you realize how many people ride around on bikes or scooters, wearing large backpacks, in this town—dozens of them, especially near Seminary Park. Any of them could match a vague description. But none of them were him.

There was one guy under a tree near Wendy’s, holding a sign: “Anything helps.” He was trying to do it the honest way.

The candy theft happened just across from where, two days earlier, a man stole a car—with a baby in it. That guy hasn’t been caught either. But instead of focusing on him, people online went after the mother in the comments. Because that’s the Bloomington online pastime now: public shaming. Very puritanical. Very Facebook.

Meanwhile, federal agents, including the FBI, and the ATF, have been combing the city, snatching up undocumented immigrants—many of whom are working jobs, paying taxes, and living quietly—because of traffic violations. But don’t say snatched, it’s, “arrested.” There are legions of online media critics. I did another story last week about press freedom, and was trolled with a reminder of crime that happened to me, then told by this person reading for free, don’t expect him paying on Patreon.

Some of the undocumented workers, two literally on the way to work when they were stopped, were hauled off to a Kentucky jail. We don’t know the names of everybody arrested last week, or even how many.

When do you speak up? Do you just look at what’s happening, and stay silent.

Someone pointed out that IU is now making early-retiring faculty sign non-disparagement agreements. That kind of thing doesn’t happen in academia. It’s a silencing tactic. And yet, we shrug.

We worry about people who are working undocumented jobs but turn a blind eye to people stealing, or living on the street, or robbing in plain sight. The real thieves? Billionaires who don’t pay taxes, while all of us who work regular jobs, or don’t make that kind of money, pay and pay. And corporate giants fleece the public for billions.

There’s a cruel irony in watching someone walk out of a store with unpaid merchandise while a line of honest people pay for theirs—and while some guy under a tree begs with a cardboard sign. We ignore the small thefts, but even more so, we ignore the big ones. The ones that actually matter.

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