Who Gives You Extra?

Not so long ago, I finally decided to get off my arse and apply for a 16-18 bank account, with debit card and so forth for convenience's sake. I then decided that, what with the Internet being so very helpful, I would instead stay on my arse and apply for a 16-18 bank account, because frankly there was no good reason to walk to Morley when I could have a glass of water and a Big Bowl of Fruit and Yoghurt and do it online.

Once I'd worked my merry way through the forms, which were all very simple except for the one on which you had to come up with a security question (a task which I'm certain is actually more difficult than fraudulently accessing someone else's account), I was informed that my application had been accepted and I would now just have to mosey on down to my local branch and provide them with some proof of identity. So, having already got all this to hand, I did.

The more observant among you, and indeed the less observant, will no doubt have noticed that at this point in the proceedings I have had to get on my arse anyway. I should therefore note that in between those last two sentences, a day or so passed. Super.

So, very shortly I had my identity confirmed, my balance transferred and my old account closed, and just had to wait for my card and PIN to arrive. Not long afterwards, I got an envelope from the bank, which I assumed was one of those things, simply because when I registered for online banking I also requested the paper-free banking service, which would get all my statements sent by e-mail. In the envelope was a statement from my old account, containing one withdrawal, my interest, and my balance transfer. So I waited.

After a couple of days, I received a further envelope from the Halifax which, lo and behold, contained my card. I was told to ensure I memorised my PIN and advised on how to change it, which was valuable advice but would have been rather more use in a mailing containing my PIN. So I waited.

A little after this, I got not one, but two envelopes from the bank. The first contained another statement, entirely identical to the last but with the addition of "Account Closed" to the end. The second contained a pleasant letter explaining that they had found me in their records thanks to my previous account and there was no longer any need for me to take my proof of identification in. I was, of course, already aware that there was no longer any need for me to do that because I had already done it. I'd also, by way of the transfer, deposited more than the £10 required to activate my account, so its reminding me of that was also rather unhepul, particularly as they had apparently made a mistake concerning what kind of account I was opening and told me to deposit £50. So I waited.

Today, my PIN arrived. Now, these things used to come in a little paper envelope-within-an-envelope, covered with a mess of numbers so you couldn't read it by holding it up to the light and could tell if it had been tampered with, which was sensible. That's changed somewhat. Now, you get the same classic scrambled mess, but it's covered by a single paper tab, beneath which is a piece of cloudy see-through plastic with your PIN printed through it. You are advised to turn the letter over and put it on a piece of white paper to get your PIN.

This is not necessary.

In fact, you can read your PIN perfectly well without paper. In fact, if you're capable of reading mirrored numbers, which is hardly the most challenging of tasks, you can read it without turning the letter over. In fact, the only thing that this change achieves is to make it so that, once you remove the tab, anyone nearby can not only read your PIN through the conveniently transparent plastic, but, thanks to the fact that it's reversed when viewed from the side with the tab on, can actually do so more easily than you can. Now that's secure.

Since signing up for paper-free banking about a week ago, I have received approximately three times as much paper from my bank as I did in the whole of last year. In fact, their only concession to actually reducing paper was in replacing that tiny scrap of the letter containing my PIN with plastic, that it might be easier for people to steal from me. I should have never strayed from my children's account. At least with that one they sent me birthday cards.