Shouldn't banks work for us?
According to the distinguished journalist Alice Schroeder, Goldman Sachs bankers are buying handguns "to defend themselves if there is a populist uprising against the bank" (as per a hilarious article published on Bloomberg overnight).
If true, it's one of the more eccentric manifestations of the economic crisis caused - in part - by the excesses of those blessed bankers.
Since the UK is officially now the only G20 economy in recession, the UK has a particular interest in fixing the flaws in the financial system.
As it happens, another one of those not-so-popular investment banks, Morgan Stanley, fears the UK may pay one of the steepest amounts when the final bill arrives, because it says that markets are currently under-pricing the risk of a fiscal crisis in the UK next year - which would lead to "some domestic capital flight, severe pound weakness and a sell-off in UK government bonds".
So it's reasonable for most of us to mutter "never again".
And although the path to rehabilitation has been meandering and occasionally bogged down by tedious national jealousies and squabbles, we can be reasonably confident that our banks will emerge a bit better regulated and a bit more intrinsically robust (though it's far too early to pass judgement on whether the reforms will be all they might be).
That said, I suppose I am a little surprised by how little exasperation has been generated by one aspect of our version of capitalism that was found wanting (and how) - which is the non-trivial issue of how our companies are owned.
In a nutshell, the owners of our banks did nothing to prevent them from taking excessive risks - and, the self-justifying bankers moan, some owners actually encouraged them to lend and borrow more than was prudent relative to their capital resources.
What's been the official response?
Well a Treasury-commissioned review by Sir David Walker - which was published last week - recommended that a bit of pressure be applied to investment institutions to either sign up to a fairly undemanding set of governance principles or explain in public why they won't do so.
These precepts include revolutionary ideas such as "institutional investors should monitor their investee companies" (do you think it would be reasonable to ask for my money back, if my pension-fund manager would not commit to doing this?).
And overnight, the Financial Reporting Council (FRC) - which will be the steward of the new investors' code - announced plans to amend the existing governance code that for years has applied to the executive and non-executive directors of all listed companies.
These modifications will be seen, I would guess, as mostly sensible.
I particularly like the idea that all boards should every year state in simple plain English a short account of their respective companies' business models: viz how those companies make their wonga over the long term and what the big risks are.
Just possibly, if Royal Bank of Scotland's board had done that a couple of years ago it would perhaps have treated its depositors as its most valued customers rather than taking them hostage, by lending and investing far more than was safe (some 50 times capital resources).
Also, the FRC will probably be applauded for trying to shift the balance of boards' responsibilities from box-ticking and formal compliance to a proper appreciation of their responsibilities as the custodians of the wealth-generating machines that pay for our pensions and generate our tax revenues.
In that context, there may be merit in the FRC's suggestion that each company's chairman, or its whole board, should face re-election every year: the directors should then be under little illusion about who they work for?
Or will they?
Because the chain of ownership - from saver in a pension fund, to pension fund trustee, to investment manager, to non-executive - remains as long, disjointed and dysfunctional as ever.
Arguably we have as yet seen little in the way of actual or proposed reform that would give us confidence that companies will henceforth work rather more assiduously for the millions of us who are their ultimate owners, as contributors to pension funds and other collective investment pools.
Also, in the case of banks, there's a second intrinsic flaw in the ownership structure, which is the potentially devastating asymmetry between the limited liability to losses of a banks' shareholders and the unlimited liability of taxpayers as the rescuers of last resort.
Sir David Walker identified this asymmetry, which encourages banks to take bigger risks than are necessarily healthy for the economy because the liability of the owners is capped.
However it is moot whether he or the authorities more widely have yet done enough to address it.
Here is what should really give us pause for thought: it is our agents, the investment institutions, who have limited liability, but not us, the savers who provide them with the funds to manage; we pick up all the bills, both when the value of the bank shares in our pension funds are wiped out, and when we underwrite the rescue of said banks as taxpayers.
Which is why, some would say, it is particularly hideous that either individually or collectively we have very little direct influence on the behaviour of individual banks or the reconstruction of the banking system.