Banks and Government Making Dishonesty Right

When people do something wrong – commit a crime, abuse a confidence, default on an agreement – they know they’re doing wrong. There is a higher intelligence in us all, an intelligence or knowing about basic rights and wrongs.

We know murder is wrong yet people commit it. We know fraud is wrong but people do it. We know these things yet people do them – against their higher knowing – all the time. And I wonder how …

Perhaps there’s a switch at the back of our brains that immobilises that higher knowing. Perhaps we make up some perfectly logical but insane story that it’s okay to scar the world in some way. I’m not sure how it works but there has to be some twisted way in which our minds make the grossly wrong to be perfectly right.

It’s like the Australian chap from The Secret who had defrauded people of hundreds of thousands of dollars and he has neither sympathy for those defrauded nor contrition for his acts. Somehow, in his mind, he has made it okay to take those peoples’ money under false pretences.

Two more examples of this, closer to my world, occurred this week.

For a foreign student to study at private university in England, they must have a student visa from the Immigration Department (ID).  These visas carry certain conditions – having at least £600 in their bank account every day they’re here, passing exams, class attendance and not working more than 20 hours a week. So, the ID and the student agree on the conditions, in writing, and both parties sign on the dotted line. Then, the ID realised it had erred and has now decided the students are not allowed to work. So, part-way through the contract – even though the students are diligently fulfilling their part of the agreement – the ID changes the rules, making it impossible for thousands of students to continue studying and they must return to their homelands.

One student had the £600 in her bank account every single day but one – the bank had taken the money from her account by mistake and had returned it the next day. Despite having an apology letter from the bank, admitting their mistake, the ID sent the student back to India, part-way through her studies.

We all know that reneging on an agreement, as the ID is doing with thousands of students, is wrong. So, is there something in the minds of the ID employees that makes this dishonesty okay for them? I don’t know how they do this, how they can live with their deceit, but they do.

Like the Australian, they seem to be having a conversation with themselves that sounds like, “Oh dear, I’ve stuffed up. That’s okay, I’ll make the vulnerable pay and all will be well.”

Then, mentioning banks, we recently received an overdraft fee from our bank, despite the fact that we had agreed to an overdraft facility with no fees. They tried to justify it by saying that we had been notified of the new charge (which we weren’t) but I pointed out (I had to do this several times) that we had a signed contract and if they wanted to change it, they needed our agreement, in writing. Eventually, the illegality of their action dawned on them and they became embarrassed and apologetic, to the extent of offering to reimburse me for the inconvenience of my trip to the bank. I suggested a bottle of wine and I look forward to a good New Zealand red in the mail soon.

The individual at the bank got it that her bank had tried to defraud us but those higher up the organisation haven’t got it – somewhere in their minds they’ve flicked a switch that makes it okay to go back on signed contracts. Likewise, the minds of the many thousands of meek and compliant customers of Lloyds bank have been similarly switched to illegal is okay mode. This compliance helps to conform to the Lloyd’s executives the rightness of their actions, I suppose.

I don’t know where these illegal is okay switches are so, if you find one, please tell me about it. I’m … aargh! As I’m writing this the courier arrived with a gift-wrapped box of wine and a card that says … wait for it … Sorry. Yes, the Lloyds bank has apologised for its error. I’m flabbergasted and impressed. I am now lost for words, which is a rare thing!

P.S. The two bottles of wines are French, not New Zealand, but that’s OK!

And now we'll return to the story of Arthur Bayly and Mary Collins in The Olympic Challenge, continued from the previous blog ...

“Ah, well, we’s got experience of getting’ stuff, you know,” said Hemi, looking sheepish. “Yeah, did a bit of time for it, of course, but got away with a lot of it. Anyway, they put us on a plane with maps and stuff of where it probably was and who might’a had it and we got here. Cor, big bloody plane, huh! Trouble was, me mate, Eru … well, silly bugger thought he’d make a bit of money on the side selling his weed – Māori j’wanna we call it! Yeah, marijuana. Well, I shoulda’ known he’d do something stupid but I’s just so excited about a trip to Ngati Wikitoria, Queen Victoria’s tribe, and to use my skills to honour my people. Anyway, he got caught. I managed to nick his stash off him before he got arrested and mighta’ saved him a few years in clink. So I’s on my own ‘cept for this lanky blonde fella’ I got talking to in the plane – yeah, the one out there now – and he seemed to know lot’a stuff and said the taonga was in this lord’s house so we … well he took me there and I got in and found nuttin’. Then he said there’s this insurance expert, aah, Mr Bayly, who knew where it was and then I’s told the boss of this insurance company, this, aah, Mr Lord … bloody lords everywhere an’ I got confused. Anyway, this blondy – said his name was Michael Summers but I heard some call him Brian so I’s not so sure – said he was after stuff, some plans stolen from someone important and we could help each other get our stuff. Actually, he said this at the start, on the big plane – sorry, getting’ the story arse about face here. So, yeah, we went after this Mr Lord, not the lord, Mr Lord …”

“Sam Lord?” asked Sam.

“Yeah, that’s him, Sam Lord,” said Hemi. “Don’t know what he looks like but he’s supposed to be big in the crime world, according to this Michael or Brian or whoever.”

“He looks like me,” said Sam, smiling.

“Looks like you?” asked Hemi, frowning.

“Because he is me,” said Sam. “I am Sam Lord, crime world boss, no less.” Sam leant forward to shake Hemi’s hand and realised it was tied behind his back. Sam sat back, looking embarrassed.

“You’re a crime boss?” asked Mary, swivelling round to face Sam.

“Well that’s what this Michael or Brian cove says,” said Sam. “However, that’s new information to me, I can tell you!” A relieved chuckle circulated the room.

“Yeah, well, I started having my doubts about this Michael fella but I had no other leads,” said Hemi. “You never know who you can trust, do you?”

“Yeah, not even burglars, Hemi,” said John, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

“Yeah, suppose so,” said Hemi, smiling broadly for the first time – bright, white teeth in a brown face, lighting up the room. “Anyway, you wanna’ know the story or not?”

“Yes, yes, Hemi, keep going, please,” said Belinda, sitting forward on her seat, hands clasped.

“Yeah, well, where to start,” said Hemi, looking up as if for inspiration. “Aah, I discovered – well, I think it’s right – this Michael fella’ is working for, or maybe with, a George Sanderson …”

“George Sanderson?” asked Sam, looking shocked. “The Assistant Commissioner, Special Operations, of the London Metropolitan Police? That George Sanderson?”

“Yeah, could be,” said Hemi. “He’s got something to do with security and police and stuff. Seems to have a lot of strings to pull.”

“You’re dashed right he does!” said Sam. “And he’s the sod who they were taking orders from where I was held!”

“And other things I found out,” said Hemi, warming to his tale. “I went through his stuff once or twice and it could be, not really sure, but this George Sanderson could be paid – paid bloody heaps if the stuff I read was correct – aah, paid by one of the power companies here or the petrol companies. Maybe they’re all the same. Y’know, owning one another …”

“Aha, it’s coming together now,” said Sam with a deep sigh. “God, why didn’t I see it all before? See, they captured me with the plans in my briefcase but, because the plans cannot be seen in artificial light, they thought they were useless pieces of paper. They promised to release me if I gave them the “proper” plans, which is why I got you, Mary, to bring another set of bogus plans, like the ones John and Belinda were carting around.”

“Ours were bogus?” asked John, looking astonished.

“Sorry, John, that was for your protection and I’ll explain it later,” said Sam looking embarrassed. “We need to focus on our immediate situation, I’d suggest.”

“Oh shit … sorry, yes!” said John, slapping his palm to his forehead. “So if you’re right, Hemi, the corporations pay the police to do their dirty work. And if it goes wrong, the government servants’ heads roll.”

“Well, heads are already rolling,” said Angus. “There was a something in yesterday’s paper, at home – someone up there tipped them off about the police holding John’s car without authority. There was even a hint the police may have actually stolen it – bit brash for the paper, really.”

“Oh hell, I did that!” said Mary, feeling flushed and faint.

“Hey, hey, just stop a mo’, guys,” said John. “We’re going to have the police knocking on our door so what do we do with Hemi? I gotta’ say I have a good feeling about him.”

“Look, I just want to get our stolen taonga back and get out of this bloody place,” said Hemi. “Enough rain here to sink a waka!”

“I think Hemi knows enough to help us and we might be able to help him,” said John, excitedly. “I vote we stick together with Hemi.”

“I do too, John,” said Sam. “What do you say, Hemi, old chap?”