Hidden charges: the next big scandal for banks?

The high cost of banks' lack of transparency.

 

If there’s one thing that the banks have probably had enough of, it’s talk of transparency. After all, their recent run-ins with transparency have been largely unwelcome and revealed some hideous schemes – LIBOR-rigging, for example, and the mis-selling of PPI and interest-rate insurance. No wonder they fear daylight.

In many senses, they’re not in the clear yet. Banks and investment management companies are mysterious, opaque and occasionally downright deceptive about the fees they charge to wrangle your money. One woman is as mad as hell about it and isn’t going to take it any more.

Gina Miller, who with her husband, Alan, runs SCM Private, a wealth management firm, has commissioned a survey as part of her True and Fair Campaign, which shows that 92 per cent of people think that investment managers should be legally obliged to provide information about charges.

Gina has spoken out angrily: “It is completely indefensible that two-thirds of people buying investment products do not know how much they are paying in fees and charges.

“But what is worse is the fact that while we call for transparency and 100 per cent disclosure, the industry continues to hide under a thin rhetorical veil promising more disclosure, not full disclosure, and wraps itself in opaque, ill-defined guidelines.”

The government has already gone to certain lengths to try to ensure transparency with its Retail Distribution Review. Investment managers no longer get paid by the people whose products they sell (a clear inducement to favour those who pay more, not whose products are better) but rather by clients. Clients should never not know what they’re paying.

Yet Gina Miller goes beyond this, to hidden fees and charges from the manager: half a per cent to use foreign currencies here, vastly inflated fees to execute trades there.

This may seem like an issue affecting the few – and who has more sympathy for them? As the True and Fair website points out, however, anyone with savings or a pension is likely to be subject to these sneaky fees, too.

Could fees and charges be the next big scandal for the banks? It’s unlikely – the behaviour is bad, not criminal – but they certainly hurt many people and the more light shone on them, the better for us all.

Fee-fi-fo-fum: banks' fees remain opaque and confusing. Photograph: Peter Macdiarmid/Getty Images

Josh Spero is the editor of Spear's magazine.

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The footie is back. Three weeks in and what have we learned so far?

Barcleys, boots and big names... the Prem is back.

Another season, another reason for making whoopee cushions and giving them to Spurs fans to cheer them up during the long winter afternoons ahead. What have we learned so far?

Big names are vital. Just ask the manager of the Man United shop. The arrival of Schneiderlin and Schweinsteiger has done wonders for the sale of repro tops and they’ve run out of letters. Benedict Cumberbatch, please join Carlisle United. They’re desperate for some extra income.

Beards are still in. The whole Prem is bristling with them, the skinniest, weediest player convinced he’s Andrea Pirlo. Even my young friend and neighbour Ed Miliband has grown a beard, according to his holiday snaps. Sign him.

Boots Not always had my best specs on, but here and abroad I detect a new form of bootee creeping in – slightly higher on the ankle, not heavy-plated as in the old days but very light, probably made from the bums of newborn babies.

Barclays Still driving me mad. Now it’s screaming from the perimeter boards that it’s “Championing the true Spirit of the Game”. What the hell does that mean? Thank God this is its last season as proud sponsor of the Prem.

Pitches Some groundsmen have clearly been on the weeds. How else can you explain the Stoke pitch suddenly having concentric circles, while Southampton and Portsmouth have acquired tartan stripes? Go easy on the mowers, chaps. Footballers find it hard enough to pass in straight lines.

Strips Have you seen the Everton third kit top? Like a cheap market-stall T-shirt, but the colour, my dears, the colour is gorgeous – it’s Thames green. Yes, the very same we painted our front door back in the Seventies. The whole street copied, then le toot middle classes everywhere.

Scott Spedding Which international team do you think he plays for? I switched on the telly to find it was rugby, heard his name and thought, goodo, must be Scotland, come on, Scotland. Turned out to be the England-France game. Hmm, must be a member of that famous Cumbrian family, the Speddings from Mirehouse, where Tennyson imagined King Arthur’s Excalibur coming out the lake. Blow me, Scott Spedding turns out to be a Frenchman. Though he only acquired French citizenship last year, having been born and bred in South Africa. What’s in a name, eh?

Footballers are just so last season. Wayne Rooney and Harry Kane can’t score. The really good ones won’t come here – all we get is the crocks, the elderly, the bench-warmers, yet still we look to them to be our saviour. Oh my God, let’s hope we sign Falcao, he’s a genius, will make all the difference, so prayed all the Man United fans. Hold on: Chelsea fans. I’ve forgotten now where he went. They seek him here, they seek him there, is he alive or on the stairs, who feckin’ cares?

John Stones of Everton – brilliant season so far, now he is a genius, the solution to all of Chelsea’s problems, the heir to John Terry, captain of England for decades. Once he gets out of short trousers and learns to tie his own laces . . .

Managers are the real interest. So refreshing to have three young British managers in the Prem – Alex Neil at Norwich (34), Eddie Howe at Bournemouth (37) and that old hand at Swansea, Garry Monk, (36). Young Master Howe looks like a ball boy. Or a tea boy.

Mourinho is, of course, the main attraction. He has given us the best start to any of his seasons on this planet. Can you ever take your eyes off him? That handsome hooded look, that sarcastic sneer, the imperious hand in the air – and in his hair – all those languages, he’s so clearly brilliant, and yet, like many clever people, often lacking in common sense. How could he come down so heavily on Eva Carneiro, his Chelsea doctor? Just because you’re losing? Yes, José has been the best fun so far – plus Chelsea’s poor start. God, please don’t let him fall out with Abramovich. José, we need you.

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 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism