My monthly rant about life, the universe, and everything in it

The Column #19
Release Date:
6th January 2005
Synopsis: The problems I encountered when attempting to insure a car.
Apparently there is a secret rule observed by all car insurance companies which states that it is their duty to confuse, abuse and refuse (to offer any logic to) the very people who keep them in business. I recently made the mistake of attempting to deal with these sacrilegious cretins, these bastions of bull who pretend they want to help you when their real agenda is far, far different. The result was unrewarding and extremely frustrating; a long drawn out process involving the loss of several valuable strands of my hair.
I decided to change my car in late November last year, and as such had to contact my insurance company to find out what difference this would make to the cost of my policy. My first mistake was thinking it would all be quite straightforward, and thus did not prepare myself for what was to unfold. My second (and far more significant) mistake was to assume that it would be possible to conduct such business in a polite formal manner over the telephone, a quick five-minute chat to reach a mutually satisfactory agreement.
Having dialled the number and listened to numerous empty apologies for being kept waiting, along with a handful of assurances that my call is important, I find myself connected to a disillusioned law-graduate-type who can barely churn out the corporate greeting, and so the game begins. As the conversation progresses it becomes clear that the switchboard light is on but nobody is home; the outcome is that the cheapest option for me is to cancel my existing policy (actual words used by the employee) and start a new one from scratch via the internet. It is much cheaper to deal with the company over the internet as opposed to the telephone, even though we were already chatting and they have all my details on file.
By hanging up on this misanthropist and applying online I saved £150 on an identical policy, with the same vehicle, with the same company. I appreciate that administration costs are to be taken into account for any policy, but I do question the technique used by insurers to calculate premiums, and am perplexed by the vast difference from one company to another. I have personally found a difference of over £1000 between firms when asking for comparative quotes in the past, which is quite a tidy sum to save.
The trouble did not end here though, as I then attempted to cancel my old policy by posting back the certificate of insurance stapled to a signed covering letter, explaining the above situation in a concise and concerned manner. Having not heard from them in two weeks, I once again lifted the receiver and made my way through the numerous options menus to speak to a far more willing specimen. It turns out they had received my covering letter but not the certificate that was physically stapled to it in the same envelope, and so had decided not to inform me of this problem, instead assuming that I would call them at some point. I seemed to recall being told I was a valued customer by the automated telephone queuing system only moments before, although that could have just have been the voices in my head. Having established that there was a mix up, we came to the conclusion that they would post me a form to sign and return, stating that I wished to cancel the policy (essentially the same as the original signed covering letter I sent which stated that I wished to cancel the policy) and so I duly obliged, seeing what could only be described as a flicker of light at the end of a long polluted tunnel.
Having emerged from this month long debacle with my wits intact, I took leave of my senses and pretended it was all over. I was living a lie right up to the arrival last week of a new letter, this time asking me to provide proof of my no-claims-bonus from my previous insurer in ten days time, or else face a penalty. Within mere seconds of reading the letter I resembled Popeye jacked-up on spinach; every muscle was bulging as I stabbed the numbers into the receiver knowing that I had to make yet another agonising call to these infidels. This was the final straw for me, as they were the ones who awarded me a no-claims-bonus and yet I had to ring them to explain this; their numerous computers and operatives were unable to process such a simple piece of information on my behalf.
I readily await the arrival of a new letter next week with some new unforeseen problem for me to solve, and can only recommend that you never even contemplate changing insurer or worse still your car, it is more than any reasonable citizen deserves to suffer. These companies know that we have to insure our cars by law, and as such they seem to take very poor care of their customers, blaming any price hikes on young male drivers who apparently treat the road like a racetrack. We are mere statistics in their eyes, something to be included in the annual report when they announce that 45 year-old female secretaries called Maureen who fancy Jamie Oliver and drive a Japanese car are the lowest risk drivers.