While we shouldn’t blame front line bank staff for the banking cock-ups of the last decade, the truth is that the banks have put none sales people into sales roles.  Retail bankers with relevant experience in their traditional roles have had their numbers diluted by this practice.

These sales roles didn’t exist when bank staff consisted of professional bankers. The introduction of selling and sales targets to people who left school and chose to work in a safe respected industry brought about resentment and disillusionment among experienced staff.

Time served staff were hoisted out on the back of restructuring, mergers and takeovers. People who could sell we’re kept, new people who couldn’t sell were recruited en mass, low salaries, possibilities of high commission, high staff turnover.

This new breed of sales staff mis-sold loans, credit cards, insurances etc. They were badly trained sales people with no eye for the intricacies of the complex decisions required of long term, expensive financial choices.

It probably started with deregulation, when companies used to selling tangible manufactured items had the cash to set up banking divisions. Tesco, Sainsbury, Virgin et al, corporations that knew how to shift product.

Like everything that the human race has fucked up, it’s made some rich people very rich, a lot of people ill and will take many many years to correct and improve.

Sundays normally take one of two forms, lazy day of chilling before the week’s return to work or busy trying to cram activity in, before the week’s return to work.

Today wasn’t really that different, Nicky and I woke before the boys, quite early for a Sunday, earlier than 9 I think.  After a while I could hear Matthew scuttling about.  Matthew is seven, a good age for celebration day scuttling.  On Christmas morning he moves about his room wondering whether it is too early to go wake mum and dad, or maybe his older brother.

Today Matthew was scuttling because it was Fathers’ Day.

I sat in bed, smiling, not because I was going to get spoilt, maybe, but at that boy’s excitement.  Nicky and I had eaten breakfast, I’d been served scrambled egg on toast, tea and fresh orange.  Mum went to get Matthew who in turn went for James  while Nicky carried George in.  That was my day made, wife and three kids on the bed.  My eldest, Tom (step-son) was fast asleep in his room, he works weekend evenings in a bar.  At 6 foot something there was no room on the bed for him to, though I’m sure we’d have squozed up for him.