Welby’s war on Wonga

Are the Archbishop of Canterbury’s plans to take on payday lenders heroic or harebrained?

The Archbishop of Canterbury’s remarks about his desire to compete payday lender Wonga “out of existence” by strengthening credit unions in the UK has got people thinking power has gone to his head.

However, Archbishop Welby could be on to something, if the Church gets its execution right. Just look at the success of Islamic banking to see how religion can be a powerful force in banking. The first question is: why would the Church take on a market leader in its own game from a standing start? The second is whether credit unions are a business the Church should be getting into, given that mainstream lenders steer clear of this sector with a bargepole?

The first answer is pretty simple: the Church loves a fight. Think the Crusades, gay marriage or female priests. Although the latter two show that more recently it’s been internal rather than external conflicts. So Archbishop Welby picking a fight with payday lenders, of which Wonga is the best known, is par for the course. Welby said this could be a “decade-long process”, which again isn’t a concern, since the Crusades lasted 200-odd years. A couple of decades is a cakewalk.

So now to the second question, why do it? Backing credit unions is risky, but could pay off, for several reasons, not least the social good it could generate.  There is little doubt that credit unions represent a small slice of the overall retail /commercial banking, although that is changing. According to the most recent unaudited figures by the Association of British Credit Unions, there are 1,025,438 people in the UK using credit unions, including over 123,000 junior savers. Since 2007, the number of members has increased by almost 50 per cent while the number of credit unions has dropped by 23 per cent. The Department of Work & Pensions say up to seven million people use sources of high cost credit e.g. home credit, pay day lenders and pawnbrokers.

So there is a rising market worth £2bn, with a falling number of competitors – both good and bad news. Good because there’s demand, bad because it’s tough to make money.

A second reason is that the Church has a strong brand to leverage off, a loyal customer base (parishioners) and presumably trust in its overall intentions, something badly lacking from many mainstream retail banks. Thirdly, on the surface, its costs/overheads would be relatively low. It already owns the church halls and properties it’ll operate the credit unions out of – a reason why many mainstream banks have cut back branch numbers. It also has a ready supply of cheap labour. According to Welby, there are plans to encourage church members with relevant skills to volunteer at credit unions. It would need to invest in an easy-to-use and quick technology platform to make the most of its countrywide scale.

Now to the downsides. The main reservation about launching such an initiative is the fact that most financial institutions steer clear of the sub-prime sector because there’s significant risk. Mainstream banks don’t go there because these are high risk loans with a danger of not having them paid back. Although Airdrie Savings Bank has launched its own short-term loan, Co-op is an example of a mutual (so not in itself a credit union) that is clearly not working at the moment. Finally, there is the reputational risk. If Church-backed credit unions were caught up in a PPI-style, or sub-prime mortgage, scandal, it would lose the trust of not only its customers, but its parishioners too – the ultimate death knell for The Church.

So why do it? To provide an alternative for those who can’t get credit from traditional lenders, with a social, rather than profit, motive is a noble cause. I wish them good luck, but with the words from a report by Civitas ringing loudly: "To be effective charities, they must first be effective financial institutions."

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Photograph: Getty Images

Nick Moody is the editor - Private Banker International at Progressive Media Group.

 

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Labour's establishment suspects a Momentum conspiracy - they're right

Bernie Sanders-style organisers are determined to rewire the party's machine.  

If you wanted to understand the basic dynamics of this year’s Labour leadership contest, Brighton and Hove District Labour Party is a good microcosm. On Saturday 9 July, a day before Angela Eagle was to announce her leadership bid, hundreds of members flooded into its AGM. Despite the room having a capacity of over 250, the meeting had to be held in three batches, with members forming an orderly queue. The result of the massive turnout was clear in political terms – pro-Corbyn candidates won every position on the local executive committee. 

Many in the room hailed the turnout and the result. But others claimed that some in the crowd had engaged in abuse and harassment.The national party decided that, rather than first investigate individuals, it would suspend Brighton and Hove. Add this to the national ban on local meetings and events during the leadership election, and it is easy to see why Labour seems to have an uneasy relationship with mass politics. To put it a less neutral way, the party machine is in a state of open warfare against Corbyn and his supporters.

Brighton and Hove illustrates how local activists have continued to organise – in an even more innovative and effective way than before. On Thursday 21 July, the week following the CLP’s suspension, the local Momentum group organised a mass meeting. More than 200 people showed up, with the mood defiant and pumped up.  Rather than listen to speeches, the room then became a road test for a new "campaign meetup", a more modestly titled version of the "barnstorms" used by the Bernie Sanders campaign. Activists broke up into small groups to discuss the strategy of the campaign and then even smaller groups to organise action on a very local level. By the end of the night, 20 phonebanking sessions had been planned at a branch level over the following week. 

In the past, organising inside the Labour Party was seen as a slightly cloak and dagger affair. When the Labour Party bureaucracy expelled leftwing activists in past decades, many on went further underground, organising in semi-secrecy. Now, Momentum is doing the exact opposite. 

The emphasis of the Corbyn campaign is on making its strategy, volunteer hubs and events listings as open and accessible as possible. Interactive maps will allow local activists to advertise hundreds of events, and then contact people in their area. When they gather to phonebank in they will be using a custom-built web app which will enable tens of thousands of callers to ring hundreds of thousands of numbers, from wherever they are.

As Momentum has learned to its cost, there is a trade-off between a campaign’s openness and its ability to stage manage events. But in the new politics of the Labour party, in which both the numbers of interested people and the capacity to connect with them directly are increasing exponentially, there is simply no contest. In order to win the next general election, Labour will have to master these tactics on a much bigger scale. The leadership election is the road test. 

Even many moderates seem to accept that the days of simply triangulating towards the centre and getting cozy with the Murdoch press are over. Labour needs to reach people and communities directly with an ambitious digital strategy and an army of self-organising activists. It is this kind of mass politics that delivered a "no" vote in Greece’s referendum on the terms of the Eurozone bailout last summer – defying pretty much the whole of the media, business and political establishment. 

The problem for Corbyn's challenger, Owen Smith, is that many of his backers have an open problem with this type of mass politics. Rather than investigate allegations of abuse, they have supported the suspension of CLPs. Rather than seeing the heightened emotions that come with mass mobilisations as side-effects which needs to be controlled, they have sought to joins unconnected acts of harassment, in order to smear Jeremy Corbyn. The MP Ben Bradshaw has even seemed to accuse Momentum of organising a conspiracy to physically attack Labour MPs.

The real conspiracy is much bigger than that. Hundreds of thousands of people are arriving, enthusiastic and determined, into the Labour party. These people, and their ability to convince the communities of which they are a part, threaten Britain’s political equilibrium, both the Conservatives and the Labour establishment. When the greatest hope for Labour becomes your greatest nightmare, you have good call to feel alarmed.