Cons um ing Interest
On the Never
By LESLIE ADRIAN READING that the end-of- year bad debt total in- curred by the hire-pur- chase companies is likely to be nearer £10 million than £7 million, I could not help feeling that it is a kind of poetic, if rough, justice. Some of the devices which have been used by the more marginal companies to get round the law and so extend the hire-purchase debt of people who can ill afford it deserve nothing better. Switch selling has by now, I hope, become familiar to all of us (not that Spectator readers would ever fall for this trick). The salesman demonstrates a,cheap vacuum cleaner or sewing machine, but his task is not to sell it, but to sell the better and much more expensive model he has left in his car. Hence the demonstration machine has a poor performance—Tut what can you expect for the money, lady?' Before she has time to draw breath the innocent housewife (husbands, with their air of being gadget-minded, are some- times a stumbling-block for the switch seller) has signed up for a machine twice as expensive as the one she saw advertised when she filled in the coupon (Please send me details of the Wonder Wizard, without obligation).
The Retail Distributors' Standards Association went so far as to investigate some such firms: in one case the 'offer' (a sewing-machine) had never existed at all; machines offered instead were re- conditioned ones sold for a vastly inflated price. And their attempts actually to order the adver- tised machine, sending a cheque with their order, were fruitless; the cheque was sent back as they 'make a point of arranging a personal call to show and explain machines. . .
But the salesmen do have to observe the law as it applies to hire-purchase contracts. The machine costs £40, of which 30 per cent. must be paid immediately. The housewife can only put her hand on £3, so the salesman 'lends' her the rest of the £13 to £14 deposit. In many cases his commission covers it, and in the end he gets it back. In many parts of the country salesmen have been known to take old bedsteads or the poultry in the backyard (overvalued for the occasion) as 'deposit,' just to cover the legal obligation. Is it any wonder that there are de- faulters, and that the courts are crowded with these unhappy people?
Another sickening aspect of the hire-purchase business is the Simon Legree attitude of even some of the big retail chains. I have seen circulars addressed to elderly women, who had fallen ill and were one or two small instalments behind, which were of such an alarmist nature that I instructed one such lady to send it to a solicitor. The wording sometimes goes after this fashion— 'You will be taken to court, and you will be made to pay; so you might as well pay now.' And all this on printed or duplicated form letters sent out impersonally and indiscriminately by clerks, who neither know nor care about the circum- stances of the recipient.
The same sort of firm sends out high-sounding, authoritative reminders, in the guise of letters sent personally and signed by the managing director, to the effect that 'I am disappointed not to have seen you in my store lately,' followed by what is almost an order to turn up or else. You and I would throw it on the back of the fire, but Mrs. Arris takes it seriously, and turns up, and buys some more anxiety for her family.
Renting has started to take the place of hire purchase, with stocks of household goods piling up and the restrictions tight. Not many people have bitten yet, I understand, because renting a washing machine is not so satisfying as 'owning' it on the never-never. One thing the selling com- pany has to watch is that the customer goes on paying rent even when the machine has been more than paid for and the payments are down to Is. a week. If they do not press 'or fail to reclaim' they are breaking the law.
Breakfast is the one time of the day when everything should go smoothly—the critical period in matrimony, as A. P. Herbert so rightly said. But the makers of one of our traditional breakfast ingredients are out to send us to the office nervous, irritable, and -ripe for divorce.
'Pierce with a pin and push off,' sneers the lid of the marmalade jar. Failing to find a pin at the breakfast table, I jab the top with a fork—four holes instead of one. By the time I have pushed off this delicate foil closure (as they love to call them) it is a mangled and twisted wreck which can never be re-used. A second, more permanent cap would be better than a free golliwog. '
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