Bankers' backlash

We recently had a falling-out over a used sofa worth less than £100. We had parked it at a friend's house and, five years later, asked for it back. In pre-crash days, both of us would have gone out and bought a new sofa, but here we were getting worked up over a beaten-up item that even eBay wouldn't accept. We have made up now but it just goes to show: things are tense out there.

With Citigroup in crisis talks, 60,000 jobs expected to go from the City during the recession and fortunes in some cases irrevocably overturned, all sorts of behaviour, much of it unpleasant, is being observed.

"It's a jungle out there," says architect Alfred Munkenbeck. "Former high-fliers are taking the attitude: 'If you want your bills paid, take it off me if you can'."

Meanwhile, charities that relied on bankers' very public show of hands now complain that they don't even answer emails. Show-off pledges in front of rich friends never materialise. One fundraiser told me that when she tried to collect "promises", her calls never got returned.

"Bankers now tell you before you even open your mouth that they're flat broke," says William Cash. At Action on Addiction's Angels' Ball in October, celebrity fundraisers such as Trinny Woodall got a frosty reception. "Few people were bidding," says a banker who was there. "It was quite awkward."

Abusive behaviour by hard-up bankers is now everyday stuff. "I've never seen anything like it," says a designer friend. Her City clients once never questioned her fees; now they haggle for hours.

"Many bankers are motivated by power," explains executive coach Jon Stokes, who works with FTSE 500 companies. "In any situation, they will find a way to laud it over another person."

Now that they feel powerless, they are finding new ways to flex their muscles. "They would rather be powerful and unloved than loved and powerless," he says.

An American financier recently boasted how he pulled the plug on a £2 million renovation. "Sue me," he told his architect when a large bill arrived for his services.

Some bankers once liked themselves too much. Now, as everyone eyes them with contempt, they think: "I might as well play the bastard part."

"In difficult times, two out of 10 people will rise to the occasion and show strength, three will come down with severe anxiety and the rest will change personality for the worse," says Piers Bishop, a therapist with MindFields College in Sussex, who recently conducted a self-esteem seminar.

Where clients once paid in instalments for bespoke items, they now ask to pay on delivery. This allows them to say, "I changed my mind" after the chandelier has been installed at great expense. Another trick is the "delay paying the bill" routine.

There are different types of City clients, says architect Simon Templeton, who is presently working with the Blairs, including "those who disappear. First thing you know is your emails bounce back. Then there are those who still insist on buying complex AV systems at the expense of the lead that is needed on the roof."

In some cases, bankers are behaving more than badly. When I got into a taxi last week, I noticed someone had left their keys. "I'll keep that as collateral," the taxi driver said. It turns out that the previous client was a female banker travelling from Canary Wharf to Chelsea. "She talked on the phone the whole journey, then jumped out without paying," he said.

Of course, not all bankers are behaving badly. I have friends who still employ their nanny, knowing she would be hard- pressed to get a new job. Financial difficulties make people do strange things but if someone was honourable two years ago, he will still be honourable. If he was disguising a nasty streak, though, there's no hiding it now.