Dateline: Friday June 8, 2018
In today’s Irish Times, it is reported that “Supporters of a radical scheme to upend Switzerland’s financial system have made an 11th hour appeal to voters to approve a proposal to strip banks of the power to create new money through lending”. What a brilliant initiative and about time. I’ve just had a dust-up with my own bank, y’know, (Well, I don’t actually own it but you know what I mean) because they have the nasty, sneaky, practice of taking money out of my back pocket and giving it to people they don’t know without asking my permission. If I want to pay a bill, but don’t have enough money to cover it, then, of course, they will slap me (metaphorically, of course, across the knuckles) and say “No, no, no, you naughty man, not till we tell you that you can”. Well, what they are actually doing is processing incoming debits before my pension is lodged. They could have done it in the other sequence of first lodging my pension, and then peeling off enough to pay the incoming demands, which, I hasten to add, are legitimate. I have checked with a few other people including small businesses and the same is happening to them. As we already know, the banks are now completely controlled by computers and human staff reduced to work like robots, while their directors behave towards the public like Daleks in Dr. Who?
The trick, just in case you didn’t know, is that the system pays incoming POS (point-of-sale) requests from traders from whom you have bought something or (in my case) with whom you have a standing order for regular subscriptions. Then, if the account balance is low and there is not enough in the account at that instant, the debit is made in any case, putting the account into the red, incurring a penalty charge. When the debits have been processed, any incoming credits, e.g., my pension, are then processed, and (in my case) bring the account back into the black but with the effect of effectively reducing my pension sometimes by up to 20%.
Now if the sequence were the other way around I would not have paid any penalties in my nearly 20 years with the Bank! I have gone to the trouble of graphing my bank balance against time since I first opened the account in 2003. The clear pattern emerged that shows that anytime I have incurred a penalty was between 02.00h and 04.00h on Friday mornings. In the middle of the night! This is when all, or nearly all, of the bank staff and their families, are in the arms of Morpheus. That is also when I am usually asleep. But, as they say, money never sleeps. Note this, however, someone chose to brief the IT people in the Bank to devise that system. In that way. On the few occasions where I had been hit badly and painfully by the process I challenged them and lodged official complaints.
I should explain that my complaints were always on an ethical, moral, even a philosophical basis. I think that it doesn’t sound right to speak about money as if it were something dirty and grubby. But then I don’t really understand finance. Between you and me and the wall, I believe that money is an imaginary entity, a concept without a reason, a spirit without a body. My sympathies have always been with the Unwise Virgins. Why should any normal young woman, keep her wick trimmed and her lamp lit in the middle of the night just in case her boss came home late and on the off-chance that he might have lost his keys. Indeed I often wondered why those Virgins, Wise and Unwise, didn’t join up with the Labourers in the Vineyard while the Boss was away. I’d say now that Ten Unwise Virgins would have sorted out those Vineyard boyos, whether they came late or early. Any way, back to my complaints. One of them was acknowledged by the Complaints Department who promised to reply to my complaint within a fortnight. That was two years ago and I still have not received a reply! But me being a “cute hoor” I’m still counting down on the clock! There could be one hell of a fairy goodwill gesture in the pipeline. Hope springs eternal in the human breast.
The other magic trick to look out for is what I call “The Ride of the Little Old Man”. When someone transfers money to me it doesn’t show up in my account for about four days. The same is true if I am sending money to you. It goes out of my account immediately but won’t show up in your account for about another four days either. Where has the money been for those four days? Well, in the old days, when the bank officials wrote with quill pens and home-made ink, it did genuinely take time to record every single transaction, have it checked, signed off by the manager, and details sent to the Central Bank or wherever for whatever central banks do with that information. In fact, they sent a little old man on a high Nelly bicycle with a big woven-willow delivery box hanging off the handlebars, and it full of envelopes containing all the financial information to stoke the financial fires of the Central Bank.
Needless to say, given his age he probably stopped off every now and then to slake his thirst, chat with the lads, you know yourself. But that was back then. And it took time for the L.O.M to get there and back. And certainly he had to make more than one journey of it. And that was a thirst-creating job. And stressful in the extreme. And now? Well, you know, traditions die hard in these great, important, financial institutions. And they have maintained the tradition of “The Little Old Man” to bring a whiff of nostalgia and a stabilising sense of tradition to the business.
You have only to look at their advertisements on the telly to see how much they care about young couples starting out, starry-eyed on life’s journey, having smiling babies, buying their first house. The same financial institutions are also thoughtful to take care of the money saved up by the elderly for their retirement and, sure, isn’t that why they are smiling and untroubled by anxiety, even though their eldest son is still sleeping at home on the coach. He is at least married but his wife and children are with her mother’s people. The elderly smiling couple alluded to above. At least, the fees for the photo shoots might pay for tomorrow’s dinner. And so on. You are doubtless impressed by the care and forethought of the financial institutions, aren’t you? Like *%^??#?/*%^??#?/ (expletives deleted). Oh, and by the way, whenever I have complained very LOUDLY, and remonstrated, and used very strong undeleted language, do you know what? Within a week a fairy seems to have sent me a “goodwill gesture”. At least, that’s what it said on my account statement, the gesture, I mean. Not the fairy. And now, in my “cere and yellow years”, that’s why I still believe in the good fairy, the tooth fairy, and the f-f-f-f-f-inancial f-f-f-f-airy!
Goodnight now to children everywhere. Sleep tight and don’t let the bugs bite. Don’t forget to say a little prayer to Holy God, for your local Bank Manager and Bank Directors. And don’t forget the Swiss Banks as well. Sure, don’t they all need the odd oul’ prayer to protect them? Because they don’t know the day nor the hour when the Law Officer will come knocking on the door. “I’d like to invite you to come down to the Station with me to answer a few little questions”. Cometh the day, cometh the sentence! And, of course, it’s about time, isn’t it? The longer the time the better, sez you!