Called to account?

In Sutherland bemoans the death-knell of the friendly and approachable local bank branch as firms engage in wideranging closures to save money

or 40 years, I have used my local branch of the Bank of Scotland. I have known eight managers ranging in character from the avuncular George, to the meticulous Richard, and the petty and bureaucratic Nigel.

Some were generous and understood how difficult it can be running your own business in the country; others you felt, should get out more! None of them were women. But they were there representing an institution, which like the Bonar Bridge itself, would never vanish.

Behind the counter, girls from school grew into young mums, always careful, always fun, always discreet. It was a sacred bond of trust; the bank in a Highland village is like a pillar in your life, like a steadfast rocky column you can cling on to as all life’s changes come and go. Now it’s being shut. For good. Not just run for a few hours a week, but shut. Not even a cash machine in the wall reminds us of the years of affection, care, frustration, ups and downs. They just close it, citing “economies of scale” or some such claptrap written at a desk in Halifax, or wherever they are. They don’t even know we exist.

Pensions, mortgages, savings accounts, ISAS, current accounts and even the occasional wee loan. None of it was rocket science, but at the bank it all made sense. That mystical blend of common sense, respectability, understanding and the occasional foray into a new venture – nothing too bold, but maybe a house extension, or a new machine for the farm or croft, or perhaps a new car. Sensible pensions and insurances came and went – a bit put away here and there. Ordinary, unexciting, but essential. In Sutherland, the broadband is lousy, and the population is aging. We care for each other. Many people do many things for nothing. Most business today can be done online, but many haven’t the skills to make it happen.

No amount of complaining to our powerless (and some would say useless) MPS and MSPS or to the bank’s senior people seems to make the slightest difference. They attend cosmetic “surgeries” and promise “consultation” citing bogus statistics and the “nearby” branches (20 miles away)! Yet they deliver only disappointment, with a curl in the lip and the certain hidden knowledge that in uttering their contemptible lies the next disappointment is just around the corner.

And so it has proved in Bonar Bridge, home to a few hundred good souls who love it here and choose to stay in this astonishing county.

In their powerful lament “How are things in Auchterturra?” in an imaginary phone call from overseas to the old home village, Scotland the What sang memorably of the closure of the trusty bank. To the question “.... and fit dae folks put their money in?” came the reply “A’bdy has tae hae a biscuit tin”.

Since 2008, and long before that, we have seen that banks have no moral compass, no core of decency, and certainly no social conscience. They don’t serve anyone but themselves. But will they gie us a’ a biscuit tin before they go? Will they lose a moment’s sleep? Nuh. ● Michael Baird lives in Bonar Bridge, Sutherland. He is a retired Scientific Officer and a volunteer with the Kyle of Sutherland Development Trust.