WINNIPEG — Teen car thieves have long been a problem in Winnipeg, but lately they've added a dangerous twist - they've been smashing into police on purpose.

At least three Winnipeg officers have been hurt trying to stop stolen cars recently. Last week, police say one of their vehicles was rammed by a stolen pickup truck whose occupants were trying to get away, regardless of who or what was in their way.

That scene has played out at least nine times in the past year - four times in the past month - in Winnipeg, which has long been known as Canada's auto theft capital. Three bystanders have been killed and at least two other people seriously injured by stolen cars in the past year.

The city's auto theft problem isn't simple and experts don't see eye to eye on how to fix it. They do, however, agree that its roots can be traced to Manitoba's other dubious distinction - the province is the child poverty capital of Canada.

"These kids don't have a shot in hell," says Liz Wolff, a clinical therapist who works with five of Winnipeg's most chronic young car thieves. "Their lives have no hope. They don't have a lot of expectations about their life."

Most young car thieves lack education, supervision and financial resources, says Sgt. Doug Safioles, head of the Winnipeg police stolen auto unit.

"They don't have anything else to do with their time," he says. "They're not in school. That's really the root of the problem."

Safioles' squad members know many of Winnipeg's chronic teen auto thieves by name and have spent countless hours talking to them about why they do it.

"They'll tell you: 'It's like best video game, but better, in the whole world.' They get behind a $60,000 high-end vehicle and drive as fast as they want," says Safioles.

"A lot of them will just tell you they're just not thinking about anybody else at the time. After the event is over and they've calmed down, some feel bad about what they did. Some don't.

"They don't have the little voice in the back of their heads that says this is wrong."

Over and over, says Safioles, they tell police it's about the "rush."

That's what Brent Apter is hearing, too. He's the head of a pilot project that puts tracking bracelets on the worst teen thieves.

"It's for the rush, the thrill," Apter says. "It's about being the bad boy persona out there, or the bad girl."

The dangerous behaviour is a sign of how hopeless many young people feel, says Apter. "They live for the moment. They don't necessarily expect to be around as long as you or I."

That's what worries police most.

"The extreme recklessness and level of danger has risen dramatically," says Mike Sutherland, president of the union representing 1,300 Winnipeg police officers. He plans to lobby federal Justice Minister Rob Nicholson for changes to the Criminal Code and the Youth Criminal Justice Act.

Senators are mulling over a private member's bill from Regina Conservative backbencher Andrew Scheer that would make auto theft a separate offence. As the law stands, stealing $1,000 worth of DVD is akin to stealing a 1988 Buick Le Sabre - they're both classed as theft under $5,000. The big difference, says Mike Sutherland, president of the Winnipeg Police Association, is that the car can be used to hurt innocent people.

He argues that auto theft should be classified as a violent offence because of the risks it poses to police and the public.

Investigators note there's a direct correlation between the incarceration of chronic car thieves and Winnipeg's auto theft rates.

"If you're rehabilitating them in a custodial setting, at least you know they're not re-offending during that period of time," Sutherland says.

But, says Apter, "You can prosecute all you want, but you're not going to arrest your way out of this problem."

Peace officers in his ankle bracelet program often act as social workers. Instead of carting the kids off to jail every time the GPS tracking system sounds, they try to set the teens on track.

Apter concedes it's a tough battle."Not everybody has the same background, not everybody has the same life experience, not everybody has the same hope," he says. "

Wolff, too, works directly with teen auto thieves. One of her 18-year-old clients has been in and out of jail for one-third of his life and used to call himself a "dirty Indian," she says.

Over the last nine months, he has come to think of himself as a warrior and hasn't stolen another car.

To reach that point, some teens need social programs pretty well around the clock.

"I'm working with boys who are released from prison with no place to live," Wolff says. "There needs to be wraparound supports for them."