It has been said that a long time sitting in front of clients telling them what to do with their money can do funny things to your mind. Nick Bruining explores the more sinister side of financial planning.
It has been said that a long time sitting in front of clients telling them what to do with their money can do funny things to your mind. Nick Bruining explores the more sinister side of financial planning.
Nasty stuff this financial planning. At least it’s getting that way out there in plannaworld (AKA Wally world but as a participant, we’ll leave that one alone).
There was a time when you could wander around the place, gently fending off criticism from all sorts, concerned only with whether or not entry fees would drop below 6 per cent and whether trails would remain as whole numbers.
ASIC was the NCSC, not to be confused with the NSC (National Safety Council) who could rent you a Bell 212 Iriquoi Chopper for 50 bucks a weekend with no questions asked. Skasey and Pixy were our heroes and people read Noel Whittaker to find out new things to do with their money.
Oh, how times have changed. These days you need to watch your back. In honour of this growing tradition, this week I thought we’d move into an area of true intrigue, shadowy figures and generally weird stuff.
I know what you’re thinking – product development managers. Shadowy no, weird definitely. They must come from the same school as software people. You know the type, random twitches of the left lip, pupils permanently dilated, generally a few fries short of a Happy Meal.
Product development managers move through industries over time. In the 1970s, they all ganged up and bought out the Leyland P76. In the ‘80s, they bought out the stupid log maker thingy where you wet your newspapers (settle down) with water and pressed them into a fire log. You just had to wait a decade for the thing to dry out and use it.
In the ‘90s, they invented the piece de resistance – Tax Pack. The idea here was to suck everyone into thinking they could be accountants. Trouble is, the bloody thing worked. Even New Zealanders could complete a tax return without assistance. OK, it may have smelt of lanolin, but the idea was great: make accountants go broke.
Tragically, the accountants worked it out too and before you know it, got to help the product managers with some “fine tuning”. Well, as they say, the rest is history and we now have tax pack Mark II. The accountants are thriving again.
Any way back to the purpose of this drivel, the truly sneaky spies. There are highly skilled, trained industrial espionage operatives out there. Call me paranoid if you like, but they’re out there, watching us.
Now I’m not talking about the odd visiting national office guru, sniffing about to make sure EVERYTHING’s going through the dealer’s account and you’re not accidentally dropping the odd cheque for fees in your account. Did I ever mention that I don’t get that any more?
Nor am I talking about the Bundy Delivery Man (BDM). Are we getting the hint?
I’m talking about the people out there who you least suspect. Like your priest. A colleague recently reported a trip to confession that went something like this: “Bless me father for I have sinned. This week I put seven people into a master trust, ran over the cat and murdered the mother in law.”
“Yes my son, what was the entry fee and did you use diversifieds or sector funds, which ones and how much do you have under management now?”
Word is, this type of intelligence goes straight to the Vatican. Before you know it, the Micks will be buying up all the fund managers with positive cashflow.
Banks. Now banks are cool. Warm fuzzy friends. Adds with kids, day old ducks and grandparents all frolicking in a sun drenched field, splattered with the colours of spring as they talk about coming home from Anzac Cove. Frequent flyer points for free. “You’re call’s important to us” telephone services. Ah, I just want to love ‘em.
The mere fact that all my fees, brokerage and expenses goes through a bank and now god bless ‘em, I can Bpay things so they have the payee details (breathe Nick) as well, hasn’t escaped my notice. Do you think they might be interested in collating the transactional data on every dealer they have as an account? Nup — course not.
Give me a credit union any day. My credit union still thinks financial planning involves spreading your funds over a range of term deposits with differing maturity dates. The only hedging strategy they have is about whether or not they should screen the car-park with one. And a revolving line of credit is a mobile hung from the ceiling made of bank-cards. I love ‘em.
Computer support experts. The girl that comes in to clean the little roller on your mouse when your system appears to freeze up. What is that stuff that clogs the little roller? For a supposedly inert object it looks awfully organic. I know, let’s call it MOUSE JAM!
Anyway, the girl comes in to do the Mouse Jam at $240 an hour (or part thereof), taps away for 20 minutes and leaves with six CD Roms positively glowing because they’ve had so much burnt into them. Now there’s a job I’m gonna get my kids into one day. None of this ethics rubbish. Get in there, copy, burn and extort!
Even in the holy depths of the FPA there are spies.
Exhibit A (see picture). Look’s like a hip new female planner. Probably runs the FPA section specialising in the under 30s demographic group? Think again. ASCPA operative heading up their financial planning section in Victoria, seen recently at the Hobart CFP conference. I’m telling you, they’re out there. Now they’re in my head! The voices, the voices, stop the voices !
