A few days before the end of the Biden Administration, a particular event got me thinking. It was 11:40 am on a Friday when I arrived at my bank.
I will deposit a check, which I received as a result of a real estate sale. I also want to withdraw money, less than $2000, which I deposited long ago, from the same account, because I have some purchases in mind that I would prefer to make in cash – nothing illicit, illegal, or out of the ordinary.
Before the Noon Rush
When the bank line dwindles to one, I'm in front of a teller who cheerfully accepts my requests. Great, I've avoided the noon rush hour, as planned. I'll take care of business and be on my way. The teller dutifully deposits the real estate check.
Next comes the cash withdrawal, which I want to make based on money that I already deposited long ago. So it's not as if she has to wait for my huge check to clear.
The minutes start passing. She checks this. She checks that. A short line begins to form behind me. She asks me to sign a couple of things. Okay, fine. Now I'm thinking, all right, in a minute or two, I'll be out of here. Instead, she picks up the phone and dials someone in the bank.
Big Brother Speaks
She turns back to me and says that her supervisor wants to know what the money is for. I am flabbergasted. This is the United States of America, right? It's not the old Soviet Union or East Germany, or even modern-day Russia, China, Korea, Iran, Cuba, or any other extreme regime.
It is my account. I have had more than sufficient funds in the account for long enough to be able to withdraw the amount I have requested. When she tells me that her supervisor needs to know what the money is for, matter-of-factly and without hesitation, I say to her that it's none of his business. I do not raise my voice. I am not even perturbed.
For many reasons, I kind of expected the question. Prying has become a national sport. It is none of the banker manager's business. If I were a new customer or withdrawing a vast sum, it could raise hackles. I might understand, but none of this is occurring. I am a 31-year customer of this bank. Let that sink in.
She continues with a variety of administrative tasks for several more minutes. By now, a long line has formed behind me. The noon rush hour has arrived, and there will be no gracefuly departing the bank with the stash of cash that I've requested.
And What Do You Do, Comrade?
Incredibly, she asks what my profession is. In my many decades of consumer banking, I have never been asked this. I say to her, what has that got to do with anything? She responds, "I need to put it on this form." So I tell her, author, which I am. I have 68 published books and more than 5,000 published articles. What does my profession have to do with withdrawing money that I've had at this bank for years?
Now I’m concerned. Bureaucratic zealots increasingly are seeking to control everything. They want to know where every dime goes. Might it only be a matter of time before they raid bank accounts to cover for all the misspending they have allowed? I wouldn't put it past them.
Imagine for a moment that we switch completely to a digital currency. That would mean every time you ever spend any sum, for the rest of your life, it can be traced. That is nearly synonymous with knowing what you've been doing virtually every day for the rest of your life because our expenditures largely provide a map of our activities.
Diversify!
The survivalists likely are right: don't keep your money in only one bank anymore, especially if you live in New York or Minneapolis or some other Marxist-infested city. Employ two, three, or four banks. You won't know which bank might go belly-up first. You never know which one is going to submit to radical interests. Sure, bank regulations are largely within the federal domain. Still, if you can, convert some of your money into silver, gold, or platinum. Diamonds travel pretty well.
FYI: I am not being an alarmist. I'm being a realist, and it's time that we all were.