When one is watching rugby in a pub, with a frothy Amstel, while awaiting a wood-fired pizza, you occasionally see adverts spin across the Supersport screen for Cambist. Cambist offers you a 19.5% return on your money, and is generally responsible for this type of obscenity:
So what is Cambist?
Cambist is an online platform, that allows you to buy someone else’s debt contract.
To explain that, let’s step back a moment and start this story at the very beginning.
The World Of Micro-Credit
Meet Xolani, a hypothetical platinum miner and a hypothetical member of AMCU. Freshly excited by the end of the strike, and the new rise in his salary, he decides that the time is right to go and purchase a new flat screen TV. So he approaches Makro for financing, only to discover that Makro does not offer financing to platinum miners without a lot of contracts and proofs and collaterals.
Undeterred, he approaches a micro-lending institution (let’s call it “Bridge Loans”), and asks for a R4,000 loan to buy a flatscreen TV. They happily grant his request after getting some particulars about his employer, charge him a fat loan origination fee, and Xolani walks away with R4,000 and a three month R4,500* loan commitment at 5% per month.
*including the loan origination fee.
As it turns out, Xolani failed to realise that he would only be taking home R10,500 per month in three years’ time. So when he got his first paycheck after his return to work, and saw that the amount was lower than expected, he tried to forget that he had ever made that foolish decision to buy that flatscreen.
Bridge Loans duly noted that Xolani had not paid his first instalment. And after allowing the debts to accrue and the interest to compound for some months, they handed his debt contract over to a debt collector (let’s call them OneLaw).
OneLaw spent some time trying to call Xolani in order to discuss a repayment plan. Xolani, however, was still trying to forget about his flatscreen – and took it upon himself to ignore any and all calls that might remind him of it. Meanwhile, the debts and the interest continued to wrack up, subject to those limits in the National Credit Act (limits of ±60% interest per year, I might add).
Exasperated, OneLaw eventually handed the debt over to a law firm (let’s call them “Flemix and Associates”), and asked them to initiate legal proceedings against Xolani. An industrious attorney at Flemix quickly obtained an Emolument Attachment Order (affectionately known as a “garnishee order”) from a local magistrate, and sent it to Xolani’s employer. The garnishee order imposed a repayment plan on Xolani, and instructed the employer to deduct it from his paycheck directly.
Xolani’s employer is now sending Flemix and Associates a stream of income out of Xolani’s paycheck. That income then gets paid back to OneLaw (less a commission), who then on-pay it to Bridge (less a further commission).
The trouble is – now that R4,500 loan has grown into a R18,000 loan (and upwards, what with all the compounding and penalties), it’s going to take an awfully long while for everything to get repaid. Even if that process if fairly safe now that it’s an employer-deduction from the payroll – that doesn’t help the timing.
In the meanwhile, Flemix, OneLaw and Bridge are all big receivables and no cash.
Enter: Cambist
So the various people at Flemix, OneLaw and Bridge put their heads together and ask themselves: “How do we make this less of a cash-flow crisis?”
#IDEA
“Let’s securitise the debt! Or, rather, let’s see if we can sell this debt to someone in such a way that we don’t have to register as a Financial Services Provider or as a Credit Provider or any such regulatory onerousness. But think of all the free cash that’s sitting with the general public and, in particular, retirees who are looking for a fairly safe investment? We want the money – they want somewhere to put the money for a time. Let’s sell it!”
And, well, that’s where the online platform came from. You can go onto Cambist, and purchase a debt contract that’s secured by:
- A garnishee order; and
- Some kind of trust arrangement* (?)
*Seems like there is a trust that holds these debt contracts in reserve, and if for some reason your particular debt contract stops performing (ie. your Xolani stops paying because he got fired), then you can return it to the trust and exchange it for a performing one.
And to be honest, on the face of it, it sounds like a properly sensible business idea.
Sure – it’s a little scummy with the 60% interest rate being charged to the low-income workers, and the obnoxious size of the loans now that they’ve compounded – but that’s an ethical issue, not a financial one.
That said – I am particularly suspicious of a trust arrangement that basically guarantees the debt.
Because why?
So I gave it more thought, and did more research, and of course there is some Cambist scandal.
What is all the scandal around Cambist?
Moneyweb has a few articles laden with rhetoric on this particular issue. Their main gripe: Bridge, OneLaw, Flemix and Cambist are all basically the same person.
An excellent infographic:
And almost all the Moneyweb articles (here and here) make some kind of complaint along these lines:
- “this is so unethical”
- “the abuse is widespread”
- “oh the abuse”
- “look at these interest rates”
- “oh the abuse”
- <insert heavy insinuations of wrongdoing here>
To which Mr Aldum gave a fairly stinging response (see here), which consisted mostly of:
- this is all very defamatory
- there is no “very cruel circle of lending and collections” – this was actually just a natural progression of business. You see, we started doing some micro-lending; this grew into Bridge; then we realised that we needed debt-collectors, so we formed a separate debt collection agency (OneLaw); then we wanted lawyers, so we found some (Flemix); then we needed to free up some cash flow, so we started Cambist. Initially, there was a strong connection – there is still a connection today, just less of one. We’re honest businessmen serving a need.
- We really don’t do that many garnishee orders.
- In fact, in the national statistics, the number of garnishee orders have actually come down over time.
- If you think we’re abusing the system, show us proof. Just give us the case numbers of 100 examples. We challenge you, you Moneyweb charlatans.
Some Thoughts
I think that Moneyweb and the various Cambist critics have entirely missed something here. They are harping on about the abuse of garnishee orders and the terrible awful hideous high interest rates.
And even if it is a bit gross – the business practice is legitimate and that’s all fine. But the real problem in my mind, and allow me to emphasize this:
MICROLENDERS MAKE MORE MONEY ON LOAN ORIGINATION FEES THAN THEY DO ON INTEREST.
If you go back to the post I wrote on payday loans some time back (Willy Wonga.com’s Choke-a-Lot Factory), you’ll notice that 72% of the total interest+fees came from the loan origination fee. And that’s because even high interest rates on low value loans don’t amount to that much actual cash – the real return in the business of microlending is the upfront origination fee that gets earned as Xolani (or whoever) signs his name on the line.
Which means that microlenders would like to give out as many loans as possible (not for the interest – but for the origination fees). They are only limited by the amount of cash-on-hand as to how much they can lend.
But Cambist – Cambist allows Bridge to monetise their outstandings (with your money). They can then take that money and make more loans, earning more origination fees (and, hey, also more interest!).
Let’s go back to my story
In fact, they could even go back to someone like Xolani, just before he gets handed over to OneLaw, and say to him:
“You know what, bud? This debt is out of control. Tell you what – let’s consolidate your debts into one big debt, at a lower rate of interest. Say, well, 50% instead of 60%. How’s that for reasonable? We’ll take an origination fee, obvs. But here is some money that we obtained from a nice girl called Nanette, a business developer in Pretoria that’s in the business of financial freedom, etc. We’re only paying her 19.5% for this money. Deal?”
Is this part of the plan?
I have no idea.
But I’m just observing that there is no need for Bridge/Cambist/OneLaw/whoever to break any laws here. They could make more than enough money simply by taking your money and turning it into more loans. And, like, they have a captured lending base with which to do it. Sure – it has the potential to create a giant unsecured lending bubble. But whatevs, right?
Again – I am just posing the hypothetical. And noting that the whole debt consolidation process does sound a lot like a Ponzi scheme (because if we’re talking financial schemes, why not include a Ponzi scheme, amirite?).
But ethical concerns aside, wouldn’t you at least consider doing it?
*sits back*
*waits for criticism*
Rolling Alpha posts opinions on finance, economics, and the corporate life in general. Follow me on Twitter @RollingAlpha, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/rollingalpha.
Comments
Kosta July 31, 2014 at 09:48
I’ve been giving this article some thought (great piece by the way). I think a lot of it comes down to the overall default rate, and how they compensate for that risk.
“You know what, bud? This debt is out of control. Tell you what – let’s consolidate your debts into one big debt, at a lower rate of interest. Say, well, 50% instead of 60%. How’s that for reasonable? We’ll take an origination fee, obvs. But here is some money that we obtained from a nice girl called Nanette, a business developer in Pretoria that’s in the business of financial freedom, etc. We’re only paying her 19.5% for this money. Deal?”
Take those quoted interest rates, divide them by 10, and that’s pretty much what a bank does. Except banks deal with much less risk and have better insurance / guarantees in place.
That aside, the whole idea behind Cambist sounds a bit like an attempt to bring factoring to the mass market.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Factoring_%28finance%29
I don’t see what’s so unethical about that, provided people know what they’re getting into (which I think is at the heart of the problem).
ReplyJayson July 31, 2014 at 11:44
Hi Kosta
I agree with you – there doesn’t seem to be too much that’s unethical about factoring debts. It makes good business sense. Or about consolidating debt – it also makes good sense.
But I think that there is a serious risk at play here – one that is easily open to abuse. And it’s why I’m fixated on origination fees – because they are so high relative to the interest, the microlender is incentivised by the volume of loans that he generates, not by their quality.
And by factorising the cash flows, what is left to stop endless consolidation from taking place? Example:
1. Here, take a loan.
2. Oh dear, you can’t pay it? Here, take another one to settle that one.
3. Yikes, again? Okay, here’s a third loan to pay loan number 2.
4. Hello! Yes, here’s number four to pay number three.
5. Etc.
You factorise the first loan. You then factorise the second loan, and use the proceeds to pay off the first loan. You factorise the third loan, and use it to pay off the second loan. And so on.
But each time, you take an origination fee.
Doesn’t that look and sound like a Ponzi scheme?
ReplyCheryl August 1, 2014 at 06:43
Hi Jayson,
I read your article carefully, and then your comment on the reply above above, and then also had a good think. I see what you mean about factoring and taking an initiation fee every time you do so, but wouldn’t this only work if a new person took out the loan (and of course defaulted) each time time.
Because if person A takes out loan 1 (let’s call him Xolani to minimise confusion :)), and defaults, I can’t think he would be offered more than one opportunity to consolidate his debt with a new origination fee and a new interest rate. Because if he defaults on the second loan, he clearly cannot pay his debts, regardless of lowered interest rates, extended repayment times, etc. A clever loan agency would sell that loan to a third party (of course another origination fee would apply), but unless the third party could successfully pay for it, their scheme would crumble.
Because three origination fees (Xolani x 2 and new person x 1), would not make up for the original amount owed, even if this process were repeated as per example above.
At some point, you would need someone in the financial position to repay the loan, to actually repay the loan.
Do you not think the Cambist platform is cutting out this back-and-forth of factoring and consolidation by selling the loan at the first instance of non-payment (which admittedly is a long process that eventually results in a garnishee order), to someone who pays cash for it and then becomes the new owner of Xolani’s debt? Because in this scenario, Xolani wouldn’t be allowed to consolidate his debt to repay it, because of the garnishee order in place. And getting a new loan to do so should not be possible, because of his now even further damaged credit record?
If the above is still possible, the rot lies with the lenders, not the rest of the chain trying to mop up the problem. Since you have read the credit act and I haven’t :), what does it say about micro-financers loaning money to people with existing garnishee orders against their names? If it says nothing, that might be a place to start.
As you said, the Cambists of the world are not acting illegally. It’s actually a clever way for debt owners to get their cash and move on (at a discounted rate for early “settlement”, said discount being the “profit” for the new debt owner as he earns it in monthly bits over time until Xolani finally pays his debt).
The trouble comes in when Xolani is allowed to repeatedly loan money (with whopper origination fees) when he is no longer creditworthy (regardless of who keeps granting him the loans).
What do you think?
ReplyJayson August 1, 2014 at 09:00
Hi Cheryl
Thanks so much for your comment. And I think it’s a really good question: “Why would anyone lend to someone that has already proven that they can’t repay their loans?”
So, first off, there’s nothing illegal about lending money to someone that has defaulted. There’s no law against it (as far as I know!), mainly because the law is like “Well, if you want to go and lose your money, then go ahead and lose it. Crazy – but feel free. Democracy. Ra ra.” Basically, the law relies on you to not be crazy and to not want to lose your money.
But let me try and explain why a lender might continue lending to someone that’s not creditworthy:
1. The microlender lends R10,000 to Xolani, and earns R500 in origination fees.
2. The microlender sees that Xolani is struggling to pay his debt.
3. The microlender says to Xolani – here is a new R12,000 loan to cover your original loan. We don’t like to see default rates on our books – it makes our financiers nervous (because, don’t forget, the microlenders are lending money, and that money needs to come from somewhere – namely, the financiers).
4. The microlender also coincidentally earns another R500 in origination fees.
4. The microlender sees that Xolani is struggling even more to pay off his debt.
5. The microlender says to Xolani – here is a new R15,000 loan to cover your original loan…default rates…nervous financiers…OMG look at this new R500 origination fee!
The debt has been rolled. Why? Once the first loan has been given out, the microlender has a vested interest in not allowing the debt to default (even if that default is already happening in practice). Because microlenders are run by people – people who are incentivised based on profits (from origination fees) and default rates (less default = good job and/or you get to keep your job).
Of course, it’s likely that, at some point, the financier of the operation is going to be saying “Guys – you can’t be doing that. That’s my money – you’re eating away at it through origination fees AND you’re giving more money to a dud debtor!” But factorising keeps the financiers happy – because they get to recover their capital pretty quickly (recall that selling the loans at a discount does not mean “at a loss” – it just means “I’ll earn less interest – I’m leaving some ‘cream’ for you, oh buyer of this debt”).
So factorising means that the financiers can make loans, earn origination fees and interest on the good ones, sell the bad ones (or the slow-recovery ones) to other people in order to recover their money, and then go on the hunt for new loans (and new origination fees).
But factorising also means that the microlenders have a clear incentive to do lots of consolidation before they sell the loan off. I mean, in that example above, if you were the microlender, would you:
1. Factorise after the first consolidation, when the loan is worth R12,000 and you’ve only earned R1,000 in origination fees? Or
2. Factorise after the second consolidation, when the loan is worth R15,000 and you’ve earned R1,500 in origination fees?
Without factorising, the microlender might only consolidate once, and then get a garnishee order because there’s a limit to the cash flow. But the minute you step into the factorising space, there is no longer than cash flow restraint.
I agree on your last point – that’s exactly where the trouble is.
But the other “trouble” is that point you made about needing someone to eventually repay the loan. I would rather say: “You need someone to eventually repay the loan, or else someone takes a loss.” Who is that someone? The person holding the debt (all those investors in the platform).
Provided that the growth in the loan book and the growth in the investor base keep pace with each other – there should always be sufficient cash flow to keep everyone thinking that things are going fine. But what happens when investors stop investing?
Just to reiterate – I have no idea if that’s what is happening here. But I think that there are some deeply problematic incentives at play.
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