The retirement of Financial Services Ombudsman Joe Meade will cost consumers, writes PAUL CULLEN

MORE THAN 25,000 disgruntled customers of banks, building societies and money advisers have beaten a path to Joe Meade’s door since he became Financial Services Ombudsman in 2005.

At times, the most disgruntled or distressed went so far as to turn up at his house in Portmarnock to air their grievances. “I’d give them a cup of tea and listen to their stories, and then invite them to apply to my office in the normal way,” he recalls.

From this weekend (Saturday, January 2nd), when he retires on his 60th birthday, Meade will no longer have to deal with aggrieved investors and their tales of financial collapse. Forty people have applied to be his successor, but an appointment is still some way off.

His departure is a clear loss for consumers, even if he rejected four out of every 10 complaints crossing his desk and his office is increasingly embroiled in lengthy and expensive legal proceedings.

Meade’s style was at once folksy and direct, and he managed to connect with ordinary citizens in a way in which other, more anonymous regulators failed to do. His office was small, but its mandate was more clearly defined, and he was well equipped to fight for thousands of Davids against the Goliaths of the financial world.

“I always felt it was better for consumers to be able to deal directly with the actual decision-maker. There’s nothing worse than getting information second-hand,” he says. “I think it’s appalling that State bodies employ public relations agents to do something that’s part of their job.”

The Clareman believes his office has made a difference, but he remains astonished at how little many of the financial institutions have learned about their treatment of customers.

He says he is appalled at the way credit unions have invested members’ money without proper advice, or knowing the risks involved. He criticises the way commission-driven financial products were sold “at all costs” without regard to their suitability. He is dismissive of the excuses used by financial services companies to justify treatment of elderly customers, many of whom were sold long-term or high-risk bonds that were completely unsuited to their needs.

Meade acknowledges that service providers are entitled to appeal his decisions to the courts, but senses delaying tactics in their increasing litigiousness. During his terms as ombudsman, 50 High Court appeals were launched against his decisions.

That’s just 0.02 per cent of the total number of cases, he points out, but it still involves considerable delay and frustration for many complainants. In January 2006, for example, he ordered Ulster Bank to refund €7.4 million to 500 investors, but this was appealed and is now before the Supreme Court; a decision is due early next year, four years later.

“That’s a long, long time a person has to wait,” he says. In spite of his experiences before the courts – the High Court quashed one key decision in a case brought by Davy stockbrokers – Meade believes it would be wrong to shy away from litigation. Twenty per cent of cases are settled before a full hearing, while victories in some cases have led providers to settle similar cases without recourse to the courts.

Meade was asked to stay on for a while until a new ombudsman was appointed, but declined. Implicitly critical of the delay in finding a successor, he says he gave three months’ notice, and cannot understand why a new boss would not be in place on the day after he leaves.

In retirement, he has plans for some volunteering, part-time farming in Co Clare, and a return to third-level studies.

And yes, if there ever is an investigation into Ireland’s financial collapse, he might have some plain words to say to it.