At the G8, Switzerland is the elephant in the room

"The era of bank secrecy is over." Maybe.

Another day, another plea. This time the European Union official in charge of tax policy, Commissioner Algirdas Semeta, has tried to persuade Switzerland to agree to surrender bank data as part of a drive to combat tax evasion.

Semeta’s request echoes several others that Switzerland has received in the past year to sign up for bank data transparency deals.

Countries particularly within the EU are continuously facing a push to sign up for bank data sharing agreements to assist a clamp down on tax debtors, and allow countries to conduct wide-ranging joint multiparty tax investigations. Globally, more than 50 countries have, so far, agreed to automatically exchange tax information.

Prime Minister David Cameron got ten overseas territories and dependencies to sign up for the international protocol on tax disclosure over the weekend – after much ado – and hailed the "landmark" Lough Erne agreement yesterday at the G8 Summit to rewrite global rules to stamp out tax evasion.

Europe’s big five – UK, France, Germany, Italy and Spain – started piloting the multilateral tax information exchange in April 2013, based on a Model Intergovernmental Agreement to improve international tax compliance and implement FATCA developed between these countries and the US. Austria is expected to join soon as well.

However, the elephant in the room is Switzerland – and its non-commitment to any of these agreements. It is also clear that the support of several other countries is dependent on deals Switzerland strikes.

For instance, Luxembourg’s Prime Minister, Jean-Claude Juncker, said the country would prefer there to first be negotiations with Switzerland, and Luxembourg will decide on its actions accordingly.

Being a $2trn offshore tax haven, Switzerland has a long tradition of bank secrecy that has made it the world's biggest offshore centre.

There is of course a thin line between privacy and secrecy. It’s not wrong to have offshore accounts. Switzerland is, perhaps, taking its sweet time only because it’s protective about its banks and clients.

However, Swiss Finance Minister Eveline Widmer-Schlumpf said, at the G8 summit on Monday, the Swiss government would probably "only be able to start formal talks with the EU" in the autumn, and would push for global standards on data exchange at the OECD.

Widmer-Schlumpf added that for Switzerland, it is important to engage itself "for a level playing field, not just within the EU but beyond the EU".

The "beyond EU" part is absolutely crucial for Switzerland too.

It’s no secret that Switzerland is under tremendous pressure from the US for bank data as well, what with its oldest private bank, Wegelin& Co pleading guilty to charges of helping wealthy Americans evade taxes through secret accounts earlier in the year, and paying $58 m in fines to US authorities.

Back in 2009, Swiss banking giant UBS was fined $780m and forced to deliver names of more than 4,000 clients to avoid indictment.

On last count, 14 Swiss banks were in US investigators' sights for aiding Americans evade taxes.UBS and Credit Suisse were even named in a wide-spread investigation by The International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) into offshore tax evasion.

Not that Switzerland is not paying heed. The Swiss government agreed to create a legal basis to enable its banks to settle investigations by US authorities, which could require lenders to pay up to billions of dollars in fines.

But as of yesterday morning, the lower house of parliament stalled the "Lex USA" bid, refusing to address a bill that allows banks to sidestep strict Swiss secrecy laws, even though the upper house of parliament had voted in favour of it, posing another roadblock in the settlement of the long running US-Swiss tax dispute.

Switzerland is clearly the joker in the pack and its movements can either make way for a complete data transparency code among countries, or block it. And it’s moving cautiously.

Semeta said at the G8 meeting on Monday, "It is widely accepted worldwide today that the era of bank secrecy is over." Most will believe it when Switzerland accepts it.

Photograph: Getty Images

Meghna Mukerjee is a reporter at Retail Banker International

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Why is it called Storm Doris? The psychological impact of naming a storm

“Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person.”

“Oh, piss off Doris,” cried the nation in unison this morning. No, it wasn't that everyone's local cantankerous old lady had thwacked our ankles with her stick. This is a different, more aggressive Doris. Less Werther’s, more extreme weathers. Less bridge club, more bridge collapse.

This is Storm Doris.

A storm that has brought snow, rain, and furious winds up to 94mph to parts of the UK. There are severe weather warnings of wind, snow and ice across the entire country.

But the real question here is: why is it called that? And what impact does the new Met Office policy of naming storms have on us?

Why do we name storms?

Storm Doris is the latest protagonist in the Met Office’s decision to name storms, a pilot scheme introduced in winter 2015/16 now in its second year.

The scheme was introduced to draw attention to severe weather conditions in Britain, and raise awareness of how to prepare for them.

How do we name storms?

The Name our Storms initiative invites the public to suggest names for storms. You can do this by tweeting the @metoffice using the #nameourstorms hashtag and your suggestion, through its Facebook page, or by emailing them.

These names are collated along with suggestions from Met Éireann and compiled into a list. These are whittled down into 21 names, according to which were most suggested – in alphabetical order and alternating between male and female names. This is done according to the US National Hurricane Naming convention, which excludes the letters Q, U, X, Y and Z because there are thought to be too few common names beginning with these letters.

They have to be human names, which is why suggestions in this list revealed by Wired – including Apocalypse, Gnasher, Megatron, In A Teacup (or Ena Tee Cup) – were rejected. The Met Office received 10,000 submissions for the 2016/17 season. According to a spokesperson, a lot of people submit their own names.

Only storms that could have a “medium” or “high” wind impact in the UK and Ireland are named. If there are more than 21 storms in a year, then the naming system starts from Alpha and goes through the Greek alphabet.

The names for this year are: Angus (19-20 Nov ’16), Barbara (23-24 Dec 2016), Conor (25-26 Dec 2016), Doris (now), Ewan, Fleur, Gabriel, Holly, Ivor, Jacqui, Kamil, Louise, Malcolm, Natalie, Oisín, Penelope, Robert, Susan, Thomas, Valerie and Wilbert.

Why does this violent storm have the name of an elderly lady?

Doris is an incongruous name for this storm, so why was it chosen? A Met Office spokesperson says they were just at that stage in their list of names, and there’s no link between the nature of the storm and its name.

But do people send cosy names for violent weather conditions on purpose? “There’s all sorts in there,” a spokesperson tells me. “People don’t try and use cosy names as such.”

What psychological impact does naming storms have on us?

We know that giving names to objects and animals immediately gives us a human connection with them. That’s why we name things we feel close to: a pet owner names their cat, a sailor names their boat, a bore names their car. We even name our virtual assistants –from Microsoft’s Clippy to Amazon’s Alexa.

This gives us a connection beyond practicality with the thing we’ve named.

Remember the response of Walter Palmer, the guy who killed Cecil the Lion? “If I had known this lion had a name and was important to the country or a study, obviously I wouldn’t have taken it,” he said. “Nobody in our hunting party knew before or after the name of this lion.”

So how does giving a storm a name change our attitude towards it?

Evidence suggests that we take it more seriously – or at least pay closer attention. A YouGov survey following the first seven named storms in the Met Office’s scheme shows that 55 per cent of the people polled took measures to prepare for wild weather after hearing that the oncoming storm had been named.

“There was an immediate acceptance of the storm names through all media,” said Gerald Fleming, Head of Forecasting at Met Éireann, the Irish metereological service. “The severe weather messages were more clearly communicated.”

But personalising a storm can backfire. A controversial US study in 2014 by PNAC (Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences) claimed that hurricanes with female names lead to higher death tolls – the more “feminine” the name, like Belle or Cindy, the higher the death toll. This is not because female names are attached to more severe storms; it is reportedly because people take fewer steps to prepare for storms with names they perceive to be unintimidating or weak.

“In judging the intensity of a storm, people appear to be applying their beliefs about how men and women behave,” Sharon Shavitt, a co-author of the study, told the FT at the time. “This makes a female-named hurricane . . . seem gentler and less violent.”

Names have social connotations, and affect our subconscious. Naming a storm can raise awareness of it, but it can also affect our behaviour towards it.

What’s it like sharing a name with a deadly storm?

We should also spare a thought for the impact sharing a name with a notorious weather event can have on a person. Katrina Nicholson, a nurse who lives in Glasgow, says it was “horrible” when the 2005 hurricane – one of the fifth deadliest ever in the US – was given her name.

“It was horrible having something so destructive associated with my name. Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person,” she tells me over email. “I actually remember at the time meeting an American tourist on a boat trip in Skye and when he heard my name he immediately linked it to the storm – although he quickly felt guilty and then said it was a lovely name! I think to this day there will be many Americans who hate my name because of it.”

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.