The decision by the Irish Financial Services Regulatory Authority (IFSRA) to look into the banks' failure to pass on the benefits of interest rate cuts has not been met with untrammelled joy by the investment community.

AIB-owned Goodbody Stockbrokers was particularly trenchant in its criticism.

"Given that all the quoted banks are currently experiencing revenue growth pressure from the low interest rate environment. . . we see this as further unnecessary regulatory intervention in the market," opined analyst Mr Len Riddle in the broker's morning commentary yesterday.

Over at Bank of Ireland-owned Davy Stockbrokers, a rather more moderate tone was adopted by Mr Scott Rankin.

"Regulatory risk in the Irish bank sector is gradually rising," wrote Mr Rankin in Davy's morning note, before musing that the banks were perhaps just one of a number of targets the Government was lashing out at in attempt to do something about inflation.

Judging from this reaction, you would suspect that what the IFSRA is contemplating is a plan to nationalise the banks or impose a tax rate that is in line with European norms. In reality, all that is being contemplated is yet another study that will then feed into a wider study on banking by the Competition Authority due later in the year.

It is far from certain that any action will be taken on foot of that report, or even that anything substantial is feasible.

Still the banks must be feeling more than a little vulnerable. One can't help feeling that "regulatory risk" is code for a better deal for customers.

IKea's Irish drama grabs the headlines yet again:

Current Account is becoming a little tired of the phoney "will they, won't they" theatrics surrounding Ikea's possible arrival on Irish shores.

The latest despatch in the flat-pack saga came last week when it was reported that the firm had finally selected the location for its long-awaited first Irish store: Banbridge in Co Down.

On the face of it, the news made sense. Banbridge would be sufficiently close to the Border to allow hungry southerners to satisfy their desire for sleek Swedish design but would allow Ikea to avoid the hassle of the Republic's planning system. Also, the town's new business park would have been capable of supplying the company with the space it might need.

The story was so flawless that Current Account was just preparing to hire its own Hiace van for an exciting trip North. Unfortunately, however, the Banbridge tale has since been proved to be yet another dead end in the Ikea/Ireland drama.

A nice lady at Ikea's British office tells us there is "no plan for a store on that site", adding that it is still "monitoring" the situation. In other words, nothing has changed since the firm last grabbed the Irish headlines. Sensing the by-now familiar deflation on the other end of the phone, she assured us that the company was more than cognisant of the Irish appetite for its goods.

Presumably this demand is based on the quality and style for which Ikea's products are famed in the 22 countries lucky enough to have a furniture hyperstore of their own. It must also be true, however, that more useful publicity is generated each time the whereabouts of a new store is mooted, whether the story is true or not.

By the time Ikea gets to Ireland, which it most surely will, the twists and turns surrounding its plans will have generated more trade than an advertising campaign ever could.

Missing the Melia factor:

It hasn't taken MSL long to get over the Kevin Melia factor. The Irish entrepreneur founded Manufacturers Services Ltd in 1994, taking it public in New York in 2000. During his tenure as chairman and chief executive, MSL announced plans to make Ireland its European headquarters employing 1,000 people in Galway and Athlone.

Now, however, the US-based group seems happy to do without at least one of its Irish operations since the departure of Melia at the beginning of this year. As the 200 full-time and 70 contract staff in Athlone consider their future, their 250 colleagues in Galway may well be assessing their own future in the absence of an Irishman to champion their cause.