For richer, not for poorer: bank gets divorce from reality

IF love means never having to say sorry, money apparently means never having to mean it.

The love story is a tricky triangle involving AIB, the customers it claims to cherish and the financial regulator to which it is eternally bound.

After yesterday’s performance, both parties might have a claim for wrongful misrepresentation as it seems the bank only has eyes for itself.

It was a remarkably robust display of self-containment for a philanderer caught cheating both partners and raises the question of whether the bank’s acronym should stand for Arrogance In Buckets.

Bank chairman Dermot Gleeson spoke in the sincere tones of a chastened lover recently arisen from a marriage counselling couch, declaring intentions of pursuing his relationships with “candour and contrition”.

All very admirable until you realise candour and contrition can mean: “Darling, I think you’re an ass and I’m sorry to have to tell you so.”

Clearly AIB does think it grazes off a rich pasture inhabited by dumb asses for what it tried to pass off as an apology was akin to painting a black circle on a wall and expecting passersby to jump through it in the hope of meeting Stephen Hawking.

The bank said it was sorry, but also that it didn’t really do anything wrong except in a technical sense, as one would appreciate if one understood Section 147 of the Consumer Credit Act.

Mr Gleeson smiled when mentioning this piece of impenetrable legalese, indicating he didn’t expect consumers to understand it.

The bank was able to say while it charged excess amounts, it didn’t overcharge; that while it acted in an unauthorised fashion, the actions were generally in line with its competitors; and while it broke the law, it had no legal obligation to make amends.

Of course, it is going to pay back those it didn’t overcharge because AIB isn’t the kind of suitor who only sends bunches of flowers when he’s feeling guilty about something. But just in case there were any pangs of conscience about things it didn’t do, the bank brought along a one-man fan club to massage its sense of self-worth. US investigator Gene Ludwig looked positively smitten as he declared he’d been through the bowels of ill-behaved banks all over the globe and found AIB the best when it came to addressing its wrongs. Good at admitting it’s bad, in other words.

AIB may be cocksure about stringing customers and regulators along but divorce proceedings from reality must surely be under way.