It seems unusual that prominence as a thief can elevate one to greatness. But that is exactly what happened to Ronnie Biggs.
Biggs was a participant in what became known as the "Great Train Robbery" of 1963. He and others stole £2.6 million from a mail train - a massive fortune at the time.
Biggs was captured, and convicted, for his part in the crime - but managed to escape from Wandsworth Prison in 1965 by scaling a wall using a rope ladder. Remarkably he, and his family, absconded to Australia - where he worked happily for a television station until he was recognised by one of its journalists.
Leaving his family behind, he then absconded to Brazil. He took clever advantage of a local law which prohibited the extradition of parents of Brazilian citizens - by impregnating a local Brazilian woman.
Biggs' succession of remarkable escapes - and cunning avoidance of the long arm of the law - earned him a counter-culture reputation. He even sang a song with the Sex Pistols!
Put another way, Biggs managed to make a life out of his wrongdoing. His theft earned him notoriety and fame - which has managed to sustain him through most of his existence.
The same cannot, however, be said of most thieves - especially those in the workplace. In contrast, workplace theft is usually at the bottom end of the scale - involving petty wrongdoing and small scale conversion.
But should this scale of wrongdoing make any difference in assessing the effect on the employment relationship? Is an employee who steals a small item as morally repugnant as a "Great" thief?
A recent case, Morrison v New Zealand Post (Unreported, Employment Relations Authority, Auckland, 5 October 2006) examines this particular issue.
Pixie Morrison had been a "postie" for 30 years. On one day, in February 2006, she delivered mail to a fast food business in a shopping mall. After she left the premises, the proprietor noticed that a cell phone had gone missing. CCTV footage was reviewed, and suggested that Morrison had absconded with it. A complaint was made to her employer.
The employer investigated and, placing reliance upon the video footage, concluded that Morrison had committed an act of serious misconduct. Following an investigation process, it dismissed her from employment. Morrison had worked for three decades in her job - for the same employer (presumably through several corporate changes). There is no suggestion that there had been any previous incident of misconduct of this kind.
But the Employment Relations Authority held that the employer's decision to dismiss Morrison was justified in the circumstances.
On one view, it could be said that this outcome - whereby Morrison lost her job of 30 years - was an overly harsh reaction to an admittedly petty act of theft. This was no Great Train Robbery, after all.
Surely she could have returned the stolen item and, provided that she demonstrated adequate contrition, she could have regained the trust of her employer? And there was no evidence of criminal changes being laid - perhaps emphasising the rather minor nature of this wrongdoing.
So, on that analysis, must a reasonable employer have some sympathy for Morrison and, particularly in view of her long years of service, decide that she deserved another chance?
In the view of the Authority, no.
The Authority held that, given Morrison's years of service, a reasonable employer would have given the benefit of doubt to any "ambiguous" conduct, or conduct which might reasonably have been the result of inadvertence. Morrison's actions were not, however, in that category. She had deliberately acted in a way which was dishonest.
The Authority noted that "posties" are charged with the role of safeguarding the mail - and that a very high standard of trust is required of them. It acknowledged that, for Morrison, the outcome was the abrupt end to a long career – but held that this was justified given the nature of her role - and its required attributes.
On this basis, therefore, one could conclude that it is the fact of dishonesty - and not its consequences (ie the amount taken) - that matters. And, where a role requires honesty, any misconduct of this type will potentially justify dismissal.
On that rationale, a cynical employee might conclude that the only type of misconduct worth committing is at the most serious end. But even Biggs' story - involving the Greatest Robbery of them all - had a sad ending.
Depressed by long years of isolation from his homeland, Biggs voluntarily returned to the United Kingdom in 2001 - where he was immediately arrested - and resumed serving his 28 year sentence.
He is now suffering ill health, and has had several pleas for mercy rejected. It seems that he is likely to serve out the remainder of his days in jail - perhaps proving that crime doesn't pay after all.