Predatory economic practices continue to expand in the American economy. Payday lending is perhaps the most egregious example.
Why do we permit such practices? The arguments for practices such as payday lending are twofold. First, defenders of the industry suggest payday lending firms fill a market niche. Those who cannot qualify for conventional loans from banks need access to credit; payday lending provides this service. Second, freedom of choice and individual responsibility. Individual consumers, that is, should have choices, and should be permitted scope for responsibility for their financial decisions.
So where’s the problem?
Let’s start with the second justification: choice. Those who avail themselves of such loans typically face desperate situations that skew their choices. The car has just broken down. Borrow money on a short-term basis to cover the cost of the repair, knowing the terms are painful, or fail to show up for work and lose one’s source of future income? With an unexpected reduction in shifts at work and a consequently smaller paycheck, there is not quite enough money to pay the rent. Borrow on a short-term basis to fill the shortfall, or let the rent go and face the risk of eviction and homelessness? Among others, David Shipler documented precisely such cases in his 2005 book, The Working Poor and Barabara Ehrenreich revealed such dynamics in her 2001 work Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America.
In his recently released and acclaimed work, Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City, Matthew Desmond writes that “Most of the 12 million Americans who take out high-interest payday loans do not do so to buy luxury items or cover unexpected expenses but to pay the rent or gas bill, buy food, or meet other regular expenses. Payday loans are but one of many financial techniques . . . specifically designed to pull money from the pockets of the poor.”
The point is that living at the margins of subsistence alters the decision-making environment; for the poor, such choices are rational. As economists describe this, liquidity constraints affect intertemporal choices — that is, when money is very scarce, decision-making is more heavily weighted toward navigating the present.
The problem with arguments based blandly on individual responsibility is that they implicitly assume we all face the same temporal tradeoffs. (In other words, if I delay gratification and invest now, I’ll have more in the future. Sure, if you have the security of circumstances to comfortably move through the present. If not, the premise is fundamentally misguided.)
Turning to the first case for the existence of short-term lending secured by the borrower’s next paycheck, the implication is that the practice should be regulated because of the gross imbalance between the desperation of the borrower and the profit motive of the lender.
The balanced solution, then, is to subject payday lending to reasonable regulation. Lenders can fill the market niche and earn a profit, without ruining the lives of people who live on the financial margins and who are readily tipped into despair. Organizations like the Center for Responsible Lending, which points out that the average payday loan carries an effective interest rate of 391% have been advocating for regulation for well over a decade.
Along the way, they have faced opposition from those who elevate “individual choice” to sacred status in complete abstraction of the conditions under which choices are made – such as this vapid assessment from the libertarian Mises Institute: “On the margin, it is the borrower and lender who are most fit to decide the appropriateness of any transaction—not the Center for Responsible Lending, or a congressman.”
But here’s where the story becomes truly disturbing. In the wake of the 2008-9 financial crisis and the numerous abuses by financial services firms revealed in the aftermath of the crisis, the U.S. Congress created the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.
The CFPB was designed with an intense focus on consumer protection, and following the political battle to confirm its first director during the Obama Administration, it did just that. The Bureau brought cases and imposed fines on financial firms for racial discrimination in lending and for deceptive practices. The Bureau pursued abuses that ultimately returned $12 billion to 28 million consumers.
With the arrival of a new administration, the focus shifted dramatically. As with virtually all executive agencies from the State Department to the Department of Labor to the Department of the Interior to the Department of Education to Housing and Urban Development to the Environmental Protection Agency, directors were put in place with the mission of deconstructing the agency and giving free rein to private actors to take every advantage of the nation’s resources and profit making opportunities created by public sector withdrawal.
Demonstrating utter disdain for the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, the administration appointed a director who already has a full-time job as Director of the Office of Management and Budget. In his spare time, Mick Mulvaney is systematically dismantling the CFPB, dropping open investigations of financial services firms –including at least one case in which a federal judge has already found the firm guilty of engaging in deceptive practices, and which was awaiting the penalty phase of its case — and actively urging Congress to “cripple” the agency he nominally leads.
Mr. Mulvaney suspended new regulation regulating payday lending scheduled to go into effect in January of this year. And here’s where the disturbing becomes truly grotesque.
As a member of Congress from South Carolina, Mulvaney accepted campaign contributions from the payday lending industry. Bad, but entirely consistent with the level of influence-purchasing that is by now deeply institutionalized in the U.S. Congress. About two weeks ago, at its annual convention, the payday lending industry celebrated Mulvaney’s decision to suspend new regulations.
Where did the convention take place? In the Miama area, at the Trump National Doral Golf Club. A few protestors gathered outside the event, but in the daily chaos and ethical sinkhole of the current administration, relatively few took notice. They took little notice, that is, that the occupant of the White House appointed someone to dismantle regulation of an industry that then acted to put money directly in the pocket of the White House occupant. How can this be?
Those on the political right may wish to defend an anti-regulatory leaning on ideological grounds. Fine. We can respectfully disagree. But why is there not universal outrage in the face of such naked corruption?
The absence of popular outrage demonstrates a couple of sad realities. The institutions responsible for oversight of the ethics of the executive branch are weak, depending for their effectiveness on the executive having a sense of duty and a sense of shame.
Additionally, corruption and profiteering have become normalized in the current administration; the more regularly it occurs, the less we notice.