The person writing these lines is a gemologist. But also a jeweller. Which means someone who keeps a large part of his livelihood and commercial assets in a public space where, quite frankly, anything can happen.
There are many gemologists who also run jewellery shops. And they can all testify to the fact that behind an illuminated shop window there is far more than microscopes, instruments, gemstones, watches and precious objects.
There is tension. Constant vigilance. The awareness that every working day is spent surrounded by items of value capable of attracting the wrong kind of attention. Many IGR readers know this feeling intimately because they live the jewellery trade from the inside. They understand the quiet strain that accompanies every opening, every closing, and every sensitive movement throughout the day.
To be a jeweller today is to live alongside very real risks. Night-time burglaries, armed robberies, organised scams, raids during opening hours — incidents that in recent years have become increasingly aggressive, calculated and sophisticated.
And it is not only the shop that is targeted, but the peace of mind of the people working inside it. Because the study of gemstones, and the daily handling of precious objects we genuinely love, ought to offer the calm and pleasure that contemplation brings.
Those who immerse themselves in the magic of coloured gemstones without managing a business responsible for safeguarding them should understand one thing clearly: inside a jewellery shop or goldsmith’s workshop, there comes a point where poetry and fascination abruptly give way to reality. Carelessness is simply not an option.
Security carries a cost — emotionally as much as financially. And financially, the burden is considerable. Reinforced doors, bullet-resistant glass, certified safes, CCTV systems, alarms linked to monitoring centres, controlled-entry vestibules and fogging systems have all become essential. These are major investments, made even heavier by increasingly expensive insurance premiums and ever stricter security procedures.
Yet anyone working in the trade knows perfectly well that technology alone is not enough. Real security also lies in daily habits: checking outside before opening the shop, avoiding predictable routines, never being alone at vulnerable moments, paying close attention to movements and suspicious behaviour. Over time these precautions become instinctive — almost a second nature.
And still, the issue is not merely financial. After a robbery, what lingers most is often the psychological weight. Many jewellers admit they no longer experience even the simple act of raising the shutters in the morning with complete peace of mind. Anxiety, tension and fear inevitably affect family life as well, especially in long-established family businesses where husbands, wives, children and relatives work side by side.
When a jewellery shop is attacked, moreover, the damage extends far beyond the business itself. In smaller towns especially, jewellers are often historic local institutions, built over generations through trust, reputation and personal relationships. Every theft or robbery increases the wider sense of insecurity amongst traders and residents alike, gradually weakening the fabric of local commerce.
It is only natural to be fascinated by precious objects, and many who approach this world are captivated by its beauty. Yet the profession of the jeweller remains uniquely complex. Alongside wonder and enchantment must come security, vigilance and self-protection.
Because this profession is not simply about selling jewellery or possessing technical expertise. It is also about managing risk, keeping composure under pressure, and living with a level of tension that very few people outside the trade can truly understand.
