Not only is Assistant Treasurer Stephen Jones wrapped tightly around Australian Banking Association chief Anna Bligh’s finger, but it’s the worst-kept secret in Canberra.
Sydney storm swells Bra Beach
The well-worn cliche is that politicians are always acting at the behest of someone influential, a deep-pocketed backer with incredible force-exertion over their office. And when it comes to Assistant Treasurer Stephen Jones, it’s sadly, unmistakably true.
The well-worn cliche is that politicians are always acting at the behest of someone influential, a deep-pocketed backer with incredible force-exertion over their office. And when it comes to Assistant Treasurer Stephen Jones, it’s sadly, unmistakably true.
Just try to name a minister who’s been more thoroughly played by stakeholders. In Jones’s case, his masters occupy the deep-leather chairs of the Australian Banking Association, led by the indomitable former Queensland premier Anna Bligh. Not only is Jones wrapped tightly around her finger, but this is also the worst-kept secret in Canberra. We have it on impeccable authority that the ABA all but writes the minister’s speaking notes.
Not on every topic in Jones’s portfolio, of course – just one special inconvenience that they loathe with incredible passion. It’s called the Consumer Data Right, and the policy has been a target of an aggressive, covert lobbying campaign by the ABA since the Albanese government came to power.
Banks hate the CDR. Implemented in 2020, it forces them to share hard-earned consumer data with their competitors, data that – in the distorted worldview of the banks – belongs to them, not you. The CDR allows customers to switch banks with far greater ease than would otherwise be possible.
This was a Morrison-era policy. The vision was for a CDR that would span economy-wide, beyond mere banks and energy companies, its reach to eventually include telecoms, superannuation funds and non-bank lenders. Since 2022, when Labor won government and a frazzled Jones found himself in the ministry, the CDR has been basically spat out like a bad oyster. This is no accident.
In a week’s time, Jones will deliver a speech on the CDR at a CEDA forum in Sydney. Attendees paying $1500 per table are truly waiting bated for any hint of an update on this policy – if only to know when this pivotal policy will finally touch their sector. Jones said last year that non-bank lenders such as Afterpay and Cash Converters would be forced to comply by 2024.
But in crushing news to many, and in an extraordinary victory for the banks, Margin Call understands the minister’s speech will largely repeat the moth-eaten talking points of a year ago and conveniently kick the can down the road on CDR expansion.
How do we know this? Because indiscreet banking officials, claiming to be privy to the contents of the speech, have been gabbing all over town that they’ve successfully killed off the rollout.
And they’re not cheering because CBA suddenly likes sharing data with ANZ or Westpac; the banks still hate the CDR and even released a report last month arguing strongly for its uselessness.
They’re celebrating because the banks truly see consumer data – your data – as their property. Deranged by their own Smeagol-like obsessiveness, they cannot bear the notion of sharing this information with anyone else beyond their fiefdoms.
The ABA has truly played a blinder on Jones. With all the topspin it can muster, its people have skilfully convinced a Labor minister to back away from a policy of broad, unquestionable consumer benefit – for the strategic advantage of the nation’s largest banks.
This is quite a knot for any Labor minister to try to untie on their own, but especially Jones, whose credulousness suggests a daily struggle with his shoelace, and who’s abandoned all pretence of even trying to fight for the consumer any more.
Bar is raised, again
Stern words have reached us out of The Australian Club in Melbourne following Margin Call’s report on Tuesday that the high bar for membership had recently dropped at the male-only establishment – and that a row had erupted over this easing of the entry rules.
So easy is it to swan in to the William St venue, apparently, that prospective member Ryan Batros, formerly of Morgans, was on the verge of receiving the nod for admission. That’s despite receiving a five-year ban from ASIC some years ago, a blemish on the record that would ordinarily deem him a non-starter.
Club bosses, yet to have heard of “the internet” or “Google”, said on Tuesday that they were never told about it.
“Members may have read the article in the Margin Call column in The Australian today,” wrote president Charles Henry, in a very unhappy note to the fellas, and acting as though he didn’t have eight weeks to conduct a few mouse-clicks of due diligence himself.
“In light of the nondisclosure, the candidate has been withdrawn from the ballot pursuant to the rules of the club.
“Furthermore the committee categorically rejects the allegation that there has been a fall in any standards at the club.”
Sure about that? Quoth one recently resigned club member to Margin Call: “When I joined, this was a place where you saw captains of industry dining with the best legal minds in the city. Now it’s boorish trust fund kids and journeyman lawyers running the place.”
Meanwhile, in truly bizarre timing, some 45 minutes after Henry’s fist-clenched note arrived, members received a second email inviting them to the annual “prospective members cocktail party”.
“This is a wonderful opportunity to showcase the club and enjoy a wonderful night in equally excellent company!” the invitation said.
Sneesby reception
The menacing of Mike Sneesby by his aggrieved staff continues, although he managed to evade further efforts at harassment on Tuesday. The Nine CEO has definitely departed Paris and was rumoured to be arriving in Sydney during the afternoon. Some two dozen journalists and union representatives gathered at Kingsford Smith Airport to give him a very special welcome on arrival.
Perhaps he walked in off another flight, or is lying low elsewhere, or ducked out through the VIP entrance on arrival? The disappointed protest troupe couldn’t find him anywhere. Calls to Sneesby’s mobile were still yielding an international dial tone around the time he was expected to be wheels down.
Cups runneth over
Did you know Treasury spent $3300 on Keep Cups? The department spends quite a pretty penny on knick knacks and tchotchkes of little value (consistent with a few of its in-house policies). Some $5000 on protein shakers for the gym sharks who end up in its entry-level programs. Commemorative coins, click-top pens, hand sanitiser. Nearly $50,000 all up in FY24 on promotional bulls..t. But the biggest expense? $8058 on Bluetooth speakers, given out to volunteers at a tax event.
