Would Newcastle have to pay back £4bn if its Wonga sponsorship was a loan?

Interest is tricky.

When Wonga announced their intention to sponsor Newcastle United FC, it generated no small amount of opprobrium. Despite the company's best attempts to generate a positive image for itself, it is still largely seen as a payday loan company, preying on the poor for a quick buck. So it was no surprise that smart a demonstration of that fact very quickly made the rounds:

Anything with over 2,000 retweets is going to get fact-checked a lot, and debates soon broke out over whether the number was accurate. Is it?

Wonga's "representative APR" is 4214 per cent. When you take out a loan with it, it decides at the beginning of the period what your interest is, and charges it to you on the total amount of capital borrowed over that period. In other words, it doesn't compound the interest - which makes sense, because it would be hard to compound anything over a loan as short month. As a result, if you were charged an annual interest rate of 4214 per cent, then at the end of a four year period you would have to pay back: 

£24,000,000 + £24,000,000 x 42.14 x 4 = £4,069,440,000.00                                 

(That's the capital, plus four years interest.) A shade over £4bn. So James Dixon is correct.

Except that the 4214 per cent APR is already compounded. As Wonga explains, industry regulations require it to present interest at an annual rate even if it doesn't make annual loans. To do this, it is required to take the amount of interest you would pay on its longest loan, a month-long one, and act as though you rolled it over, taking out larger and larger loans to pay off the interest as you go along. If we compounded Newcastle's loan similarly, then after four years it would owe:

£24,000,000 x (1+42.14)^4 = £83,125,028,034,051.84                                 

That is £83 quadrillion. It's over one hundred times world GDP, and in the ballpark for the total value of everything on earth.

But Wonga would maintain that using that interest rate is unfair. Although they are required to present their representative APR in that manner, they have never, and would never, charge it to a customer. The annual rate of interest which they actually charge is "just" 360 per cent, and the rest is made up of the compounding which they are forced to assume. If Newcastle's loan was taken out at that rate, it would have to pay back:

£24,000,000 + £24,000,000 × 3.6 x 4 = £369,600,000.00                                 

£370m is still quite a lot to pay for £24m, but it's nowhere near billions. And in actual fact, Newcastle wouldn't even pay that much. It's not a person, it's a business, and Wonga have - controversially - launched a division exclusively for lending to businesses. The largest and longest loan it offers is £15,000 for a year, which costs £19,350 to pay back, implying an APR of 29 per cent. If Newcastle borrowed £24m for four years at that rate, then if the interest compounded, it would equal:

£24,000,000 × (1+0.29)^4 = £66,461,491.44                                 

And if it was charged in one lump sum, it would equal:

£24,000,000 + £24,000,000 × 0.29 x 4 = £51,840,000.00                                 

The root of the problem is that Wonga isn't actually in the business of making multi-year, multi-million-pound loans. The assumptions we make in trying to squeeze their business model into a shape that lets us make that comparison are important, because they're the difference between paying back £52m and £83qdrn.

Front page of Wonga.com

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Trade unions must change or face permanent decline

Union membership will fall below one in five employees by 2030 unless current trends are reversed. 

The future should be full of potential for trade unions. Four in five people in Great Britain think that trade unions are “essential” to protect workers’ interests. Public concerns about low pay have soared to record levels over recent years. And, after almost disappearing from view, there is now a resurgent debate about the quality and dignity of work in today’s Britain.

Yet, as things stand, none of these currents are likely to reverse long-term decline. Membership has fallen by almost half since the late 1970s and at the same time the number of people in work has risen by a quarter. Unions are heavily skewed towards the public sector, older workers and middle-to-high earners. Overall, membership is now just under 25 per cent of all employees, however in the private sector it falls to 14 per cent nationally and 10 per cent in London. Less than 1 in 10 of the lowest paid are members. Across large swathes of our economy unions are near invisible.

The reasons are complex and deep-rooted — sweeping industrial change, anti-union legislation, shifts in social attitudes and the rise of precarious work to name a few — but the upshot is plain to see. Looking at the past 15 years, membership has fallen from 30 per cent in 2000 to 25 per cent in 2015. As the TUC have said, we are now into a 2nd generation of “never members”, millions of young people are entering the jobs market without even a passing thought about joining a union. Above all, demographics are taking their toll: baby boomers are retiring; millennials aren’t signing up.

This is a structural problem for the union movement because if fewer young workers join then it’s a rock-solid bet that fewer of their peers will sign-up in later life — setting in train a further wave of decline in membership figures in the decades ahead. As older workers, who came of age in the 1970s when trade unions were at their most dominant, retire and are replaced with fewer newcomers, union membership will fall. The question is: by how much?

The chart below sets out our analysis of trends in membership over the 20 years for which detailed membership data is available (the thick lines) and a fifteen year projection period (the dotted lines). The filled-in dots show where membership is today and the white-filled dots show our projection for 2030. Those born in the 1950s were the last cohort to see similar membership rates to their predecessors.

 

Our projections (the white-filled dots) are based on the assumption that changes in membership in the coming years simply track the path that previous cohorts took at the same age. For example, the cohort born in the late 1980s saw a 50 per cent increase in union membership as they moved from their early to late twenties. We have assumed that the same percentage increase in membership will occur over the coming decade among those born in the late 1990s.

This may turn out to be a highly optimistic assumption. Further fragmentation in the nature of work or prolonged austerity, for example, could curtail the familiar big rise in membership rates as people pass through their twenties. Against this, it could be argued that a greater proportion of young people spending longer in education might simply be delaying the age at which union membership rises, resulting in sharper growth among those in their late twenties in the future. However, to date this simply hasn’t happened. Membership rates for those in their late twenties have fallen steadily: they stand at 19 per cent among today’s 26–30 year olds compared to 23 per cent a decade ago, and 29 per cent two decades ago.

All told our overall projection is that just under 20 per cent of employees will be in a union by 2030. Think of this as a rough indication of where the union movement will be in 15 years’ time if history repeats itself. To be clear, this doesn’t signify union membership suddenly going over a cliff; it just points to steady, continual decline. If accurate, it would mean that by 2030 the share of trade unionists would have fallen by a third since the turn of the century.

Let’s hope that this outlook brings home the urgency of acting to address this generational challenge. It should spark far-reaching debate about what the next chapter of pro-worker organisation should look like. Some of this thinking is starting to happen inside our own union movement. But it needs to come from outside of the union world too: there is likely to be a need for a more diverse set of institutions experimenting with new ways of supporting those in exposed parts of the workforce. There’s no shortage of examples from the US — a country whose union movement faces an even more acute challenge than ours — of how to innovate on behalf of workers.

It’s not written in the stars that these gloomy projections will come to pass. They are there to be acted on. But if the voices of union conservatism prevail — and the offer to millennials is more of the same — no-one should be at all surprised about where this ends up.

This post originally appeared on Gavin Kelly's blog