Modern banking

Over the so-called festive period I was called by an old friend in some anxiety.

He had arranged the disposal of some shares on December 19th as he had substantial outgoings in the New Year. As at December 30th the funds had still not arrived He called his bank for a temporary overdraft to be offered no assistance whatsoever.

My mind went back to my family’s historic relationships. For many years my late father swore by a Mr Copper of the National Westminster Bank whom he followed from branch to branch.  Many years ago I was introduced to such a manager GN.

If I had a problem I would call him up. I would go to his branch and he would  look over his black heavy-rimmed spectacles as if I was something the cat brought in. Then he would say “We will nurse you through.  Do you need a week?”

Eventually Mr Copper was replaced by a Young Turk. One day he pitched up to tell my late father that his overdraft was to be reduced from £30,000 – which he would inscribe into the inside cover of his prayer book – to £14,000 ” in his interests”, to which my father’s accountant interjected “No – in your interests ..”

Modern banking is not about lending money and then being repaid with interest, but apps, closing branches, so-called mangers with no lending discretion and a CEO and board with less vision than Stevie Wonder – and generally being out of touch with loyal customers.

Meanwhile, money saved by streamlining goes into adverts boasting how diverse they are.

Well do I remember when the good shopkeepers of St John’s Wood – all of whom banked with GN wherever he had his branch – ran out of cash and he was seen – bank notes in bag – relieving them – or the Middlesex pace bowler (now a millionaire) who extended himself by purchasing four luxury flats in St. John Wood and, of course, GN nursed him through the early cash flow difficulties.

These guys were “old school” – and fashioned – but understood and helped their customers.

They had personalities too. I once invited GN on a day’s trip to Paris with 3 brothers much younger. I heard one of them say under his breath “Christ!” on being introduced to him but, needless to say, he was the life and soul of a memorable day.

GN passed a few weeks ago but he lived every day of his 92 years and I was one of many offering him a position after he retired from the bank.

As for my friend, I did what any decent friend (or bank) would do.

I transferred two grand to his account, which he did not need as the funds arrived the following day …