Turned down: The credit card junk mail

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Bill Virgin

Turned down: The credit card junk mail

Wednesday, June 20, 2001

By BILL VIRGIN
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER COLUMNIST

I thought I didn't like credit card solicitations.

You, however ... you REALLY don't like credit card solicitations.

And after last week's ruminations in this space about the volume of credit card junk mail, you took the time to write and attest to the deep and abiding loathing you have for the credit card merchants.

It is not just because of the sheer volume of wasted paper that the credit card peddlers earn your enmity, or even the risk they put you at (should someone intercept one of the pre-approved applications and try an identity theft). One reader told me about credit card solicitations that come addressed to his wife -- even though she died four years ago. Continuing calls to the issuer have not succeeded in getting her name off the mailing list.

Some of you grumble. One of you said that at least all the junk mail "helps justify the money we spent on a shredder." Another reader uses the paper as fire starters for a wood-burning stove. And more than a few of you fight back with a weapon the credit card companies themselves provide -- the prepaid-postage reply envelope.

"For the last five years I have been mailing their information back to them in their ... free envelopes," a reader wrote by e-mail. "This does two things: 1. Less paper for me to recycle as their company has to do it. 2. It helps the Postal Service increase their revenue. If everyone did this the Postal Service would have a dramatic increase in revenue."

Readers have invented a few variations to this game. One writes "NO! NO! NO!" in red felt-tip pen all over the application. Another throws mail solicitations for home siding or windshield replacement into the credit card reply envelope and sends those back. Yet another sends back the letters and glossy ads from the credit card companies -- but he mixes them up so they don't necessarily go back to the company that sent them.

For some of you the reward of this sport is the knowledge that you have cost the credit card company money for costing you time and annoyance. "Our victories against the system are small but satisfying," you said.

And one of you suggested that you were actually doing the economy a favor by sending the reply envelopes back to the credit card companies. As you explained it, the credit card company has to hire someone to open the envelope to see there's nothing inside, thus reducing unemployment.

But the number of you who said you wanted to extract some financial revenge, however slight, by using postage-paid reply envelopes sparked a lingering suspicion that maybe this was just an urban legend, that in fact it didn't matter to the credit card companies whether you sent one or 1 million envelopes back.

So I checked. And whaddya know, it does make a difference. Here is how business reply mail works, as described by local U.S. Postal Service spokesman Ernie Swanson. Businesses apply to use the system and, if approved, pay an annual fee of $125 (the envelopes or cards they use have to meet certain criteria, including the placement of the address, dimensions and bar codes).

When the postage-paid envelopes are sent in, the mail is separated and counted. Each piece carries a charge for first-class postage (34 cents) and a handling fee (35 cents).

But even that cost may not mean much to credit card companies. If they're not deterred by low response rates and by rising delinquencies among those who do respond, are a few envelopes stuffed with windshield replacement ads going to make a difference? Apparently not, when compared with the annual fees and interest cardholders pay, as well as the fees merchants pay to the credit card banks.

One reader who plays the reply-envelope game acknowledges that it probably doesn't make much difference to them: "They are similar to phone solicitors; they would not continue if the ads did not work." He concluded by paraphrasing H.L. Mencken: "No one ever went broke by underestimating the taste of the American public."

But there is one slightly more effective tool for making the credit card companies go away, which is detailed in a handy brochure from the King County Solid Waste Division called "How to Reduce Junk Mail" (you can find it online at dnr.metrokc.gov/swd/WASTERED/junkprevent.htm).

By calling a toll-free number, 1-888-5-OPTOUT, you can remove your name from lists compiled by the credit bureaus for use by credit card companies (federal law requires this).

This won't solve the broader problems of consumer credit card debt, but it might reduce the irritating clutter in your mailbox.

Of course, if you really enjoy tweaking the credit card companies as much as you really hate getting those solicitations in the first place, far be it from me to stand in the way of your entertainment.

P-I reporter Bill Virgin can be reached at 206-448-8319 or billvirgin@seattlepi.com. His column appears Mondays and Wednesdays.

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