Shoplifting is a huge and rising epidemic: it's the reason why one in three women prisoners is sent to jail. Neal Lawson looks at the true human cost of consumer desire - and five women tell Julie Bindel their stories.

The average shoplifter steals at least twice a week, gets caught one time in 48 and is then handed over to the police in 50% of cases. But while the odds of getting away with it may sound good, if caught, the punishment can be harsh. According to Home Office figures, one in three of the women in prison is there for shoplifting - and 80% will reoffend within two years of release. They pose no threat, except to retail profits, yet more women are imprisoned for shoplifting than any other crime.

Some of these are women struggling to make ends meet, some are drug addicts, some professional criminals, but others will have developed a compulsion to steal at a young age and returned to the habit in times of stress. Studies show between 2% and 10% of adults have some compulsive shopping tendencies, ranging from oniomania (a term for obsessive buying first coined in 1915) to lying about purchases and borrowing or stealing money to shop. And women are nine times more likely than men to be affected - one study found up to half of all 14- to 18-year-old girls in Scotland, Italy and Spain displayed signs of shopping addiction.

It's perhaps not surprising that so many of us lose control in our extreme consumer society: we are not meant to be in control of anything, least of all the urge to shop. Compulsive shoppers tend to spend when they feel down, buying things they don't need, often returning or rapidly disposing of them and running up large debts in the process. At the extreme end of the spectrum are kleptomaniacs, driven to steal by the same compulsive urge that fuels gamblers and drug addicts. Then there are those who resort to stealing to maintain their lifestyle in these recession-gripped times.

Shoplifting is a huge and rising epidemic. In 2007 it cost companies £205m, up 8% on the year before, according to the British Retail Consortium. The actual losses are thought to be at least three to four times as much and, it predicts, will increase sharply in the recession. Meanwhile, under pressure from retailers, courts continue to hand out prison sentences instead of support and fines. When Tony Blair came to power in 1997, there were 129 shoplifters in prison; now there are 1,400.

This dark side of our consumer culture is hardly ever discussed. Prison is an easy way to deal with the symptom, but few want to look at the causes of empty lives and useless materialistic hopes; at the other side of a society constructed and run on the assumption that the more we buy, the happier and freer we become. Shoplifters expose the fraud of turbo-consumerism. They lift not just the goods but the lid on the system, exposing its intent to sell us stuff we don't need by exploiting our anxieties and insecurities. They are what we could be if we don't keep ourselves in check. They hold up a mirror to us, showing us the horror of what happens when shopping goes wrong; the ugly, dark and disownable side of the shopping myth.

- This is an edited extract from All Consuming: How Shopping Got Us Into This Mess And How We Can Find Our Way Out, by Neal Lawson, to be published by Penguin on 25 June at £10.99. To order a copy for £9.99 with free UK p&p, go to guardian.co.uk/bookshop or call 0330 333 6846

Lizzy, 28, began stealing aged 12; gave up before she was caught

My parents separated when I was 11 and it had a huge impact on our family. My brother and I stayed with Mum, and it hit us hard financially. I had been at a fee-paying school and I had to leave. A lot of the kids at my new school were from council estates and I was seen as posh. I was bullied and felt bad about myself. At 12, I began smoking, drinking and shoplifting.

At first I'd just take sweets and chocolate, then I moved on to make-up and jewelery. Everyone at school knew about the smoking and drinking, but I have never told anyone about the stealing.

I hated the situation I was in and the shoplifting was about having some control over my life. I told myself it wasn't really wrong because I was taking things from big stores and they wouldn't miss a few chocolate bars. There was a girl in my school who stole from her friends. I thought that was terrible and totally different from what I was doing.

It got to the point where I didn't care if I got caught. Mum didn't really know what was going on at school, anyway. I was getting caught drunk, so the stealing didn't seem such a big deal. I think it was probably a form of self-harm. I certainly don't remember getting any thrill from it or ever enjoying it. If I was unhappy, I'd go shoplifting and get some nice things, but it didn't really help.

The last time I stole anything was when I was 14. I took a top from a charity shop and afterwards, when I really thought about it, I couldn't believe I'd done something so awful. I realized I had crossed a line. Now, if I heard that a young person was doing what I did, I'd try to get to the bottom of why, rather than judge or condemn them.

I still have a ring I stole as a teenager. I really like it, but I can't wear it because I feel too guilty.

Rikki, 40, shoplifted in her teens and early 20s; was never charged

My mother ran a clothing store in a small town and girls would steal from us all the time. We got to look out for the signs - empty hangers and shifty looks. Basically, I learned from them.

At college I developed an eating disorder and began to feel quite anxious as a result of the diet pills I was taking. When I felt reckless, I'd go shoplifting. I dressed well and talked to staff in the store. I appeared very confident.

I mainly took food - once a cheesecake the size of a tire, another time a whole lobster. I remember going round a grocery store and looking at all the expensive food, thinking, "I can have anything I want." It was an amazing feeling of power.

But most of the time I would just steal things like cookies, then sit in my car, cramming them into my mouth. It was real self-hatred stuff. I shoplifted because I hated myself, and doing it just made me feel worse.

When I started to need books for college, I'd wear a coat with a torn lining and hide them in its folds. I would never steal from independent shops. When things were stolen from our shop, it hit us quite hard, so I only stole from big stores.

One time I got caught. A guard stopped me at the exit and asked if I had taken something. I said yes, and did he want me to put it back or go and pay for it? He was trembling, and he didn't know what to say; he just let me go.

My father was a detective and my brother was a policeman, so I always imagined that if I got caught, I'd find a way to get out of going to court, though in reality they probably wouldn't have stepped in. Now I see that if I had been prosecuted, it would have been a disaster for my family.

I finally stopped shoplifting because I'd proved to myself that I could do it and get away with it. It's never attracted me since. Now I have a good job in the media, and if I want something, I buy it.

Sarah, 34, has shoplifted for 18 years; has never been caught

I left school at 16 and found it hard to get a job because I didn't have any qualifications. There were constant arguments at home, so I left and got a flat of my own. It was really hard to survive on benefits and pay all my bills on about £40 a week. I began to shoplift because I had no money.

I taught myself the ropes. It was just random things to start with, like batteries, that I could sell on for a couple of quid. I would also take most of my food for the week from supermarkets. It becomes a habit. You don't want to leave a shop without something.

I was caught once, a few years ago. I was arrested and kept in a police cell for six hours, then cautioned by the sergeant. He said that he wanted to give me a scare, but to be honest I couldn't afford to stop doing it. I can't get a job because most are from nine to five and I have a young son. I don't want to see him going without. Other parents on benefits have kids that are quite deprived and I think that's sad. My partner is a crack addict. He doesn't work and has spent time in prison - he's just another mouth to feed.

Eighteen years ago, when I started shoplifting, it was a lot easier, but I have got much better at it, so it balances out in the end. You find the blind spots in shops. I've lined my bags with tin foil before, to stop the alarms from going off, but they've changed the systems now.

Once I was in a massive store and there was such a big queue I decided to go for it: I walked out of the place without paying, right past the checkout. I had about £200 worth of clothes and food and other bits and pieces in there. Part of the addiction is the adrenaline rush.

I take about £100 worth of stuff a week - at Christmas you can get away with murder because everywhere is so busy - but I would never nick from a corner shop or steal an old woman's handbag. I only take from big stores, and they're insured for it. I'm not a dishonest person; I see it as a victimless crime. Since I had my son, I do worry about people finding out. But how else am I supposed to survive?

Christine, 30, got 12 months community service for shoplifting

When I was a teenager I stole a pair of shoes, but I got caught. We didn't have much money, and it was peer pressure. My family went ballistic, so I didn't do it again for a few years, but by 19 I had met my partner and we were really poor. We shoplifted to put food on the table and found we were good at it. Every time we needed money, we'd get orders from people for racks of jeans and stuff to sell on. I'd go out smartly dressed with an immaculate bag, looking like I was on my lunch break. With the circle we mixed in, it was totally acceptable.

I stopped after a couple of years when our first daughter was on the way, but two years ago I met a girl who was into nicking and we started doing it together. I had just moved house and couldn't afford to pay the bills. Besides, I had three children by then and I wanted the best of everything for them. If there was another way of them not being deprived, I'd have done it, but there wasn't.

We had orders for everything from bedding to electrical goods to clothes. The house was filled with flatscreen TVs, the cupboards bulging with the best food. I was on at least a grand a week. I'd fill a trolley and walk out.

Then I was caught. A customer told the store manager and she caught up with me in the car park. I gave the stuff back and drove off, but a few months later I was pulled over by police for having a dodgy light. They must have put two and two together, because next day they turned up at my house and arrested me for theft. I was given 12 months' community service, then my mum died, so I was put on probation.

I finally stopped because my son took something from a shop one day and when I told him off, he said, "But Mummy, you do it." I had no idea he knew. I realised it had gone too far.

Then last year I had a panic attack in a department store - I started having them when my mother died - and walked out with a dress because I wasn't thinking straight. I'm up in court for it next month, but I'm pleading not guilty because it was unintentional. I've had support from the Women's Turnaround Project, but if the government had supported me, and given women like me help to bring up our kids, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

Laura, 45, has shoplifted since she was 17; was jailed for six months

I grew up in terror of my stepbrother. He came to live with us when I was five and he was 11. I was bullied and beaten up by him, and he abused me sexually from seven until I left home at 17. Soon I was addicted to glue, then heroin. I'd shoplift to support my habit - I had no fear of being caught, just of not having enough to score. I made about £500 a week and most of it went on drugs and fags.

I'd nick stuff to sell on in pubs and the park: a bag, a duvet set, perfume or cosmetics. I wouldn't hide them before leaving the shop; I'd carry them casually by my side and walk out as if to take a call. That way I could always make out there was bad reception in the shop and I'd no intention of not paying for the items.

I was caught a few times and fined, and barred from most of the shops in town, but it didn't stop me. The last time I was caught I got a six-month prison sentence. The magistrate said I was a serial offender and had to be taught a lesson. All I learned was how to get drugs inside.

I shoplift out of desperation, not greed. If I could get off the gear, I'd love to have a proper job and live a good life. Women like me shouldn't be punished, we should be given help. I am an addict, not a thief.