Buckle up my friends, because this isn’t some polished press release or a glossy annual report designed to lull you into complacency. This is the unvarnished truth about Bank of Montreal – BMO to its pals in the boardrooms – a financial behemoth that’s been knee-deep in muck for decades, screwing over customers, regulators, and the planet alike. We’re talking about a bank that’s Canada’s oldest, founded back in 1817, but age hasn’t brought wisdom; it’s bred arrogance and a penchant for cutting corners that would make a street hustler blush. From fraud-riddled trading desks to financing environmental wreckers, BMO’s rap sheet reads like a litany of corporate sins, each one more infuriating than the last. And don’t get me started on one of their greatest badges of dishonour: sinking millions into Cummins Inc., a company notorious for its emissions-cheating antics. It’s enough to make you spit out your coffee in rage. These bastards parade as pillars of stability, but behind the façade, and you’ll find a machine oiled by deceit and disregard for anything but the bottom line.

The Gas Trader’s Grift: A Billion-Dollar Blunder

Picture this: it’s 2008, the world economy is teetering on the edge of the abyss, and what does BMO do? They harbour a rogue trader named David P. Lee, who allegedly cooks the books on their natural gas options to pad his own pockets. This wasn’t some minor glitch; it was a deliberate scam that allegedly inflated his bonuses while saddling the bank with losses estimated at a staggering $850 million. Lee faced charges from the U.S. Commodity Futures Trading Commission for fraud, mis-marking positions, and outright lying about values. He pleaded guilty to wire fraud, conspiracy, falsifying bank entries, and obstruction of justice – a cocktail of crimes that screams incompetence at the top. BMO’s oversight? Laughable at best, criminal at worst. How the hell does a major bank let one guy wield that much unchecked power? It’s a damning indictment of their risk controls, or lack thereof, and it left shareholders holding the bag while executives probably shrugged it off over martinis.

Fast forward, and Lee’s saga drags on with more guilty pleas in 2015. The fallout? BMO’s reputation takes a hit, but do they learn? Hell no. This episode exposes the bank’s underbelly – a place where greed trumps governance, and the little guy pays the price.

Inherited Poison: The Petters Ponzi Debacle

When BMO scooped up Marshall & Ilsley Bank in 2011, they didn’t just acquire assets; they inherited a steaming pile of liabilities tied to one of the biggest Ponzi schemes in U.S. history. Tom Petters’ $3.7 billion fraud empire allegedly thrived with help from BMO Harris – the rebranded subsidiary – which supposedly turned a blind eye to red flags screaming “fraud.” Lawsuits flew, seeking up to $24 billion in damages, accusing the bank of aiding and abetting the scam. In 2022, a jury slapped them with a $564 million liability verdict, prompting BMO to book an $834 million charge. Sure, the Eighth Circuit Court reversed it in 2024, and a related $1.1 billion judgment got tossed in 2025, but that doesn’t erase the stench. They still coughed up $10 million in 2018 to settle separate fraud claims from the acquisition.

This mess allegedly involved ignoring suspicious transactions that any half-decent compliance team should have flagged. It’s classic corporate hubris: buy cheap, ignore the skeletons, and hope the courts bail you out. Meanwhile, victims of Petters’ scheme – real people who lost life savings – get shortchanged. BMO’s defence? Procedural wins that sidestep the core rot – sorry, the core decay – of ethical lapses. Infuriating doesn’t cover it; it’s a slap in the face to anyone who believes banks should operate with a shred of integrity.

Fee Gouging and Data Disasters: Screwing the Everyday Customer

BMO’s contempt for the average Joe shines through in their overdraft shenanigans. In 2013, BMO Harris settled for $9.4 million over claims they manipulated debit card transactions to maximise overdraft fees, hitting vulnerable customers hardest. Allegedly, they’d reorder transactions from largest to smallest, triggering multiple fees instead of one. It’s a predatory tactic that’s as old as banking itself, but no less enraging. The bank eventually ditched non-sufficient funds fees, but only after the damage was done and public outcry mounted.

Then there’s the 2018 data breach: hackers breached systems, swiping personal info from 50,000 customers and demanding a $1 million ransom. BMO’s cybersecurity? Apparently as robust as a wet paper bag. Customers left exposed, identities at risk – all because a multi-billion-dollar institution couldn’t secure its damn servers. Add to that a 2018 class-action accusing BMO and other Canadian banks of rigging the Canadian Dealer Offered Rate (CDOR) to inflate derivative profits. Allegedly, this conspiracy jacked up costs for investors and borrowers alike. Regulators sniffed around, but settlements often let these giants off with a wrist-slap fine that barely dents their profits.

And let’s not forget the 2024 fraud fiasco: around 140 customers claimed $1.5 million in losses from cybercriminals exploiting electronic transfer flaws. They’re gearing up for a class-action, blasting BMO for shoddy protections and liability caps that shift the burden onto victims. It’s a pattern – prioritise profits, skimp on safeguards, and leave the public to clean up the mess.

Regulatory Reckoning: Conflicts and Cover-Ups

BMO’s brushes with regulators read like a bad crime novel. In 2019, their Chicago units paid $38 million to the SEC for allegedly hiding conflicts of interest from municipal bond clients back in 2016. They prioritised their own gains over fiduciary duty, misleading issuers about underwriting roles. Fast-forward to 2025, and the SEC hits them again: a $40.6 million penalty for misleading investors on $3 billion in mortgage-backed bonds between 2020 and 2023. Allegedly, employees peddled false info, leading to a managing director’s dismissal. Supervision? Non-existent.

These aren’t isolated slips; they’re symptomatic of a culture where corners are cut for quick bucks. The bank’s response? Pay the fine, issue a bland statement, and carry on. It’s bullshit – pure, unadulterated bullshit – that lets executives evade personal accountability while the institution absorbs the hit as a cost of doing business.

Social Stains: Racism, Harassment, and Environmental Enablers

BMO’s human rights record is equally appalling. In 2020, Vancouver police handcuffed a 12-year-old First Nations girl and her grandfather at a branch over an ID mismatch flagged as fraud. The incident sparked protests and a human rights complaint, forcing BMO to apologise and pledge cultural sensitivity reforms. But apologies are cheap; this reeks of systemic bias in verification processes that disproportionately target Indigenous people.

Internally, things are no better. In 2024, an probe into BMO’s Toronto mining banking team uncovered allegations of bullying, harassment, and homophobic behaviour. Six bankers exited – four fired, two resigned – after tormenting a colleague. It’s a toxic workplace cesspool that highlights leadership failures in fostering decency.

On the environmental front, BMO’s been called out for financing JBS in 2022, a meatpacker linked to illegal Amazon deforestation on Indigenous lands. Indigenous leaders slammed them for enabling ecological devastation through loans and investments. And now, the Cummins connection: BMO holds about 417,000 shares in Cummins Inc., valued at roughly $137 million as of the latest filings. This isn’t pocket change; it’s a significant stake in a firm that agreed to a $1.675 billion penalty for installing emissions defeat devices on hundreds of thousands of engines, cheating clean air standards and pumping out excess pollution. Cummins’ actions allegedly contributed to health hazards and environmental harm, yet BMO’s happy to profit from it. It’s just another investor diving into the filthy ecosystem that TCAP is determined to lay bare, propping up polluters who value dividends over decency without a second thought.

The Bigger Picture: A Bank Unbowed and Unashamed

What ties all this together? A relentless pursuit of profit that tramples ethics, laws, and lives. BMO’s scandals span fraud, fees, breaches, biases, and environmental indifference, each one a testament to unchecked avarice. They’ve paid millions in settlements and fines – chump change for a bank with over $1 trillion in assets – but real change? Don’t hold your breath. Executives collect fat bonuses while the public foots the bill through higher fees, lost savings, or polluted air.

This isn’t capitalism; it’s predation. BMO embodies the worst of Big Banking: faceless, remorseless, and always one step ahead of accountability. If you’re a customer, investor, or just a citizen breathing the air they help foul, it’s time to demand better. Because if we don’t call out this crap, it’ll only get worse. Fuck that – we deserve institutions that serve, not exploit.

Lee Thompson – Founder, The Cummins Accountability Project

Shareholder Spotlight : Bank of Montreal – A Sewer of Scandals and Shameless Greed