An independent (financial adviser’s) view

Those who know will know that my few-days city mini-break was alas not much of a break but instead highlighted the benefits of both insurance and of speaking a bit of Spanish. And of an NHS where, despite its many faults, the ambulance paramedic does not yet whip out a card machine on arrival at hospital; although one or two deluded Farage-istas to whom I’ve mentioned this seem to think that following suit might solve all of our current problems. In other health-related news, I’ve spoken to two clients in recent days setting off for Hungary and Turkey respectively, for cut-price dental work. I know. Anyway, Spring has officially sprung, Easter’s? upon us, the sun will shine and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Oh and, yes, it’s official, awards and awards ceremonies are nonsense and a waste of everyone’s time…

“Critical illness insurance suffers from ‘identity crisis’”

I have said many times that the many of us who once made a life-insurance-commission-based living should remember, and not be afraid to go back to our roots from time to time. Life insurance should be a basic of all financial planning for anyone with any responsibilities and not just for those lucky enough these days to get a mortgage. Critical illness cover should be a required add-on, and I’ve been reminded of its potential importance twice in as many days. I read of an adviser who had insured himself many years ago, and had the common financial adviser problem of trying to remember what advice he’d given himself and retrieve and dust down his policy following a nasty diagnosis. Then some clients, whom I had thankfully persuaded to cover a now-repaid mortgage, had kept their policy going and had similarly bad news, very slightly softened by the payout they should receive. The old line: it will either be a waste of money or the best thing you ever did; and let’s hope it’s a waste of money.

“UK inflation falls to lowest level since 2022”

Well, here’s something to put a smile on Rishi and Jeremy’s collective faces: inflation has fallen. Actually, since last year, quite a bit, from 11% or more to 3% or more. Apparently, most is down to food prices, but, whatever, it’s the effect on interest rates which is likely to be key. They won’t go up any more and should, all being equal etc., start to come down, probably pre-election; and falling interest rates can usually push up both shares and bonds (loans to government and companies), which in most ‘balanced’ portfolios, are used to balance one another. In the US, which has the biggest effect on your investments, inflation has been 3%-ish for a while, and their economy continues to do pretty darn well, whatever DT would like you/them to think. He’s a known unknown, of course, but I’d still say all looks good, glass half-full and positive (investment) mental attitude.

“Is the UK recession over? Latest UK GDP stats show growth uptick in January: investment experts warn against complacency”

We have been or are, depending on your point of view or choice of statistics, in the midst of a recession. The faint glimmer at the end of a long tunnel is that the economy apparently grew in January, although 0.2% isn’t exactly storming ahead. The thing is, both the likely and vaguely possible next (for which read current) chancellors are pinning their colours to the mast of Economic Growth, for which they have investment and/or tax-cutting plans; I think. The more philosophical??question is whether that should be everyone’s goal. Economic growth is not the way to solve all problems, and its problem is that it often sounds great for everyone but actually benefits but a few; often those who need it least. The low interest rates we enjoyed for over ten years should certainly have stimulated quite a bit of growth. They did, but, along with QE (Quantative Easing, another lengthy article in its own right), only served, I’d say, to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. We could do without more of the same; is taxing and spending really such a bad thing, as long as the spending actually happens?

“Worry for profession as young adviser numbers plummet”

There are around 31,000 advisers currently authorised by the FCA to give advice. Of these only around 6% are under 30 and 84% of all advisers are male. There are 209,000 solicitors, 7,000 young ones enter the profession each year and 52% of all solicitors are now female. The reasons are reasonably obvious; there hasn’t been and still isn’t a clear way into doing what we do, and many, especially those who could or should choose it as a career, aren’t clear about what it is that we do actually do. So I guess there’s a need to educate before we can start to educate, to get the message out that our work is and should be valued. If we’re doing our job properly we’re there for the long term, not just when someone dies or you want to move house or sue your neighbours. And maybe that’s the difference. I’m sure we’ve met many a doctor, solicitor and accountant with no bedside manner or ability to explain complicated stuff in anything approaching layman’s language. As having a financial adviser is still largely voluntary, you can’t get far without some pretty well-developed ‘soft skills’; which take time, for many, to develop and which I’d say, without wishing to gender-stereotype, come more naturally to the female of the species.

I love a French film, as the best tick many of my ‘quirky Britflick’ boxes in, of course a very Gallic way. Jeanne is single, thirty-something, living in Paris and running a successful eco-recycling project which goes spectacularly wrong on national TV and leaves her broke. Her Mum in Lisbon jumps off a bridge and Jeanne heads off to the city and flat in which she grew up to sort things out and save herself from bankruptcy. I know it doesn’t sound like a comedy so far, but it really is. Jeanne’s self-doubting cartoon thought-bubbles run throughout (my non-francophile other half found this very annoying; I laughed). She meets a dodgy, wacky old schoolfriend who’s still in love with her and her Mum’s ghost makes frequent appearances in the flat. The only English spoken is by a chain-smoking ex-pat Lisbon estate agent and the whole thing doesn’t so much end as leave you with a smile, a shrug and a still-smoking Gauloise in the ashtray (kids etc.). Charming, fun and stylish, I’d say and well worth your Prime time.