Can credit scores make payday lending ethical?

Payday lenders need to work harder to not target vulnerable borrowers.

A new report (pdf) by Damon Gibbons, published in partnership by Friends Provident and the Centre for Responsible Credit, looks at the benefits of credit data sharing and raises another possible solution to the problem of irresponsible lenders targeting the financially vulnerable.

It might be a surprise that credit scoring is not standard procedure for high-cost lenders on the high street and online. But most of us are familiar with payday lenders' adverts promising easy cash with no credit checks. The speed with which hard-up borrowers can obtain very expensive loans does have consequences, and making data sharing a priority would start to set this problem straight.

What does credit scoring and data sharing involve?

Credit scoring, simply put, is the system financial institutions have in place to check whether a person is said to be creditworthy before assessing a loan application. The system, regulated by the Financial Services Authority, works on a points system and is often shared with credit reference agencies. If a person's points score is deemed high enough then their loan application will generally be accepted; otherwise, that loan application can be denied.

How it can benefit responsible lending?

The Office for Fair Trading's guidance to lenders on responsible lending states that a creditor must consider whether a credit commitment will adversely impact upon an individual's financial situation. Ideally, credit scoring and data sharing can help lenders adhere to those guidelines. They will finally have a database to look at which will give them some indication of whether a loan of a particular amount, say, will be beneficial to them or impact negatively on their financial situation.

What bad behaviour it can stop?

At the moment there is no law stopping a payday lender from lending large sums of money, at expensive rates of interest, to low income consumers. There is only guidance to do this, and we know that this is not always adhered to. While we know payday lenders profit from repeat customers, and that only between 50 and 60 per cent of loans from payday lenders are notified with credit reference agencies, even some in the industry say that moving to a culture of data sharing would ensure that the risks attached to lending money are reduced, as well as some of the front end costs.

What are the risks?

The big risk is that credit scores could make it more difficult for a person to obtain credit.

The government, on this, have said that while they appreciate the need for credit scoring, they do take into consideration the “unintended consequences”, such as to those with no, or "thin", credit rating struggling to get loans.

However in addition to better quality lending decisions, it would be worthwhile for mainstream credit providers to be less needlessly risk averse when considering overdraft and credit applications to low income customers who may otherwise rely on a high cost payday lender, where the average loan can cost around £30 per £100 borrowed.

What policy makers should do

Two things: set criteria for what is meant by responsible lending, such as setting a minimum level of disposable income a borrower is left with after taking on a loan; and oblige lenders to refer high risk customers to credit unions, where they can receive budget management advice and borrow money at far cheaper prices.

Furthermore, payday lenders should be obliged to implement a system of five roll-over loans per customer. Credit checks will provide the data for customers who reach this point.

Credit scoring and data sharing, implemented properly, can be the lifeline borrowers need at a time when personal debt is growing and the payday lending sector is seeing its profits soar.

Photograph: Getty Images

Carl Packman is a writer, researcher and blogger. He is the author of the forthcoming book Loan Sharks to be released by Searching Finance. He has previously published in the Guardian, Tribune Magazine, The Philosopher's Magazine and the International Journal for Žižek Studies.
 

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Britain has built a national myth on winning the Second World War, but it’s distorting our politics

The impending humiliation of Brexit is going to have a lot more in common with Suez.

The Crown, Peter Morgan’s epic drama covering the reign of Elizabeth II, ended its first series with a nemesis waiting just off-stage to shake up its court politics. In the final episode, Egyptian president Gamal Nasser gives a rip-roaringly anti-imperialist – and anti-British – speech. The scene is set for the Suez Crisis to be a big plot point in Season 2.

Suez has gone down in history as the great foreign policy debacle of postwar Britain. The 1956 crisis – which saw Israel, France and Britain jointly invade Egypt to take control of the Suez Canal, only to slink off again, nine days later, once it became clear the US wasn’t having any of it – is seen as the point at which it became clear that even the bigger states of Europe were no longer great powers in the world. “President Eisenhower’s humiliation of Britain,” Jack Straw wrote in his 2012 memoir, “had been total.”

This was, though, a fairly limited sort of humiliation. Britain was not invaded or occupied; there was no sudden collapse in living standards, let alone a significant body count. Our greatest national debacle is nothing more than the realisation that Britain could no longer do whatever it wanted without fear of reprisal. As humiliations go, this one’s up there with the loss of status men have faced from the rise of feminism: suddenly, Britain could do what it wanted a mere 80 per cent of the time.

The Crown begins in 1947, when Prince Philip gives up his Greek and Danish royal titles and becomes a British subject, so that he can marry Princess Elizabeth. That year saw another British foreign policy debacle, one on which the show remains oddly silent. In the partition which followed India’s independence from the British Empire, 70 years ago this week, upwards of a million people died; in the decades since, the borders drawn up at that time have been the site of numerous wars, and Kashmir remains a flashpoint.

All this, one might think, might count as a far bigger regret than Suez – yet it doesn’t feature in the national narrative in the same way. Perhaps because partition was about the withdrawal of British forces, rather than their deployment; perhaps it’s simply that it all happened a very long way away. Or perhaps we just care less about a body count than we do about looking bad in front of the Americans.

I think, though, there’s another reason we don’t talk about this stuff: the end of empire is hidden behind a much bigger part of our national myth. In the Second World War, Britain is undeniably one of the good guys; for 12 months, indeed, Britain was the only good guy. Never mind that it still had the largest empire the world had ever seen to fall back on: Britain stood alone.

The centrality of the Second World War to the national myth warps our view of history and our place in the world in all sorts of ways. For starters, it means we’ve never had to take an honest account of the consequences of empire. In a tale about British heroes defeating Nazi villains, British mistakes or British atrocities just don’t fit. (Winston Churchill’s role in the 1943 Bengal famine – death toll: three million – by ordering the export of Indian grain to Britain rarely comes up in biopics.) In this dominant version of the national story, the end of empire is just the price we pay to defeat fascism.

More than that, our obsession with the Second World War creates the bizarre impression that failure is not just heroic, but a necessary precursor to success. Two of the most discussed elements of Britain’s war – the evacuation of Dunkirk, and the Blitz – are not about victory at all, but about survival against the odds. The lesson we take is that, with a touch of British grit and an ability to improvise, we can accomplish anything. It’s hard not to see this reflected in Brexit secretary David Davis’s lack of notes, but it’s nonsense: had the Russians and Americans not arrived to bail us out, Britain would have been stuffed.

Most obviously, being one of the winners of the Second World War infects our attitude to Europe. It’s probably not a coincidence that Britain has always been both one of the most eurosceptic EU countries, and one of the tiny number not to have been trampled by a foreign army at some point in recent history: we don’t instinctively grasp why European unity matters.

Once again, Suez is instructive. The lesson postwar France took from the discovery that the imperial age was over was that it should lead a strong and unified Europe. The lesson Britain took was that, so long as we cosied up to the US – Athens to their Rome, to quote Harold Macmillan – we could still bask in reflected superpower.

Until recently, Britain’s Second World War obsession and national ignorance about empire didn’t really seem to affect contemporary politics. They were embarrassing; but they were also irrelevant, so we could cope. Brexit, though, means that hubris is about to run headlong into nemesis, and the widespread assumption that Britain is a rich, powerful and much-loved country is unlikely to survive contact with reality. India will not offer a trade deal for sentimental reasons; Ireland is not a junior partner that will meekly follow us out of the door or police its borders on our behalf. The discovery that Britain is now a mid-ranking power that – excepting the over-heated south-east of England – isn’t even that rich is likely to mean a loss of status to rival Suez.

Morgan says he has planned six seasons of The Crown. (This looks entertainingly like a bet the Queen will be dead by 2021; if not, like Game of Thrones before it, he might well run out of text to adapt.) It’ll be interesting to see how the show handles Brexit. It began with the royal family facing up to a vertiginous decline in British power. As things stand, it may have to end the same way. 

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Brexit. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear