Banking

The Dodd-Frank law, enacted in 2010 following the financial crisis of 2007-08, was named for two of its chief architects, Senator Chris Dodd, Democrat of Connecticut, and Representative Barney Frank, Democrat of Massachusetts. It's ironic that both had been involved, politically or personally, in exactly what had caused the financial crisis in the first place. In the 1930s, only about 10 percent of American non-farm families owned their own homes. But that began to change with the New Deal. The Federal Housing Administration was established in 1934 to guarantee mortgages, making banks much more willing to initiate them.

Headlines about ‘alarm over CreditSuisse’ might be read as a sign of normality in financial news, rather than the reverse. The second-ranked Swiss bank (behind UBS) has slipped on so many banana skins in recent years that, as I wrote in February: ‘I sometimes wonder how and why it survives.’ As a recognised basket-case, its difficulties are not usually seen as harbingers of systemic trouble. But in the Kwarteng-induced febrile mood of London’s markets, the question has to be asked. This is October, the devil’s favourite month for provoking crashes. Could Credit Suisse be the tornado on banking’s horizon? Amid rumours of critical balance-sheet weakness, Credit Suisse’s shares have fallen 60 per cent this year.

Is anything anywhere getting noticeably better – economically speaking – or at least less bad? Are commodities and manufactured goods beginning to move more freely, for example, to ease the demand pressures that are stoking inflation? It’s good news that the number of container ships anchored off Los Angeles-Long Beach waiting to unload has fallen from more than 100 in January to around 20 at the latest count, but I note also that dockers there are demanding a 10 per cent pay rise. Drewry’s World Container Index – the handiest indicator of global shipping costs – has fallen 32 per cent from its peak last autumn, but remains five times higher than in the autumn of 2019.

I sincerely hope you’re not reading this on a holiday flight that’s sitting on the tarmac with no indication as to when it might take off – or a sad train home after your flight was suddenly cancelled. Brace for three-hour delays at security, we’re told; don’t even try checking bags in, and at worst, as happened to Tui passengers at Manchester who thought they were going to Kos, watch out for a text after you’ve boarded telling you you’re going nowhere at all. How and why? When the pandemic set in, airlines and airports – thinking, not unreasonably, that their industry was doomed – made mass redundancies rather than keeping sufficient staff on furlough.

Lloyds Bank has been running a new advertising campaign which updates its long-standing black horse corporate branding. The horses no longer thunder along a beach, but interact with people who we assume are actual or potential customers. The soothing payoff slogan goes: ‘Lloyds Bank. By your side.’ The latest episode features a girl who slightly puts me in mind of our 17-year-old daughter. She happens to bank with Lloyds, but there the happy parallel ends. On a Saturday afternoon in March, a person unknown withdrew £440 from our daughter’s account via an ATM. At that precise time, our daughter was playing her clarinet during an audition for a London orchestra.

Should you happen to spot me these days lurking outside a Calvin Klein boutique, notebook in hand, I assure you I have a serious purpose. I’m applying the method of the former US Federal Reserve chairman Alan Greenspan, who relished statistical minutiae and believed that sales of men’s underpants – an item so out of sight that a chap could readily choose not to replace worn-out ones when he senses an economic pinch ahead – offer a reliable indicator of impending downturns. That’s precisely the sort of trend we need to watch right now, when the Office for Budget Responsibility tells us to expect UK growth at 3.8 per cent this year and 1.8 per cent next year despite the crippling cost-of-living surge and the fear factor of war in Ukraine.

The war in Ukraine will dominate the news for the foreseeable future. But while the bombings will eventually cease, the economic consequences for the world have just begun. That’s because in an era of increasing interconnectedness, economic impacts don’t stop at borders. Most attention has been focused on the immediate impacts of sanctions on Russia, and they are significant. In the past, sanctions have proven largely ineffective at punishing foreign enemies. President Barack Obama, for example, failed to use them effectively in 2014 during the last Ukrainian-Russian dispute. But this time, the actions taken against Russia were largely unprecedented, with even traditionally neutral countries like Switzerland and Sweden calling for restrictions that are “as big as they can be.

BP will offload the 20 per cent stake in Rosneft, the Kremlin-controlled energy giant, that is the residue of 25 years’ effort to teach true capitalism in Russia. Shell is ditching a deal with Gazprom, the other state oil and gas major, that includes participation in the stalled Nord Stream 2 gas pipeline to Europe and an LNG project at Sakhalin in the Russian far east. Western companies in many other sectors will abandon their footholds in Putin’s empire in the coming days. Russia’s one-generation dalliance with the western way of business – as opposed to lawless homegrown kleptocracy – is over. But just because Rosneft pays handsome dividends, let’s not vilify BP (or Shell) for trying.

Last month, my bicycle got a flat tyre. ‘Both of those tyres are gonna need replacing and you’ve knackered your sprockets,’ huffed the bike man. The bill came to £230. It’s the kind of irritating expense that means I run out of beer money a week before payday. I’ve always assumed I’m a reasonably normal spender. Work pays me, the money gradually disappears over the month, with hopefully a bit left over for my Isa. I’m vaguely aware that something exists called a ‘credit card’, but my parents always made clear to me that if you don’t have the money for something, don’t buy it. Where I differ from older spenders is that like many under-thirties I use a Monzo card.