Mr Chairman, Lawrence Mlotshwa; Mr President, Tom Boardman; Chief Executive Officer, Mr Mnisi; fellows of the Institute of Bankers, ladies and gentlemen, I wish to start my address by thanking the Institute for its invitation to me to be the keynote speaker tonight. Having last been invited to attend, let alone to speak on this occasion, almost ten years ago, I am somewhat anxious: for I am not sure about, I don’t know with any certainty, the reasons for your gracious invitation. That said, I must also indicate that I assume that I have not breached the order of precedence of your organisation and hasten to declare that I proceed on the basis that all protocol has been observed.The Institute of Bankers (IOB) in South Africa (SA)The IOB is, I have been told, a world-wide association of bankers which meets biennially with the objective of providing education to the industry. In South Africa, this association has a history which dates back to 1904 and, through its use of heraldry establishes a link between past and present notions of precedence, excellence, discipline and service. “Finis coronat opus” states the logotype – in free translation, “the end crowns the work”.Two stories may, I think, usefully be told in support of my assertion: the link between past and present. The first goes as follows:Once upon a time, in the 1970’s, a young man secured a holiday job with a branch of a major banking institution in a small country. In that country, most people knew or knew of each other.Being known to be bright, keen and energetic, the young man received neither training nor education from the managers of this branch of the major banking institution. Instead, they directed him to the “Waste Department” of the branch and advised him to “work hard”.On his first day on the job the young man – who was known to bright, keen and energetic – watched in wonder as clients conducted their banking business; deposits, withdrawals, investments. And keenly observed the flow of vouchers and chits: pink or red for debits; green or blue for credits.As the banking day drew to a close, a veritable flood of vouchers descended on the “Waste Department”. And our hero – who was known to be bright, keen and energetic set to work. Shred the red ones he thought; save the green ones. This, after all, is the “Waste Department” of a major banking institution.At approximately 2:45 p.m. that day, Nelly, the mentor arrived to assist our hero: he who was known to be bright, keen and energetic. She said: “We must now balance the total of the debits and the total of the credits in the accounts of the depositors … And the investors ….”He looked, with horror, at the pile of shredded pink chits in the waste-bin:“file 13”; Nelly had said before leaving. He looked again at the sign above him: it still read “Waste Department”; and he left – never to return.Now, had I been trained as a banker, this would never have happened. I would have known what was expected of the “Waste Department”, independently of Nelly who wouldn’t have mattered.But I would not have been able to laugh as loudly as I did when, thirty something years later, I received a letter from the said bank stating that: We must conclude that your account was closed in the ordinary course of business…” They don’t know what I know!The South African banking industry needs an Institute of Bankers to protect its depositors and its young from Nelly – the mentor; and from young people who are bright, keen and energetic but prone to improvisation when bored and unrestrained. The story of John Law : A second story The story about John Law, as told by Professor J.K. Galbraith¹ runs thus:Law, a Scotsman, arrived in France in 1716, in flight from a murder charge in England where he had been unduly successful in a duel. Having run through a considerable inheritance he had for some years made his living from gambling.In France, however, he was able to persuade the authorities to grant him – and his brother – the right to establish a bank with capital of 6 million livres or about 250 000 English pounds: banking being then