A Fighting Chance

We also met with a lot of banking groups—at least the ones who would meet with us. The big banks were funding a huge push to get rid of the consumer agency, but Dan and I tried to meet with the representatives for the small banks and credit unions. The pitch was straightforward: You’re getting hammered by giant banks and unregulated lenders that build their businesses by tricking their customers, and the consumer agency could help level the playing field. Many of the smaller lenders opposed the agency even so, but sometimes we sparked a little interest.


We looked for meetings everywhere, and we often ended up on Capitol Hill, trying to get someone to listen to our pitch. A lot of those meetings were hard. Several members of Congress told me that customers just needed to pay closer attention to the financial agreements they signed. Others said they couldn’t support a bill that they claimed would mean a bigger government. Others met with us but barely seemed to listen and hardly said anything at all.

I remember one meeting particularly well. A congresswoman who seemed really interested in what we had to say told me that she supported consumers and wanted to see them treated fairly. Then she raised a specific objection to the agency. I answered, but instead of talking about the issue, she moved on to another objection, and so on through a list of about half a dozen more problems.

Despite her many objections, I felt a little encouraged. Once Dan and I were out in the hall, I said, “Well, she didn’t agree with much of anything, but at least she was talking. Maybe we have a shot at persuading her.”

For a moment, Dan looked like he was weighing whether to give me the bad news. But Dan never holds back long on bad news. He explained that the congresswoman had just run through every talking point included in a press release issued by the American Bankers Association that morning. In order.

Oh.

The most discouraging meetings were with those members of Congress who seemed to understand the problem but refused to do anything about it. Representatives on both sides of the aisle—Republicans and Democrats—said, in effect, Yeah, people are getting tricked, but the banks aren’t going to let this agency go through, so why should I be a martyr for something that won’t even happen? If everyone else agreed to the bill, they’d go along. But a lot of people we met with were hesitant to stick their neck out.

I wasn’t giving up, but I started to understand why the banks seemed invincible. As summer wore on, the hallways got more and more crowded with lobbyists—and I mean that literally. The halls in Congress are wide and gracious, yet Dan and I would often have to step to the side with our backs against the wall while a herd of bank lobbyists thundered down the corridor. They were easy to spot: a group of a dozen or more men and maybe one or two women in the mix, all wearing custom-tailored suits. They walked with a bounce in their step as they spoke with great assurance about their “counts” and which member of Congress was next on their list. Well dressed. Well coordinated. Well connected.

Financial reform was complicated, and the bank lobbyists used a clever technique: They bombarded the members of Congress with complex arguments filled with obscure terms. Whenever a congressman pushed back on an idea, the lobbyists would explain that although the congressman seemed to be making a good point, he didn’t really understand the complex financial system. And keep in mind, the lobbyists would tell the congressman, that if you get this wrong, you will bring down the global economy.

It was the ultimate insiders’ play: Trust us because we understand it and you don’t.

The pressure on elected officials to master the ins and outs of financial reform put them in a tough spot. As one congresswoman put it, “There’s so much going on around here, it’s like they attach your lips to a fire hydrant and turn on the water. No one can keep up.” She was wrong. The lobbyists kept up.

Another meeting from that summer also stands out. Dan and I sat down with a congressman who asked some very specific questions about the current law and the proposed consumer agency. The questions were reasonable, if a little obscure. I thought he might—just might—be someone who would join our side. Offhand, I didn’t know the answers to some of the questions, but I knew they were out there somewhere. It would take the better part of a day to track down the research, write up a memo, and then have a meeting with the congressman’s staffer to go over our answers.