Imagine this conversation:

You: I'd like a bar of soap, please.
Cashier: Sure. That'll be ten dollars.
You: Ten dollars for a bar of soap?
Cashier: It's very good soap.
You: Yes, but --
Cashier: Besides, you can afford it, can't you?
You: Sure, I can afford it today. But what happens when my cell phone bill comes in tomorrow and I find out my daughter's run four hours over our minutes?
Cashier: Oh, don't worry. It sounds pricey, but if it turns out you can't afford it, just give back the soap and we'll write it off.
You: Wait, you'll really do that?
Cashier: We promise. We have to. It's the law.

This is the the conversation every cardholder has with Visa. Credit's pricey. Sometimes it's so pricey you find out later you can't afford it. A million and a half families found this out last year.

To make up for it, Visa promises to forgive the debt if you're stuck with unexpected bills. True, bankruptcy laws force them to make this promise. But it's part of the deal from the start.

So what if, after the deal is done and you're giving Visa your money, they tear up the contract and rewrite the terms in their favor? You're stuck paying a high price for something worth a lot less.

In law school, we call that "breach of contract." Most people call it welching on a deal, not meeting your end of the bargain, or just plain breaking your promise.

It turns out that all the Hill debate about bankruptcy as promise-breaking wasn't far off. They just fingered the wrong suspect. Debtors weren't the ones breaking their promises. Debt forgiveness was part of the deal from the get-go.

The real promise-breakers were creditors, whose welching (leaving a hundred million families stuck paying the old, high prices for new, harsh terms) is now known as the Bankruptcy Bill of 2005.