One day Ed, CEO of the local community bank, was in his office waiting for the start of the most dispirited board meeting in his bank’s 100-plus year history. As he waited, Ed began reminiscing about his first day at the bank, when he began working as an office boy at age twelve.
Over the years Ed worked in virtually every area of the bank, rising through the ranks to eventually become CEO, always remembering and adhering to those lessons and examples of high integrity and morals taught to him by his father and predecessors at the bank.
Don't try to figure out which bank is Ed's. He is fictional. But having been a state regulator for over three decades, let me just say his story is very real.
Ed glanced at the walls of his office which were adorned with memorabilia of the bank’s history. There was the framed 1929 newspaper article describing how the bank became the first bank in the region to establish bank branches. There was also the 1933 article that chronicled how the bank became embroiled in the nation’s banking crisis, but quickly reopened after President Roosevelt’s nationwide “bank holiday”, and had remained open ever since, successfully weathering business cycle after cycle. There was the 1958 article describing how the bank building had been demolished in the great hurricane, but the bank opened the very next day with only a kitchen table, a legal pad for recording, and a bagful of money to lend. And there was the 1994 article that said interstate bank branching would be the end, beyond question, of community banks, a widely held view of the time.
Scattered about Ed’s office were numerous citations, commendations, and thank-you notes from customers and local residents sharing their personal stories of gratitude for the bank’s dedication and service, often in times of great despair. Ed bemused about how he promised himself time and again that he would organize these mementos but never found the time, now there would be no time or use for that now. Ed often heard people remark about how much the bank had contributed to the community, but Ed was always quick to respond that it was the community that had actually contributed more to the bank. Ed knew it was the community’s support, in large part, which enabled the bank to survive many an obstacle during its long history, obstacles that even larger banks could not and did not survive. However, this bank could survive no longer.
The financial crisis of 2008 and aftermath had unfortunately created, among other things, an environment in which it was no longer cost effective to operate a profitable community bank. Regulatory compliance costs had become overwhelming, and compliance costs were expected to only further increase with the new reforms and regulations to be written in the coming months and years. Direct and indirect regulatory impediments were stifling lending activities and access to capital. Washington officials were encouraging community banks to lend, saying regulators should help, not hinder lending; but the message was getting lost somewhere up and down the line.
Ed heard the board members assembling in the board room next to his office. It was time for the board to convene and vote to sell the bank. Ed wondered how this could have happened; he never thought it would end like this. His bank had not made risky mortgage loans, and did not invest in risky securities. The bank had always received good regulatory evaluations. There was no arrogance or greed about this town or the bank, unlike in other places and institutions. The bank had stayed the course that had worked for over 100 years, but the burdens and costs were too great now. As Ed entered the board room, he felt like he was dying a little inside.