Panorama shows again that the UK payday loan industry is trouble

The government insists that there is enough regulation. They're wrong, writes Carl Packman.

Rochdale, one of the pioneering towns in the UK during the industrial revolution, was a major mill town known for its exemplary textile manufacturing in the nineteenth century. It was also where the first fully documented credit union in the UK was set up in 1844, on which many others were subsequently modelled. 

Now Rochdale is a place blighted by poverty and unemployment (with rates 40 per cent higher than the national average).

It was also the focus of a recent episode of Panorama, showing the burden put on residents by home credit sellers and the wave of payday advance centres like The Money Shop who continue to draw bulging profits at a time of considerable financial hardship.

From various different shops, BBC reporter Richard Bilton collected nearly £1000 with relative ease and little questioning. 

Shockingly, all such shops are covered by the Office for Fair Trading (OFT). In 2010 the OFT's guidance for creditors on irresponsible lending pointed out that: 

“All assessments of affordability should involve a consideration of the potential for the credit commitment to adversely impact on the borrower's financial situation, taking account of information that the creditor is aware of at the time the credit is granted.”

At no point did any of the shops that Bilton entered assess or consider the adverse affects these loans could have on him – thus they were in breach of the OFT's guidance, as well as the codes of conduct by the Finance & Leasing Association, who independently monitor payday companies.

The problem here is light-touch regulation. In addition to guidance, the OFT can revoke credit licenses, but as David Fisher, OFT's director of consumer credit, pointed out earlier this year the OFT runs on only £11m with 120 staff in the consumer credit office. The incentive is therefore to let some cases slide.

With Panorama, Bilton also goes undercover and trains with a collection lady from the Provident – a company set up in the nineteenth century to offer loans to those excluded by banks.

A very telling part of the programme shows the lady say perversely of “good customers”, who do pay back money on each loan, that “you don't ever want them to pay up”.

This itself is indicative of the financial model of the payday lending industry and home credit itself, and really gets to the heart of the matter. Mark J. Flannery and Katherine Samolyk, in an influential paper Payday Lending: Do the Costs Justify the Price?, ask whether payday lenders can survive if they provide only "occasional" credit?

Part of a lender's schtick is that they only extend short-term credit to people as a quick-fix solution and that their model does not depend on customers rolling over on loans (taking out loans to service an existing loan).

But Flannery and Samolyk observe that, if this were true, such businesses might just survive by the skin of their teeth, though its long-term scale would be far smaller. In other words, for a lender to be completely responsible in their lending, they would have to forego profit maximisation and reduce the lifespan of their business – and given the regulatory landscape currently in force we have to trust them on their word that they follow a self-defeating business model.

Perhaps what was most disconcerting about meeting the collector Bilton shadowed was how unlikeable she was. Resorting to calling customers offensive names and lacking sympathy with them, gave the impression (despite this not being the BBC's intention) that all agents for home credit lenders are like this. This isn't the case.

It's often forgotten that collectors are sometimes just as vulnerable as the people they're collecting from. One former agent I spoke to, who worked with the Provident, took over the job from a friend who fell ill but wanted to keep her job with the company.

She told me she originally felt the company was respectable because her friend worked for them, though soon realised this wasn't true when collecting in some of the poorest parts of the area.

“There was a lot of pressure to keep selling”, she continued, “then after 18 weeks, if they couldn't pay, they'd send in collection agencies”. Furthermore, “managers themselves were giving the green light for lending to people who couldn't mentally consent, exploiting their disability.”

On several occasions she sacrificed her own commission to disincentivise customers from taking out more loans and offered them her own advice – something Provident itself would not take kindly to.

In spite of this, it is still the government's position that the UK regulatory architecture is enough. And yet it is evident that self-regulation is failing people in the poorest communities. Until such time that ministers open their eyes these practices will continue under our noses. 

Payday loans. Photograph: Getty Images

Carl Packman is a writer, researcher and blogger. He is the author of the forthcoming book Loan Sharks to be released by Searching Finance. He has previously published in the Guardian, Tribune Magazine, The Philosopher's Magazine and the International Journal for Žižek Studies.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood