Banks and the high street

As our banking behaviour heads online, major job losses will follow

So when was the last time you visited a bank branch? Now, be honest. The chances are that you are popping into your bank branch a lot less frequently than, say, three years ago, let alone 10 years ago.

Need to check your balance? Easy: go online. Pay a bill: ditto. Transfer cash between accounts, set up a direct debit - the answer is the same.

For many customers, the majority of everyday banking transactions can be conducted online or with a call centre or increasingly via smartphones and tablet devices such as the iPad.

This change in consumer behaviour is not yet apparent on the majority of UK High Streets but give it time.

Bank branch closures have been galloping along at a fair rate of knots in the past decade but until now have largely focused on small towns and rural communities.

Almost one-in-five UK bank branches have closed since 2000 with Barclays’ branch network for example down from 2,129 to 1,700; HSBC is down from 1,670 to 1,300 during the same period.

In the next decade, the High Streets of our larger towns will witness a major change in the number of bank branches and in branch design.

A relatively small number of flagship bank branches, vaguely along the lines of Apple Stores, will spring up in the larger cities.

But for the vast majority of us, the typical bank branch will be much smaller in scale, largely self-service with all cash held in ATMs as banks cotton on to a greater use of self-service terminals.

From a design standpoint, the branch will become more like a retail store.

Have you been in a newish branch of HSBC or Barclays recently-you get the picture?

Major job losses to come

Since the banking crisis really gathered pace post Lehman in 2008, job losses have tended to focus in the back office; investment banking roles have also been scaled back.

Staff performing IT and other support roles have been particularly badly hit in the past three years or so at the high street lenders.

Last year alone, HSBC announced plans to axe 30,000 positions around the world.

Lloyds said that it would eliminate 16,800 positions, about 1 in 6 of its total workforce.

Elsewhere, Barclays is dispensing with 3,000 roles and counting and it is the same story at major banks across Europe.

Last year, banking job cuts across Europe topped 70,000.

But job losses at the High street branch level have barely started.

Take RBS. It is one of the most enthusiastic cost cutters in the High Street – all of course part of its masterplan to “rebuild the bank”.

Last year, it managed to lose a mere 500 branch staff, reducing retail banking total employment from 28,200 to 27,700.

There is far worse to come.

If the bank branch is to prosper, the customer experience will have to change.

Virgin Money’s lounge vision, providing a comfortable space for customers to have a coffee, relax, check emails or charge mobile phones, demonstrates how a banking brand can attempt to restore trust, deliver something different and attract customers.

Another high street strategy entirely is being pursued Lloyds TSB, where a new branch design is designed to enhance the role of the bank within the local community.

In a number of its markets – but not yet in the UK - Santander has rolled out Santander Select outlets, upmarket branches providing a level of comfort not normally associated with a humble bank branch.

Nationwide Building Society is also investing with plans to refurbish its entire retail network of 700 outlets over the next two years.

That is about it for good news.

 

Douglas Blakey is the editor of Retail Banker International

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What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.