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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If there’s no booze or naked women, what’s the point of being a footballer?

Peter Crouch came out with one of the wittiest football lines. When asked what he thought he would have been but for football, he replied: “A virgin.”

At a professional league ground near you, the following conversation will be taking place. After an excellent morning training session, in which the players all worked hard, and didn’t wind up the assistant coach they all hate, or cut the crotch out of the new trousers belonging to the reserve goalie, the captain or some senior player will go into the manager’s office.

“Hi, gaffer. Just thought I’d let you know that we’ve booked the Salvation Hall. They’ll leave the table-tennis tables in place, so we’ll probably have a few games, as it’s the players’ Christmas party, OK?”

“FECKING CHRISTMAS PARTY!? I TOLD YOU NO CHRISTMAS PARTIES THIS YEAR. NOT AFTER LAST YEAR. GERROUT . . .”

So the captain has to cancel the booking – which was actually at the Salvation Go Go Gentlemen’s Club on the high street, plus the Saucy Sporty Strippers, who specialise in naked table tennis.

One of the attractions for youths, when they dream of being a footballer or a pop star, is not just imagining themselves number one in the Prem or number one in the hit parade, but all the girls who’ll be clambering for them. Young, thrusting politicians have similar fantasies. Alas, it doesn’t always work out.

Today, we have all these foreign managers and foreign players coming here, not pinching our women (they’re too busy for that), but bringing foreign customs about diet and drink and no sex at half-time. Rotters, ruining the simple pleasures of our brave British lads which they’ve enjoyed for over a century.

The tabloids recently went all pious when poor old Wayne Rooney was seen standing around drinking till the early hours at the England team hotel after their win over Scotland. He’d apparently been invited to a wedding that happened to be going on there. What I can’t understand is: why join a wedding party for total strangers? Nothing more boring than someone else’s wedding. Why didn’t he stay in the bar and get smashed?

Even odder was the behaviour of two other England stars, Adam Lallana and Jordan Henderson. They made a 220-mile round trip from their hotel in Hertfordshire to visit a strip club, For Your Eyes Only, in Bournemouth. Bournemouth! Don’t they have naked women in Herts? I thought one of the points of having all these millions – and a vast office staff employed by your agent – is that anything you want gets fixed for you. Why couldn’t dancing girls have been shuttled into another hotel down the road? Or even to the lads’ own hotel, dressed as French maids?

In the years when I travelled with the Spurs team, it was quite common in provincial towns, after a Saturday game, for players to pick up girls at a local club and share them out.

Like top pop stars, top clubs have fixers who can sort out most problems, and pleasures, as well as smart solicitors and willing police superintendents to clear up the mess afterwards.

The England players had a night off, so they weren’t breaking any rules, even though they were going to play Spain 48 hours later. It sounds like off-the-cuff, spontaneous, home-made fun. In Wayne’s case, he probably thought he was doing good, being approachable, as England captain.

Quite why the other two went to Bournemouth was eventually revealed by one of the tabloids. It is Lallana’s home town. He obviously said to Jordan Henderson, “Hey Hendo, I know a cool club. They always look after me. Quick, jump into my Bentley . . .”

They spent only two hours at the club. Henderson drank water. Lallana had a beer. Don’t call that much of a night out.

In the days of Jimmy Greaves, Tony Adams, Roy Keane, or Gazza in his pomp, they’d have been paralytic. It was common for players to arrive for training still drunk, not having been to bed.

Peter Crouch, the former England player, 6ft 7in, now on the fringes at Stoke, came out with one of the wittiest football lines. When asked what he thought he would have been but for football, he replied: “A virgin.”

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 01 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Age of outrage