Where to go when you don't trust your bank manager

Advice for SMEs.

Whether that business is large, small or part of the squeezed middle, there is little doubt that the fight to find and keep customers - and indeed to make money from them - is harder than it has been for a long time. One area where this is very evident is in the continuing struggle to access funds. Many owners of small and medium-sized businesses are still finding it difficult to get the funding they need from their bank.

The banks counter this criticism with a valid argument that the demand simply isn’t there and many would-be borrowers simply don’t want to take on more risk at a time of great uncertainty. Nevertheless, figures reporting the number of loan applications turned down suggest that the banks are still busy taking risk off their balance sheets and as a result are either refusing to lend at all or setting very high prices on their lending.

While it is clear that the banks are in a difficult position — castigated for being both too reckless and now for being too conservative — there are some very serious long-term implications from the apparent breakdown in relations between small business owners and the banks.

It wasn’t all that long ago when bank managers were the most valued and trusted advisors for those running small businesses. 

But as a recent survey (organised by Hitachi Capital Invoice Finance, which admittedly competes directly against banks to provide an alternative means of finance) shows, trust in bank managers is currently low. Only 21 per cent of SME owners questioned said they would trust advice from their bank manager. While it’s easy to dismiss the report’s findings as a PR exercise, they tally with other polls measuring the general public’s opinion of bankers (notably the Edelman’s Trust Barometer).

Put a group of business owners together in a room to talk about finance and it won’t be long before one or more bemoans the loss of personal banking relationships and the switch to centralised, call-centre style customer service. The days of a local branch manager having a close relationship with local businesses and being able to make appropriate lending decisions (possibly over a round of golf or a G&T) are gone. For some the more strategic overview of a regional risk committee makes more sense in the modern age. But while we all welcome that added professionalism, it’s difficult not to feel that something has been lost in translation. Many business owners would welcome a move back to a more responsive and locally aware banking system.

If business has lost trust in banks, what about other advisors? In his inaugural address in June ICAEW president Mark Spofforth made it clear that rebuilding trust in the accountancy profession was a major objective for his year in office.

“It worries me deeply that the profession I joined isn’t held in the same esteem that it was when I started out as a trainee”, he said, before adding that these concerns are shared by other qualified professionals.

On the evidence of this survey, things are already improving. Hitachi found that 43 per cent of respondents trust the advice they were given by accountants, a far higher score than for any other type of advisor. This is excellent news for a profession that has experienced considerable self-doubt in the wake of the financial crisis.

There is a long way to go, but the importance of such a key customer group being happy with the advice they get from accountants is underlined by further research from the technology company Portal. This piece of research was into the importance consumers place on service. It found that 52 per cent reported they would change supplier as a result of poor service. See a name and shame graphic listing some of the worst offenders.

If trust in the accountancy profession is to be built, then chartered accountants in firms of all size and shape will have to continue to provide excellent standards of service and to provide insightful and meaningful advice, especially to business clients. As Spofforth rightly pointed out in his inauguration address: “Trust has to be earned – and once lost it can take years to rebuild. It is fundamental to a well-run economy and to a properly functioning society. And it is a concern, a worry that only we as a profession can address.

"We need to show that we deserve people’s trust and we need to work hard to earn it.”

This article first appeared in economia.

Photograph: Getty Images

Richard Cree is the Editor of Economia.

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times