Chasing Kohli, by David Jesudason, illustration by Raj Dhunna

[Plus audio version]

Even when it feels really painful and sucky

I can’t remember if I told the story before, but in the Before Times™ I opened a trading account with CommSec, the public brokerage associated with Australia’s largest bank. Or I tried to, at least. After registering, I got an email welcoming me to CommSec, in which they referred to me by my full name. Except, it had a problem: Welcome, Ruben Middle Schade. Just in case it’s unclear, my middle name is not “middle”! I thought it might have been a mail merge issue, but I logged in and confirmed my name was listed as “Middle” everywhere. Likewise, every piece of correspondence in print and email referred to me as such. How did this happen? I had a few theories: I absent-mindedly wrote my name as “middle” on the signup form, which slipped through. A system internal to CommSec transcribed my name incorrectly. I have family and friends who work in finance, and it’s surprising how many manual processes are still involved. Cocaine’s a hell of a drug. Number (1) seemed more likely at first, so I was ready to blame myself. Except, there are systems that are supposed to catch such mistakes. Signing up to a new financial account in Australia requires 100 points of ID. These documents clearly, and unambiguously, refer to you by name. If I did write my name wrong, how did CommSec’s systems not flag this obvious discrepancy between that mistake and my real name, and immediately fail to activate the account? To be crystal clear, “Middle” wasn’t listed as my middle name on any of my provided documentation, yet their identity verification erroneously matched them, and proceeded to create the account. That’s… more than a bit worrying. I’d blame people using “AI” for this mistake in 2026, but they didn’t even have that as an excuse back then. So what about option (2)? How likely was it that I failed verification, but that my account was created in their system anyway? Or was it a transcription error? Again, I find both of these difficult to understand. As for option (3), I wouldn’t dare cast stereotypes about people who work in a specific industry. This was merely a joke, like listing someone’s middle name as “Middle”, then verifying it against documents where the person’s name isn’t “Middle”. That’d be funny. Fixing my name What proceeded felt like a comedy of errors. I enquired to CommSec asking if I could change my middle name to… my middle name. I expected this to be easy, because it was such an obvious mistake. That was on me. Their support team rejected my initial request, telling me I’d need to request a “change of name form”. I objected, because I wasn’t “changing” my name, I was correcting a mistake with my real name. But fine, I downloaded the form, completed it, and returned it with a cover letter explaining the bizarre situation. CommSec’s system denied the request, citing insufficient evidence for my name change. I wasn’t changing my name, I was fixing my name! GAH! I’ll admit at that point I lost interest, and went with another broker. This turned out to be a fateful decision, because I ended up paying much lower fees, and I got access to some foreign markets. The capital gains from these investments were instrumental in Clara and I buying our first home. So, thanks CommSec! I think? Closure Every month or so since, I’d receive a newsletter from CommSec advising me of market conditions, and new features I couldn’t use. This was quite funny. But it wasn’t to last: Dear Ruben, We are writing to let you know that your account(s) will be closed, as they have no holdings or balances and have not been used to transact for an extended period of time. These accounts may have been opened directly with CommSec, CommBank, or with one of the brokers CommSec has acquired. Please note that your account may be suspended prior to closure. As part of this account closure process and in accordance with ASX Settlement Operating Rule 7.1.11(a) and CommSec’s Terms and Conditions, we are also formally notifying you of the termination of your CHESS sponsorship agreement. Goodbye, Mr Middle, we hardly knew ye. By Ruben Schade in Sydney, 2026-11-02.

For as long as I can remember I would feel fatigued very easily. I was always exhausted, lying down a lot, and I disliked anything that required excess energy, like sports. I...