Banks had our trust, and they exploited it

That venerable institution, CommBank, is now associated with the most maligned of words when it comes to our children – grooming.

Dollarmites is the modern incarnation of that humble tin box – a marketing ploy, back then and now.

It’s a valuable commodity, trust. If you’ve snared someone’s faith in you, well, you can do a lot with it – if you’re that way inclined. You can exploit the one who trusts you. Emotionally manipulate them, bind them to you, trap them. Trust shouldn’t be about control but in this misaligned, fractious world we’re living in it feels like a quality to be grouped alongside the virtues of kindness and enthusiasm – a weakness, to be exploited. We’ve come to that.

Which brings me to the familiar tin money boxes from the Commonwealth Bank; you may have one tucked in a suitcase under a bed, or on a high shelf, or have caught sight of one in an antique shop. They’re collectable. They have value not only as Australiana but as little madeleines of Aussie youth; objects that trigger a memory journey into childhood, plunging us back to a time of innocence and security and unthinking trust. There’s great power in that little tin. Seeing one again reminds me that somewhere in an old cardboard box is a floppy passbook with handwritten entries with date stamps besides them; my very first, meagre, savings. Oh, that bank had me, before I grew up and moved on.

Which brings me to its Dollarmites program, rolled out in schools across the nation. It’s the modern incarnation of that humble tin box – a marketing ploy, back then and now. CommBank has our first account market pretty well sewn up – they’re market leaders by a long shot. It’s all about rusted on customers, snaring the kids early and keeping them. Yet earlier this year it was revealed that thousands of Dollarmites accounts were fraudulently used by CommBank branch staff so they could meet sales targets and receive their bonuses. And despite senior management being alerted way back in 2013, no disciplinary action was taken.

Schools receive payments for how many accounts they open, and for how much is deposited in them. And so that venerable institution, the Commonwealth Bank, is now associated with that most maligned of words when it comes to our children – grooming – because it grooms our nation’s young to become lifelong customers, in the security of their school environment. And it’s been doing it for generations.

This is the bank the royal commission has shown charged fees to dead people. Charged more fees for no service than any other major bank. Sold insurance to people unable to use it. The bank responsible for one of the nation’s worst failures of financial planning, leaving customers with disappearing bank balances; which includes putting customer’s money into risky and inappropriate investments, just so bankers could receive their bonuses. The greed, dishonesty and exploitation feels close to criminal. And it’s all about a grotesque and obscene abuse of that most valued of qualities – trust. The Commonwealth Bank knew it had it, because it had been cultivated so carefully in many instances from childhood, through the generations, and it saw that trust as fabulously exploitable.

Get Dollarmites out of our schools. The scheme stinks. As my kids start opening their own bank accounts, I’m telling them a sorry tale. That banks are basically about selling a product, and they’re greedy with it, ruthless and unscrupulous. I’m telling the teenagers to shop around, do some research; because actually, CommBank may not have your best interests at heart at all, if the royal commission is anything to go by.

It’s a truth I never wanted to have to tell my children: that the banking industry is crying out for disruption. Because trust is a precious commodity and it’s not meant to be exploited yet CommBank has done it with the nation’s young. The time is ripe for a new, ethical model of banking; disruption on a scale that Uber was to the taxi industry, far removed from the grubbiness of our venal Big Four.