CIBC

How many clicks to find the privacy policy from the homepage?

Three clicks, and the first one is not about privacy. The footer link “Privacy and Security” lands on a page that is mostly fraud and scam content. From there “Privacy Policies” in the side navigation, then “Canada” on a regional selector, finally reaches the Client Privacy Policy. Three clicks scores 2.

Is there a meaningful choice about cookies and tracking before data is collected?

Fair buttons, everything behind them weighted. “Manage preferences” and “Accept all cookies” are both outlined, the same size and weight — genuine visual parity, and better than any other bank here. Then: no Reject All, and all four optional categories arrive switched on. And the banner claims agreement from doing nothing at all, in its own words, “By accepting cookies, continuing to browse the website, or exiting the website, you agree to this processing and sharing.” Leaving is counted as consent. The honest buttons and the dishonest sentence cancel out at 2.

How hard is the policy to read, how much of it is there, and can you get it in one piece?

Grade 12.8 across 11,437 words. Difficulty 1, length 0, access 2. No Canadian bank in this index publishes more: the Client Privacy Policy alone runs 8,747 words, more than TD’s whole policy, with the Digital Preferences Policy adding 2,690 on top. The writing is not the problem. Sentences average 14.1 words, the shortest of the five banks. There is simply an enormous amount of it, which is exactly what the length component exists to catch. Measure it yourself.

How many clicks to reach data settings, and can you delete your account yourself?

Sign on to correct, write in to ask. “If you want to update or correct any personal information we hold about you… You can also sign on to CIBC Online Banking® or call us at 1-800-465-2422” is a documented online route. Access is not: “You need to put your request in writing. We can give you a form… We’ll tell you if there is a fee to access your information.” Portability runs on written direction. Login-gated with no guest route, 2.

Find the support page. How many clicks, and is there a way to speak to a human?

A human, once you scroll past the robot. The Contact Us page opens with a chatbot and a push to sign in for “more personalized help”. Below that sit twenty-two toll-free numbers organized by category, every one a tappable link, none of them behind a login. Placed last, but plainly there.