Robertson is of course an Australian great and it's nice to see him lending his powerful, eloquent voice to this debate. Robertson sets out an ordered argument for a new global compact on returning artifacts to their country of origin. For this theoretical tribunal, he lists a series of criteria, largely focusing around whether a work was stolen (implicitly or explicitly) and situations in which, even if a work was given legitimately many moons ago, it may have greater historical resonance in its homeland. He also includes the arguments that should sometimes prevent works from being returned, primarily if the country of origin does not have the facilities to care for it, or in situations where countries' human rights record does not merit rewarding them. This is a barrister's argument, as Robertson admits, and is couched in such terms.

This is an issue on which I have always been biased, despite my best efforts. I will never forget my 7th grade Latin teacher telling us (impartially) the Elgin Marbles situation; even then it seemed to me that any British argument to keep the Marbles rested solely on their claims that it was legitimately taken. Even if these were true - which is much debated - it didn't seem to me then, nor does it now, to outpace the broader ethical arguments in favour of sending them home.

On the surface, then, this book is fighting an obvious cause. As is so often the case, the argument for keeping artifacts (which is the still the world's status-quo) rests on two planks: first, that of power, namely that wealthy institutions backed by polities with an obvious interest continue to champion retention, and second, that it appeals to an arguably misplaced patriotism. No-one wants to believe that their country stole anything; no-one wants to believe that another country can better care for the world's treasures; no-one, even if they accept items were stolen, wants to upset the status-quo if it is working in their favour. (It's worth noting this isn't just a discussion to be had between countries; this is also sometimes an issue within a country, either between its states or between its governing power and the local Indigenous people.)

Yet there are complexities to the narrative which other reviewers have noted. For example, Robertson's argument is an idealistic one rather than one of pragmatism. Such a mythical tribunal would have to tell certain countries that they don't deserve their treasures back because of human rights abuses - which they may well dispute and which sometimes are in the eye of the beholder (some would argue that the US' treatment of many of its citizens is not far off) - or an inability to care for items, which automatically prioritises wealthier nations. Linked to that is the idea that some works have more global importance than others. No doubt this is true, but it's difficult to imagine any of us making that decision without implicit biases, Robertson no less than the rest.

There are some evident flaws in this book but, to be honest, the debate needs some idealists alongside the pragmatists. Right now, we are entering a period of reckoning with how we view the past. When that is done, even if it isn't until much later in the century, we must then deal with how we handle what the past has left behind. ( )