Apologies about the rude title, but I couldn’t find another word that fit.
I was opening a business bank account the other month. The process goes as follows:
- Ask friends and coworkers what banks they recommend.
- Make a list of banks, including fees, minimum deposits, locations, and other restrictions.
- (List reviews but give up when every bank has 2 star ratings)
- Go to bank and ask questions to reveal hidden fees; get 20 page Disclosure of Legalese (this is customary at every bank; if you don’t get one, it’s still there)
- Pretend to read, sign 15 forms; ask for copy of form you signed and get a “we don’t usually give out that form”
- Get any forms of ID/checks/missing that you didn’t know you needed the first time; acquire debit card/checkbook
After this process, two interesting and opposite observations emerge: 1) Our protagonist is clearly more pedantic than most mere mortals, and 2) Despite all the efforts of due diligence on his part, does anyone really doubt he’ll be hit with some sort of fee at some point?
US banks belong to a special class of institutions, shared with mobile carriers, cable companies and used car salesmen. What’s interesting about these places is not the degree of hatred they inspire (bad bosses and politicians on the other side–substituting your personal other–are also), but rather the kind. A proper analogy might be a well-kept house with bad flooring. Someone unsuspecting might choose to play foursquare in the living room, but those in the know shake their heads at these youngsters and test every step they make.
The true cost society pays for this isn’t just fixing the floors, but rather being unable to run. Patching up the single parent who gets hit with an overdraft, or being forced to call the cable company every 12 months to get the same rates we started out with is bad enough; learning to mistrust the institutions we work with every day is another thing entirely.
A lot of advice on picking a bank says “it’s not the bank, it’s the banker.” Now, the real reason to do this is likely to make it easier to get a line of credit, not avoid dickish fees; but this line of thinking – the mantra of “find a person, because the process itself isn’t good enough” – reminded me of another, more soviet set of institutions. I think it would be unreasonable to say hidden fees are like a Gulag; I’m not making that comparison. However, every time someone needs to double check their form filling out of paranoia, or review yet another contract with a magnifying glass, under the expectation of mistrust, that brings us closer to countries and bureaucracies where the process is really and truly broken, countries that we generally call corrupt.
As a more positive example, imagine the process we go through to buy books at a bookstore. Whole regions of our minds dedicated to things like “will this book poison me?” and “do I give up my right to sue when I buy this book?” and “will I pay a special extra fee if I try to read this book in a roaming area?” just…don’t exist. Whole sections of cortex are liberated to think about things like characters and plot. It’s enough to bring out an involuntary grin.
If dickish institutions were designed in such a way that it was transparently clear what we were getting, even if it was expensive, that would be more than a good deal for society – would it perhaps be a relief?
