We are all aware that we need to evolve with the times and update practices, but many of us cannot help but regret that so many local banks are closing their doors.
n Dublin, Limerick, Laois, Offaly, Cork, Kerry, Mayo, Donegal, Westmeath, Bank of Ireland is closing several premises – a third of Bank of Ireland branches will close.
Nowadays, people do a lot more of their business online and through apps; fewer people visit real banks, and obviously they feel they have to go with the flow. I once worked for a very practical Frenchwoman who only knew three words of English – “business is business” – and that’s quite true. The business is not a charity, it is not a community service; it has to work in a way that makes business sense.
Yet it is, without a doubt, another small blow to the life of the community, of the small and even sometimes the big cities, of the rural life, where the bank was so often at the center of daily activity. Aside from the 2008 crisis, Irish banks were often adept at the people-to-people behind business practices. The bank manager was an important person in a town and in the community, and his signature on a document was a mark of respectability. The bank manager might be in a similar position to the confessional priest: he might be entrusted with many details about your private life that he would keep confidential.
My late brother James worked in the old Hibernian Bank – which eventually merged with the Bank of Ireland – and it amused him to find that in areas near the border Protestant farmers often kept their accounts in the bank. “Catholic,” the Hibernian, while Catholics kept their accounts at the “Protestant” bank, the Ulster Bank. Apparently, some customers thought their deposits would be a better-kept secret if the money was deposited with the âotherâ community. (Not that bank managers would surely never drop hints like âyou’d be surprised how well-off old O’Reilly isâ!)
My brother swore that on a festive occasion the then Protestant Ulster Bank had both a tricolor and a papal flag displayed on the forecourt, to show how friendly they were to customers. If this is true – rather than legendary – it only proves that merchant trade can be one of the best ways to build community relations. But it also shows, even though it dates back to a time of more sectarian divisions, that banks saw themselves as part of a community, appealing to social attitudes and customer sympathies.
Bank managers in small towns were encouraged to join the golf club, to support community activities, to have a sense of responsibility to the community – and that was not a bad thing. Granted, some people who weren’t as wise as they could be in handling money might worry about the bank’s scrutiny of their accounts. Back in the days when checks were currency, the bank noticed how often you could cash a check at your favorite pub (although during a famous bank strike in the 1970s, pubs became the banks, and required checks written on the backs of envelopes, even cigarette packs.)
I will be forever grateful to a helpful and sensible female bank manager, Colette O’Neill at AIB, who sat me down and explained how much interest I was accumulating on credit and store cards. I was poorly educated in money management and, well into my 50s, my attitude to the credit card was childish and even irresponsible: what a kindness Harrods / Brown Thomas to offer me an extension of credit! Phew! More free money! Colette examined these accounts in a forensic fashion and explained, kindly but firmly, how much it cost – which to me was a real banking service.
Banks still advertise their personal loan, loan and mortgage advisory services, and I’m sure they will continue to provide the service, albeit through more modern media. (I understand that banks are making more arrangements with An Post to allow customers to do their banking at post offices – although they have also experienced some very unfortunate closures.)
But if there is one lesson we have learned from the experience of the pandemic, it is that it is so satisfying to be in contact with real human beings again. Zoom was a perfect example: it was great to be able to attend conferences, to be in touch with friends and family via the screen. We will continue to use Zoom for events and meetings. But any ersatz replacement makes you appreciate the authenticity of the real thing – margarine makes you savor butter, downloaded music increases the pleasure of attending a live concert.
And talking to people – even doing business – face to face has just that added value element of humanity. In England, the Halifax Building Society now advertises its services with the slogan: “It’s about seeing a friendly face.” Quite.