This is a long-winded way of saying that the taxpayer is absolutely sick of the banks, writes ANN MARIE HOURIHANE.
NOW THAT we have a Bank Holiday I think we should have a bank holiday. That is, a holiday from the banks. First of all it would be nice for all of us to have a little break from all those windowed envelopes with the scary computer typing. Secondly, it would be nice for small businesses to have a few days in which they can fantasise that their banks are prepared to give them credit, and actually care what happens to them. And thirdly, because we blooming need one.
It has been a weekend of surprises, but not even Leinster pulverising Munster could be more surprising than reports yesterday that Anglo Irish Bank needs another €2.5 billion from the taxpayer.
And this in the week in which we had learned that another bank chief executive, this time from AIB, was stepping down. That brings the score of vacant chief executive positions in our six leading financial institutions to four. Ah, lads, lads, lads. Yet this latest request brings the sport to a whole new level.
There are quite a lot of us who know nothing about rugby, but are prepared to join in the shouting – if in doubt, shout “knock on!” – and to attempt to look knowledgeable at vital moments. Sexton coming on to the pitch to take the kick. The silence.
O’Driscoll’s long run to take that try. What moments. You didn’t need to know much about rugby to be shouting with joy. And actually the people who do know about rugby – Lunsters to a man – had to spend half-time in silent contemplation, walking round the garden, they were that upset. It has been quite a tense 48 hours.
As it is with we rugby bluffers, so it is with banking. It turns out that our bankers never actually knew anything about money. They were not players at all, but the most ignorant type of supporter. They were simply cheerleaders who shouted “soft landing” during the lamest ruck. And now they cannot survive without billions of our money, whilst being morally opposed to nationalisation. That’s the beauty of the game.
The taxpayer doesn’t know much about nationalising the banks but we know this much: it means that the banks would be run by our Government. That is, the same administration that has brought us to bankruptcy, and consequently – call us old-fashioned if you must – we are a little reluctant about the idea. That is why we sit in front of our television screens, as passionate economists recommend nationalising the banks, and say intelligent things such as: “Do you think he has one ear much bigger than the other?” It seems that Anglo Irish Bank has only discovered recently, while flicking through its loan book, that its debts are substantially greater than it had previously supposed. In the dim brain of the taxpayer a little green light flickers. We have heard something like this before. And not just from the other banks. Now where did we hear something like this before? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me. Oh yes, it was when the Department of Finance said that the tax receipts were substantially below its expectations.
Meanwhile, people who really understand economics are quiet and white-faced and spending their time in silent contemplation, walking round the garden, they are that upset.
It’s tough being a taxpayer; and, you might add, it’s getting tougher all the time.
We voted Fianna Fáil in, not because we trusted them, but because we thought that they were the type of boyos who knew about money. It is safe to say Fianna Fáil believed that themselves. And you cannot blame Fianna Fáil for being convinced of their own capability in financial matters, when you look at the bankers they were talking to at the time.
Meanwhile, the poor taxpayers, if we ever got up the nerve to ask a pertinent question, were knocked to the ground by confident bankers, who gouged our eyes and told us that we knew nothing about financial matters. It was bluff and double bluff.
In fact it was quite analogous to poker. Except that in poker, as far as I am aware, no single source of money is asked to pay the debts of every single player at the table.
This is a long-winded way of saying that the taxpayer is absolutely sick of the banks. Sick of listening to them, sick of reading about them, sick of seeing their executives waddling out of the stadium with multi-million euro pensions, unrepentant to the last.
That is why we need a holiday from the banks. Six months seems like a nice round figure. Six months in which we don’t hear their whingeing, their self-justification or their lectures. Six months in which we don’t have to read about how the global downturn struck them as a terrible shock. Six months of peace and quiet, in which someone else comes in to run the banks, on the understanding that they will report at the end of that period to let us know how they’ve got on.
If you are asking who these replacements might be the answer is quite simple – the bookies.
Bookies know the game.