Maybe it’s a journalist thing. Follow the money, as they say.

Most of us, including most bankers, think of banking as taking deposits and lending them back out to borrowers. In some ways there is some truth to that idea, but it turns out if you follow the money all the way to its original source, 92% of money comes into existence as the result of a bank making a loan. So says a recent working paper co-authored by an economist at the Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia. Here’s the International Monetary Fund saying the same thing in 2016, the Bank of England in 2014, members of U.S. Congress in 1964, and economist Joseph Schumpeter (posthumously) in 1954.

So think about it this way: In 1985, there were 15,000 money-creating local institutions. They were — and still are — often deeply flawed. Nearly all of them were guilty of redlining at some point in their history if not still at the time. Remember, women couldn’t open a bank account or get a loan without a husband or male relative’s signature until 1974. But even with those flaws, each community bank functioned as a local fountain of money.

Is today’s consolidated banking system an effective substitute for the 11,000 community banks that no longer exist? The Paycheck Protection Program debacle powerfully demonstrated the shortcomings of today’s banking system, as big banks initially struggled to reach the smaller businesses that were most urgently in need at the start of the pandemic.

I don’t intend to wax too nostalgic about the community banks we’ve lost. Taking back the banking system must not look exactly as it did before. Lately there’s been another set of facts that grows larger and larger in my mind every day: Even after decades of consolidation, there are still 4,200 community banks out there. But how many community banks are also minority depository institutions, or MDIs, meaning they are owned or led by people of one or more racial minorities and primarily serve those communities? Just 122.

Simply put, across the entire country there are 4,078 community banks serving primarily white communities, while just 122 community banks serve primarily communities of color. Of course, it’s much more likely today than it was in decades past for white-owned community banks to do business with people of color, but recent research has revealed the continued starkness of the divide. Banks still tend to locate their branches in neighborhoods whose residents look like their leadership or ownership, according to a joint analysis by researchers at Johns Hopkins University and the National Bankers Association, a national trade association for MDIs. Any effort to take back the banking system for communities has to take it back for the country we are becoming, not the country we were.

So how many community banks do we need? I’m not sure that me or some policymaker or expert should be the one answering that question. Maybe it should be up to each community that feels ignored or frustrated with larger, distant financial institutions to take some of that money creation power for themselves and see how they do with it. I’ve been reporting on recent examples of communities taking that power for themselves.

My hope is for this book to help the people in those and future examples to feel connected and properly informed about what’s at stake and why efforts like these are so important to the future of our cities, this country, and the planet. Look out for it in your local bookstore (tentatively) in Fall 2024.