Letter to the Bank #71 (The Bouncy Banker meets Inspector Clouseau)

Dear Bank Manager,

Oh the weight of the load you carry. I know your job involves so much more than this but would you say the following is a fair description of what your responsibilities are vis-a-vis the customer?

“The bank manager is responsible for increasing or maintaining the deposits on hand at the bank. This may mean developing incentive programs to increase the customers that use the bank or developing programs that encourage the savings of existing customers. Bank managers work closely with the bank president and marketing team in developing these programs. The bank manager may also work on increasing other aspects of the bank's business such as the loan department, the investment consultants, or even the mortgage and finance divisions of the bank.”

I pulled this job description off the web and I accept that it may not do you justice. From this description I get no sense that your customer is regarded as any more than a cash machine. There is no emphasis on making your client’s funds grow or helping them manage the octuple draws on their meagre savings. Rather the emphasis is on getting as many poor saps to give up their money so you can invest it for your bank’s own benefit. No wonder we regard that extended hand and gold tooth smile reservedly.

Now most artists are probably smart enough to avoid biting the hand that feeds them but I seem to have somehow developed the habit of doing quite the opposite. Picture that cartoon of Inspector Clouseau at the beginning of the Pink Panther movies. I see Clouseau holding with both hands the large wrist of a poor, unsuspecting central banker, cufflinks gleaming, a massive gold band on the ring finger, and nibbling at it like a corn cob—though corn on the cob is not something the French relish. In France they feed corn to the pigs. Huh. I see Clouseau being severely reprimanded by his boss, the ever compromised Dreyfuss who always is stuck playing both ends against the middle, himself.

When I was growing up there was a toy called the Weeble. “Weebles wobble but they won’t fall down!” That is you! You may wobble, you may even crash, flop, flounder for a while but in the end you’ll always bounce back. You’ll get up, brush yourself off, buy a new suit if you must. You’ll lose everything on paper but it is only paper and miraculously it’ll all come back restored by an uptick in optimism contrived by lobbyists, corporations and politicians. They hold a gun to the temple of that pessimistic economist who now turns round and declares a run on diapers as a sure sign that consumer confidence is up. The Government, also feeling pessimistic but oh so dependent on the banks that so brilliantly create wealth if given enough rope, gives them rope. With a gentle slap on the wrist, that immortal wrist that clutches that never ending purse, the government says (between pursed lips): “next time we let you fail”. Both the government and the banks know full well that’ll never happen. They stay afloat together or go down together albeit long after the rest of us have already sunk down in oceans of debt never to be repaid. Given the inevitability of this I feel compelled to repeat my brilliant but utterly ignored although to me compelling idea we should erase ALL debt. Imagine the worldwide sigh of relief! Everyone would suddenly be presented with the chance to start over from scratch. Optimism, that foundation stone of a functioning market would be restored, and if that in turn were built on a real bedrock of regulation perhaps we could all start over on the right foot, or the left.
 One day you’ll thank me for being so upfront and straight with you. I make no bones about the fact that I find your operations quite sleazy. I find them dubious to say the least. I mistrust your institutions. There. Note: I am not being rude to you—here there will be no name calling, no killing the messenger. If I am rude in any way it is a polite rude. That is my specialty! That said if corporations are people as both the Supreme Court and Mitt Romney would like us to believe then I guess what I say is offensive. Tough. I’ll refer to bricks and mortar, and the wads of paper, the signage that declare you are now facing or confronted with a corporation, any way I wish. Honestly if I can find chinks in the armor, and hurt the feelings of a corporation, I’d be thrilled! But I digress. Why would I bother writing this unless I held out some hope you might listen to me? That is trust. I’m trusting you’ll engage with me despite my niggling notes. I trust you’ll see beyond my school boyish way with a metaphorical handheld catapult. Instead of swatting me away as I kick furiously at the shins of the massive redwood tree that is you, I hope you’ll bend down and hold out your hand extending the flat of your palm toward me. I’ll sit next to the throbbing blue ulnar artery of your fine institution and we’ll finally hash a few of these things out—together.

Gosh this was a long one. I get so caught up in the language, the metaphors, similes and idioms. I SO need the discipline a writing workshop, or the limitations of Twitter might provide. Until I get going on those fronts bare with me.

Sincerely,


Kristian Witherkay