two cheers for bankers

It's all the bankers fault. Wherever you look, it's blatantly obvious. The housing bubble has burst and Iceland collapsed, the recession is suffocating bewildered citizens, and the lousy weather makes everyone grumpy. Good thing that there's a an easy scapegoat, someone somewhat abstract to put the blame on. The bankers are at the root of it all.

That's what the radio and the newspapers don't tire of telling, and even the Economist contributes a verse to this popular tune. In more ways than one, the blame is entirely justified. Institutionalized greed facilitated millionfold individual greed that ballooned the financial system out of all proportions. Now that the whole thing has exploded in a spectacular mess, cerebration is essential and change will need to be effected. But if that task is approached with the same kind of closed-minded persistence that caused the disaster, the result is not going to be any prettier. Thus, for the sake of balance and reflection, here two recent encounters I had with the much maligned species of banker.

I have been with the University of Utah Credit Union since I arrived in Salt Lake City for my Ph.D. in the summer of 1998. I had no understanding of the differences between banks and credit unions. All I knew is that I needed a bank account. The Credit Union had two branches on campus and got me started within ten minutes, with no monthly fees. This deal still holds. What changes from time to time is the ATM card, which has a finite lifetime.

My current card's expiration date was last June. I don't want to withdraw any money or use the card for purchases, so I never worried. But the other day I booked a trip to Canada with a possible detour into New York State, and I got to thinking... I called the Credit Union to see if they'd be willing to send me a new card. The rep kindly suggested I come pick one up in a branch. "It won't take more than five minutes, sir", she said, proudly. I insisted on mailing. Her pride turned to incredulity: "But it's a Salt Lake address."

I didn't feel like explaining my situation in too much detail; I'm always afraid the line will be drawn at some point and my physical presence in the country required for the continued activity of my bank account. I managed to convince her to send the card and will even, as an additional and priceless benefit, get a new PIN number. I had long forgotten the old. Now I just need to replenish my account with some fresh cash and there won't be anything in the way of my summer vacation. Is there still anything of this stimulus package money left? How do I access that?

To those who argue that credit unions are technically not banks and that their friendliness, competence and flexibility just goes to show how rotten the banking system is, I reply that they do banking, and that's what this post is about. But to make the point for nuance more forcefully, here's a story from J.P. Morgan Chase, the Wall Street giant that provides me with my credit card.

It started many years ago. I got a United card and collected miles assiduously. When I left the U.S. it became increasingly difficult to justify an annual charge for a card I hardly used. After ordering copies of my dissertation, in what I thought would be my last transaction, I called Chase to close the account. The person on the other end of the line was incredibly friendly and helpful and suggested I downgrade from Gold and get the free Classic card instead. He wasn't bothered in the least that I lived in the country of cheese-eating surrender monkeys by that time. I honestly got the feeling that he wanted me to have a free credit card. Who am I to say no?

But just like ATM cards, credit cards expired eventually. Mine has just about two more months embossed on its scratched surface. A few days ago I changed the address associated with the account to one that is still connected with me, and today I called to see that everything was going ok. It wasn't exactly. My new card had already been sent out to the old address and returned as undeliverable. After getting the right answers to a few curious security questions, the fellow answering to my problem was satisfied that I was I and promised to send the card again. And I am still waiting for my first bad banker experience in the U.S.