The end of free UK current accounts?

The end of free checking gathers pace.

On 24 May, Bank of England executive director for banking supervision Andrew Bailey said that the "myth" of free banking enjoyed by customers when not overdrawn made it hard to link costs to products and services received.  UK current account customers will not warm to his argument or its likely implications but the High Street banks will welcome the argument to end free checking if-in-credit.

It is a trend already being endured by customers in Ireland. If you think that the banking crisis was bad in the UK, spare a thought for customers across the Irish Sea. Following a sector wide crisis in 2008 – the cost to the Irish taxpayer so far is about €70bn, give or take - six Irish owned banks have become two so called ‘pillar banks’. The big two (pillar) banks left standing – Bank of Ireland and Allied Irish Banks - are now rewarding taxpayers for their support by ramping up fees for everyday banking for a sizeable proportion of the country.

Bank of Ireland kicked things off by raising fees affecting almost one-half of its 1m customers in March. AIB has come out in sympathy and will follow suit with the end of universal free checking from 28 May. Only Royal Bank of Scotland-owned Irish subsidiary, Ulster Bank, now offers universal free current accounts. It does not however rule out following Bank of Ireland and AIB.

Ulster Bank spokesperson Debbie McCaughey said:

"I can confirm that Ulster Bank does not charge a monthly fee on standard current accounts. As with all our products and services, we keep our current account offering under continual review."

So we now have the irony of the UK government bailed-out RBS Irish subsidiary standing to win over account switchers from the two Irish government-backed lenders, Bank of Ireland and AIB. There is one further irony. Bank of Ireland has not (at least not yet) ended universal free if in credit current accounts for its customers based in Northern Ireland.

In fairness to Bank of Ireland, a lot of its customers can get around the monthly current account charges. If, for example, they deposit at least €3,000 into their current account and make nine debit payments from that account using the telephone or online banking over a three month charging period, they will avoid charges. Students and customers aged over 60 are also exempt. In addition, customers who maintain a permanent credit balance of at least €3,000 (a relatively small percentage of clients) qualify for free banking. Customers not qualifying for free banking will pay €0.28 per transaction or a flat fee of €11.40 per quarter for up to 90 transactions with excess transactions charged at €0.28 each.

AIB’s fees strategy is worse – much worse. AIB spokesperson Helen Leonard told me that the fees change “is driven by the need to enhance cost recovery across all AIB businesses, including the provision of money transmission services, the cost of which is significant.” So from 28th May AIB will seek to recover some of the losses it incurred following the crash by imposing current fees for customers who do not maintain a minimum daily credit balance of €2,500 for the full fee quarter on a personal current account.That will take in 60 per cent of its current account customer base. The 40 per cent of exempt customers will, in the main, be the other exempt customer categories: students, recent graduates and clients aged over 60. The 60 per cent of AIB customers affected will be charged €0.20 per debit card transaction while writing a cheque or withdrawing cash at an AIB branch will cost €0.30 per transaction.

In a statement, Bernard Byrne, director of personal and business banking at AIB, said:

"Free banking offerings across the industry have changed significantly in recent times. While this was a difficult decision to make, nonetheless it is a necessary one if we are to continue to create the conditions in which we can become a strong and viable entity again."

The fees bombshell for Irish bank customers follows an incessant stream of bad news in the local banking sector. Around 6,000 banking staff in Ireland have left the industry in the past three years. Thousands more are set to follow with AIB looking to shed another 2,500 jobs; Bank of Ireland will let up to another 1,000 staff go under a voluntary redundancy scheme agreed with trades union The Irish Bank Officials Association.

Ulster Bank is also bloodletting and will lay off 950 staff in the short to medium term.UK High Street lenders will be watching intently to see if Bank of Ireland and AIB can make the current account fees stick.With such limited competition on the Irish Main Street, there is every chance that Irish customers –or at least those who do not switch to Ulster Bank - will just grin and bear it.

In the UK, there are already 10m chargeable current accounts, with customers paying an average of £185 in fees per year.That is already worth big bucks to UK banks: about £1.8bn in fees last year across the sector.But such accounts are termed packaged accounts (or added value accounts, as banks prefer to call them) and typically offer a bundled range of incentives such as mobile phone insurance and car insurance, other preferential financial services including overdraft, personal loan or mortgage, as well as non-financial products and services.

There were approximately 54m active current accounts in the UK in 2011 and packaged current accounts made up about 17 per cent of the UK retail banking market. The number of charged for current accounts on offer in the UK (69) has more than doubled from the 33 on the market just five years ago and since late 2009 has exceed the number of free in-credit current accounts on the market. Thus far, no UK bank has gone for broke and made the decision to start charging for all current accounts for fear of losing market share. With encouraging noises off from Andrew Bailey – and a bank sector enthusiastic about finding new ways to charge for services currently not charged for - that day may not be far off.

Douglas Blakey is the editor of Retail Banker International.

Bank of Ireland: Photograph: Getty Images

Douglas Blakey is the editor of Retail Banker International

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era