I made my first telephone call in the
1950s by turning a crank on a wooden telephone box. Some neighbors
on the party line always listened; in that small ranching community
of rural South Dakota, everybody knew everybody’s business.
Perhaps for that reason, most of us dealt honestly with each other.
We paid cash for what we needed, and yes, we sealed agreements with
a handshake.
Now that I own the family ranch, I continue
to operate, like my remaining neighbors, on the principles I
learned in childhood. All around me, realtors are selling former
ranches for home sites, basing their pitch partly on our
community’s values. I recently learned those values have
become extinct.
My education began after my partner bought
me a newfangled cell phone for emergencies, since I often drive to
the ranch alone. After a year, even though we switched the phone to
my name, the bills kept coming in addressed to him. I kept
complaining, and the company kept promising the contract would be
changed.
Then came a letter from the company saying I was
not a good risk because I have a poor credit rating. Shocked, I
protested: I have no debts; in fact, I have never used a credit
card. An independent Westerner, I’ve always believed my
finances were my business. I buy what I can afford and always with
cash. My honesty and integrity are my bond.
During the
past three years, I’ve learned that my integrity counts for
nothing in the mostly urban New Credit World. Paying cash and
sealing deals with handshakes leave no “paper trail” for snoopers
who make money by selling information. To my dismay, I also
discovered that the reports I obtained from the major
credit-reporting agencies contained incorrect information.
Repeatedly I documented who I am, and where and how I have lived
for fifty-some years, furnishing copies of documents that should be
private. Though I could prove I have no debts, my credit rating
remained poor.
In a world where information can be sold
and everyone suspects everyone, my actions seem devious. The only
way to get a credit rating is to buy on credit, something I resist
after watching friends–and the nation — slide easily into
debt. I acquired — and promptly paid–new bills from the dentist
who repaired the damage I did by grinding my teeth in
fury.
But I am not alone. Right now, credit-reporting
agencies are collecting information on you, and selling it to
companies with which you do business. If you act on your right to
keep these companies from acquiring information, they record that
as a really devious act.
After years of avoiding and
cursing these companies, I’ll admit they have improved; they
now provide information about consumer rights –because laws force
them to do so. But Westerners who rely on honesty and cash will
have no credit rating, and thus no power, as long as businesses
regard consuming with credit as necessary to financial
stability.
I believe choosing to buy with cash is my
right. But honesty isn’t enough for credit-reporting
agencies. If you don’t borrow money or buy on time, you
can’t be normal, and you don’t have a credit rating. I
also arouse suspicions through other choices I thought were
personal. Because I write at home, my telephone number is unlisted,
as is my street address. Such privacy is not the Credit World Way.
Some transactions–buying airline tickets, renting cars and motel
rooms—are easier with a credit card, so I do have a debit
card on my checking account. That’s another questionable fact
in my dossier of wrong moves.
Information is power.
Westerners who believe it’s our right to pay in cash and keep
our business private owe it to ourselves to protect our right to be
fiscally ornery. Be informed. Learn what credit reporting agencies
know about you, and protest if that information is wrong. Protest
the way credit ratings are figured.
If we don’t pay
attention, country values will be as outmoded as that crank
telephone, and integrity won’t get you in the door without a
credit card.. Contacting one credit reporting agency will lead you
to others; you might start with Equifax Credit Information
Services, Inc., P.O. Box 740241, Atlanta GA 30374;1-800-685-1111;
www.equifax.com.
Linda M. Hasselstrom is a
contributor to Writers on the Range, a service of High Country News
in Paonia, Colorado (hcn.org). She divides her time between a ranch
near Hermosa, South Dakota, and Cheyenne,
Wyoming.
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