Editor's letter.(Editorial)

A wise man of unimpeachable reputation, who also happens to be a dealer in eighteenth-and early nineteenth-century American furniture, tells me that he is not at all discombobulated by the recent New York Times report of England's big antiques scandal: John Hobbs, a high profile dealer in high-end antiques, stands accused by his restorer of selling six and seven figure commodes, partners desks, pedestal cupboards, and looking glasses that are fakes. "Has it shaken the antiques trade, as the Times reports?" I ask. It shouldn't, my friend replies, "fakes are part of the world we live in."

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Indeed they are, and we do not live in exceptional times. Fakes have always been with us. The only change from a hundred years ago is that we hear about little else and enjoy nothing more: Phony memoirs of life in the lower depths, juiced results in the Tour de France, misremembered sojourns of being under fire in a foreign country, all are part of the gotcha moment that the press has taught us to love.

So it only seems that we live with more mendacity than ever before. The truth is that we just hear about it more because the trade in gotcha is brisk and the rewards garnered by a press with little else on its mind than schadenfreude are greater.

It does, of course, look worse than bad for John Hobbs (and for my money for his "restorer" whose claims of ignorance and innocence would tax a boy scout's credulity). But what of the antiques trade in all of this? Why is my friend not worried? What might seem like a cavalier statement on his part is actually one of principle: He knows there are no shortcuts to authenticity, and he lives by the hard work of examining a piece of furniture to establish it. There will always be others out there--dealers or collectors--who only want the appearance of the real.

Actually, it was the renowned Albert ...