I don’t often swear on this blog. In fact I’ve made a conscious effort to keep things nice and polite in the main, but on this very special occasion I’d like to say this:
FUCK YOU MASTERCARD SECURECODE.
SERIOUSLY FUCK YOU, EAT SHIT AND DIE.
And Relax.
You might have gathered that I’ve added Mastercard’s SecureCode to my Christmas naughty list. You might also wonder why, and like any cantankerous pissed off old man I’ll tell you.
Now to set the scene: I have a credit card with Barclaycard. I’m not proud of that fact, but needs must when you’re a poor student. (Much to my disappointment it turns out that money really doesn’t grow on trees you see.) I bank with the Clydesdale Bank for reasons that are too convoluted and Ayrshire-ish to go into here.
Now I like to pay back as much as I can afford on the Barclaycard. As a result I’ve never seen the need to set up a direct debit with them, but I’ve always religiously paid by Switch/Maestro over the internet at the start of every month. Maybe not the best setup I suppose, but I’ve never yet forgotten to pay or had any problems with their site, well, until tonight that is. You see tonight I logged in as normal, and was in the process of paying off a chunk of my outstanding balance when I ran into a hurdle: Mastercard Securecode.
For anyone one not familiar with these things Securecode and it’s contemporary Verified by Visa are both touted as anti-fraud devices. Sort of a Chip and Pin for online shopping is how they describe themselves. The Register has raised a few doubts about these things in the past. Particularly how easy it is for scammers to reset the password with only minimal information (information they would need to use your account in the first place). The system does seem to provide a convenient way for the banks to quickly wash their hands of liability when it comes to unauthorised transactions on your account.
It turns out that both the Clydesdale Bank and Barclaycard are members of this system. The Barclaycard promptly pops up a form during the payment process demanding that I enter my Securecode to proceed with the transaction. Now I’ve seen Securecode once before on the H Samuel’s website about this time last year and I thought it was a one off anomaly akin to the other party online payment solutions you occasionally come across like Netbanx. I jumped through the hoops then because H Samuel’s website was the only place selling the thing I wanted to get my Mom for Christmas. One year later though I was left scratching my head wondering what the hell I had used as the Securecode. I clicked on the “forgotten your secure code” button and then the magic started. The system refused to accept my card number claiming that it wasn’t valid. Bullshit. I’d just used it that day to pay for some Christmas presents, and I’d triple checked it as I was typing it just on the off chance that I was going blind and/or mental. Naturally as any enraged idiot would I then proceeded to try and guess the code. Three wrong guesses later I was informed that my Securecode account for that card had been locked and I would have to check on the Clydedale Bank site to release it. So I checked the Clydesdale Bank site only to find that the halfwits didn’t have a single, solitary piece of information about what to do when a card gets locked out. I tried hard to articulate my displeasure at this discovery, but it mainly came out as “WHIIIITTT??! SUCK MA BAWS YOU BASTARDS.” Their sole piece of advice was to re-register the card with the Securecode service. Naturally when I tried the site just laughed in my face and told me that “The details supplied are invalid.”
The Barclaycard site won’t accept payment without the Securecode so I’m left in the position of being unable to pay the balance online. So now instead of a nice, simple couple of clicks I’m going to have to scramble about looking for statements and account details to pay over the phone.
OK I’ll admit that my problem might not be Mastercard’s fault. It could well be something to do with the way that the Clydesdale bank has set up their part of the process, but I can almost guarantee that I’ll be pushed from pillar to post while trying to sort it out. I’ll also freely admit that I’ve probably dug myself an even deeper hole by charging in and locking the account with my half arsed guesses, but I remain UNREPENTANT.
As an aside: McDowall has been buying stuff in cash of late, and I assumed it was because he’d joined the tinfoil hat brigade. After this debacle I think the man himself might have been displaying his usual degree of wily clairvoyance in abandoning out so called flexible friends.