A fight to the death in the world of car dealership

Personal loans vs dealer finance.

In a previous post, I expressed bafflement at an article warning car buyers to be wary of expensive finance arranged on the forecourt, at a time when all sorts of wonderfully inexpensive personal loan rates were apparently on offer from high street lenders.

I was baffled because half the “pricey” dealer finance providers the article was warning consumers about are owned by the same banks as the personal loans providers in any case, and because the other half are bankrolled by car manufacturers offering hugely subsidised interest rates that no sane bank would compete with.

I went on at some length about all this (I’m from the trade press… we don’t get out much), but the upshot was that, looking at the way the car finance business works, the assertion that customers should beware of forecourt finance is dubious at best. 

Of course, there’s a lot more to consider than just price when weighing up the pros and cons of two completely different financial products, but let’s face it - it’s price that matters when it comes to consumer judgement. So let’s settle this with numbers.

On the personal loan side of things, Bank of England data shows that the typical cost of a £5,000 loan has steadily risen every month for the last five years, from an average rate of 8.7 per cent in March 2007 to 15.8 per cent in April 2012.

Now, this figure is a mean of all lowest advertised rates in a given month, and does very little to reflect the actual average interest rate of personal loans underwritten in a given month.

And to be fair to the loan providers, there has been a hard core of aggressive players, supermarket players M&S, Sainsbury’s and Tesco among them, pushing in the opposite direction over the same period. In May, we tracked no less than seven lenders duking it out between 6.0 per cent and 6.3 per cent (for a theoretical loan of £8,500 over 4 years). But overall, this action has been drowned out in the Bank of England stats by the mass of more cautious lenders in the UK.

Now let’s look at what’s happening in the world of forecourt finance. As I have already alluded to, more than 50 per cent of all finance deals offered each month are subsidised by manufacturers, dropping them way beyond the competitive reach of the loan providers. Include deals where discounts or freebies are offered in terms of maintenance, service and the like, and you’re looking at 80 percent of all new car finance.

As for the remainder, a quick phone round all the big providers (who are, you will remember, major banks) confirmed that their average APR on deals actually offered to consumers currently varies between 8 per cent and 10 per cent.

OK, sure. This doesn’t look too hot compared to those 6 per cent deals from the high street. But let’s not forget that those figures are “representative” APRs: since the actual rate offered by a lender tends to vary hugely depending on a customer’s credit rating, they can only legally advertise a rate achievable by at least 51 per cent of applicants. Put it another way, and 49 per cent of borrowers end up paying a higher rate.

So: half of applicants to the most competitive loan providers are probably getting a cheaper deal than between 20 per cent and 50 per cent of new car finance applicants, to the tune of 2-4 per cent in interest rate terms. I’ll admit that there’s a certain amount of beermat mathematics involved in working this out, but the conclusion is clear: there’s not much in it.   

In all of this (and I promise I’ll talk about something different now), we’ve just been talking about the new car finance market, and customers with good enough credit ratings to be considered by the manufacturer captives and supermarket loan providers in the first place.

Next time, I’ll look at the hundreds of thousands of people who’ve been completely unable to find a way to finance a car purchase since 2008, and what on earth the industry is planning to do with them. Now that’s a struggle.

Photograph: Getty Images

By day, Fred Crawley is editor of Credit Today and Insolvency Today. By night, he reviews graphic novels for the New Statesman.

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The Randian Republican who could rein in Trump isn’t a coward – he’s much worse

Paul Ryan's refusal to condemn Trump is not caused by terror or fear; rather, it is a cynical, self-serving tactic.

Poor ol’ Paul Ryan. For a few brief hours on 27 January, a week after the inauguration of Donald Trump, the Wikipedia entry for “invertebrates” – which defines them as “animals that neither possess nor develop a vertebral column (commonly known as a backbone or spine)” – was amended to include a smiling picture of the Republican Speaker of the House of Representatives.

The online prank reflected a growing consensus among critics of Ryan: confronted by a boorish and authoritarian president plagued by multiple conflicts of interest, the House Speaker has behaved in a craven and spineless manner. Ryan, goes the conventional wisdom, is a coward.

Yet as is so often the case, the conventional wisdom is wrong. Ryan’s deafening silence over Trump’s egregious excesses has little to do with pusillanimity. It’s much worse than that. The House Speaker is not a coward; he is a shameless opportunist. His refusal to condemn Trump is not caused by terror or fear; rather, it is a cynical, self-serving tactic.

Long before Trump arrived on the scene with his wacky “birther” conspiracies, Ryan was the undisputed star of the GOP; the earnest, number-crunching wunderkind of the right. He was elected to Congress in 1998, aged 28; by 2011, he was head of the House budget committee; by 2012, he was Mitt Romney’s running mate; by 2015, he was Speaker of the House – and third in line for the presidency – at the grand old age of 45.

The Wisconsin congressman has been hailed in the conservative media as the “man with a plan”, the “intellectual leader of the Republican Party”, the “conscience” of the GOP. Yet, again and again, in recent years, he has been singularly unsuccessful in enacting his legislative agenda.

And what kind of agenda might that be? Why, an Ayn Rand-inspired agenda, of course. You know Rand, right? The hero of modern-day libertarians, self-described “radical for capitalism” and author of the dystopian novel Atlas Shrugged. As one of her acolytes wrote to her: “You have the courage to tell the masses what no politician told them: you are inferior and all the improvements in your condition which you simply take for granted you owe to the effort of men who are better than you.”

Ryan is an ideologue who insists on giving copies of Atlas Shrugged to interns in his congressional office. In 2005 he told a gathering of Rand fans, called the Atlas Society, that “the reason I got involved in public service, by and large, if I had to credit one thinker, one person, it would be Ayn Rand”.

Rolling back the evil state while balancing the budget on the backs of the feckless poor, in true Randian fashion, has always been Ryan’s primary goal. Even Newt Gingrich, who served as Republican House Speaker for five years in the 1990s, once decried Ryan’s proposals to privatise Medicare ­– the popular federal health insurance programme that covers people over the age of 65 – as “right-wing social engineering”.

These days, Ryan has a useful idiot in the White House to help him pull off the right-wing social engineering that he couldn’t pull off on his own. Trump, who doesn’t do detail or policy, is content, perhaps even keen, to outsource his domestic agenda to the policy wonk from Wisconsin.

The Speaker has made his deal with the devil: a reckless and racist demagogue, possibly in cahoots with Russia, can trample over the law, erode US democratic norms and embarrass the country, and the party, at home and abroad. And in return? Ryan gets top-rate tax cuts. To hell with the constitution.

Trump, lest we forget, ran as an insurgent against the Republican establishment during the primaries, loudly breaking with hard-right GOP orthodoxy on issues such as infrastructure spending (Trump promised more), health-care reform (Trump promised coverage for all) and Medicaid (Trump promised no cuts). It was all a charade, a con. And Ryan knew it. The Speaker may have been slow to endorse Trump but when he did so, last June, he made it clear that “on the issues that make up our agenda, we have more common ground than disagreement”.

A year later, Ryan has been vindicated: free trade deals aside, Trump is governing as a pretty conventional, hard-right conservative. Consider the first important budget proposal from the Trump administration, published on 23 May. For Ryan, it’s a Randian dream come true: $800bn slashed from Medicaid, which provides health care to low-income Americans, plus swingeing cuts to Snap (the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Programme, aka food stamps), Chip (the Children’s Health Insurance Programme) and SSDI (disability insurance).

In Trump, Ryan and his fellow anti-government hardliners in Congress have found the perfect frontman to enact their reverse-Robin Hood economic agenda: a self-declared, rhetorical champion of white, working-class voters whose actual Ryan-esque policies – on tax cuts, health care, Wall Street regulation and the rest – bolster only the billionaire class at their expense.

Don’t be distracted by all the scandals: the president has been busy using his tiny hands to sign a wide array of bills, executive orders and judicial appointments that have warmed the cold hearts of the Republican hard right.

Impeachment, therefore, remains a liberal fantasy – despite everything we’re discovering about Russia, Michael Flynn, James Comey and the rest. Does anyone seriously expect this Republican-dominated House of Representatives to bring articles of impeachment against Trump? With Paul Ryan in charge of it? Don’t. Be. Silly.

Mehdi Hasan is a broadcaster and New Statesman contributing editor. He is based in Washington, DC

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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