Wall Street Law Firms Band Together To Complain About Judge Rakoff - And Are Ignored

Via the Am Law Daily, the Wall Street Journal had an article about an effort by Bank of America's lawyers — at Wachtell, Davis Polk, and Cleary Gottlieb — to keep Judge Jed Rakoff from presiding over a shareholder class action against them:

Bank of America Corp. tried to keep cases pending against it from landing with U.S. District Judge Jed Rakoff, in the hopes of avoiding another dramatic confrontation with the judge over the bank's handling of the Merrill Lynch & Co. takeover.

It got the outcome it wanted, though not necessarily thanks to its efforts.

The nation's largest bank by assets sent a letter on April 22 to U.S. District Judge Denny Chin—who was leaving to become an appeals-court judge—that asked that about 15 civil shareholder lawsuits pending before him be reassigned randomly and not handed to Judge Rakoff.

Judge Rakoff has been, shall we say, insufficiently deferential to the poor officers and directors at places like Bank of America. He famously rejected Bank of America's / Merrill Lynch's initial settlement with the Securities Exchange Commission over misleading proxy statements about the merger. He less-famously enjoined J.P. Morgan from selling a loan to Mexican telecommunication company's chief competitors.

You can imagine the talk on Wall Street. Who does this guy think he is? A judge?

So what can they do when there's a chance he might end up hearing another case against a big bank?

Normally, the last thing a lawyer will do is complain about a judge.

In one respect, lawyers complain about judges all the time. Every time a lawyer appeals a case, they complain about the judge's ruling, which was wrong because of (a), (b), (c) and (d). (Don't go beyond (d). Going beyond (d) is the kiss of death.) Sometimes a lawyer complains right to a judge's face through a motion for reconsideration.

But that's just part of the process. The system is set up to allow that, to (hopefully) correct mistakes.

When it comes to real complaints, like complaints about a judge's fairness, the type of complaints that the banks have against Judge Rakoff, some lawyers, particularly young lawyers, worry that complaining about a judge to anyone — be it the judge, another judge, or anyone who can't keep a secret — will prompt the judge to retaliate against them personally.

Other lawyers, particularly older lawyers, worry that criticism of a judge will make them (the lawyer) look unprofessional, regardless of the merits of the complaint.

And some lawyers consider complaining about judges akin to complaining about the weather. It's raining as I write this post, and will keep raining no matter what I think or say. Unless you can show that, say, the prosecutor is sleeping with the judge — and apparently not even then — complaining isn't going to get you anywhere.

Whatever the reason, this much is true: lawyers don't complain about judges.

So how do you complain about a judge without, you know, complaining about a judge?

Simple: you make up a reason.

Like Bank of America's lawyers did:

[T]he use of comments made by Judge Rakoff in his order on February 22, 2010 (the "February 22 Order") in the course of approving the settlement that resolved the SEC Actions, is already a subject of litigation in the BofA Civil Cases. For example, in their February 24 letter, Lead Plaintiffs variously contended that Judge Rakoff "held," or "determined," or "found" certain matters in the course of his approval of the settlement of the SEC Actions. including that the merger proxy statement "failed adequately to disclose" the bonus cap provision of the merger agreement and Merrill's interim losses during the fourth quarter of 2008 and that these allegedly undisclosed facts were "material." Needless to say, these hotly contested issues are central to the BofA Civil Cases.

...

Also relevant is an issue Judge Rakoff himself described as potentially problematic, but which he concluded was ultimately mooted by his approval of the settlement in the SEC Actions. In summary, Judge Rakoff obtained ex parte evidence bearing on the merits - specifically, selected portions of investigatory depositions conducted by the New York Attorney General's Office, which were not available to the Bank or to the SEC. See March 8 Submission at 4, 11. Both the Bank and the SEC objected. While Judge Rakoff overruled those objections. he acknowledged that it was "[m]ore problematic, perhaps" that these materials had been considered by him "on an ex parte basis" and that there was "a legitimate concern that the Court's determinations be made on a record fully available for the parties' scrutiny. Judge Rakoff concluded that the decision to approve the settlement of the SEC Actions rendered the ex parte issue "moot." But that issue would be resuscitated if the BofA Civil Cases were transferred Judge Rakoff.

The first "issue" there is a reason why Judge Rakoff should have the cases assigned to him: he, and only he, can say definitively what he did or did not hold in the prior SEC case. The bulk of courts in the United States hold that a judge who issued a ruling is best suited to interpret that ruling; indeed, a number of courts follow the "coordinate jurisdiction" rule, in which a later judge of the same court can't overrule a prior order by a judge of that court, only the judge who wrote the prior order can.

The second "issue" is not an issue at all. Courts see ex parte information all the time when they perform in camera reviews of privileged materials. Moreover, the cure for such a "problematic" issue is pretty simple: let the lawyers see the documents and then argue about them. Big deal. The only reason Judge Rakoff didn't do that before is because it wasn't necessary in that case. If it's necessary to resolve that in this case, then do it.

When all was said and done, the sound and fury signified nothing:

In the end, random assignment wasn't used. Rather, Loretta Preska, chief judge of the U.S. district court, decided to give the cases to U.S. District Judge Kevin Castel, she said in an interview. The decision was hers to make, versus random assignment, because the matter involves several cases transferred from different districts, she said.

The April 22 letter to Judge Chin, she added, didn't influence her decision. "I don't recall seeing it; I don't recall hearing of it," she said.

That's probably how most courts deal with complaints by lawyers about judges: they ignore them.

Public Pension Funds Complain About Private Equity Fees - Why Not Sue Under Jones v. Harris Associates?

The New York Times reports:

Private equity deal-makers, those kings of corporate buyouts, made billions for themselves when times were good. But some of their biggest investors, public pension funds, are still waiting for the hefty rewards they were promised.

The nation’s 10 largest public pension funds have paid private equity firms more than $17 billion in fees since 2000, according to a new analysis conducted for The New York Times, as the funds flocked to these so-called alternative investments in hopes of reaping market-beating returns.

But few big public funds ended up collecting the 20 to 30 percent returns that private equity managers often held out to attract pension money, a review of the funds’ performance shows.

It seems, too, that private equity managers all operate out of Lake Wobegone:

The funds vary in how they report their performance and calculate their returns, allowing a significant number to classify themselves as “top quartile,” or the best performers.

We've been cheated here in Pennsylvania, too:

In 2009, the Pennsylvania Public School Employees’ Retirement System paid $477.5 million in fees — 20 percent more than it did in 2008 and 283 percent more than in 2000, the earliest year for which data was available.

These funds generally charge fees totaling 2 percent of the money they manage and then take 20 percent of the profits they generate.

And yet, even after paying hundreds of millions of dollars in fees, the Pennsylvania fund is ailing. It lost more than a quarter of its value during its latest fiscal year and is now worth less than it was a decade ago, although its performance has improved recently.

There is a solution, you know.

It's called Jones v. Harris Associates, and it was decided last week:

On Tuesday the [Supreme] Court issued its opinion in No. 08-586, Jones v. Harris Associates. In a unanimous opinion by Justice Alito, the Court held that Gartenberg v. Merrill Lynch Asset Management, Inc. applied the correct standard for determining when an investment adviser has breached the fiduciary duty owed to captive mutual fund shareholders established under Section 36(b) of the Investment Company Act of 1940 (ICA). Under Gartenberg, Section 36(b) is violated when advisers’ fees are “so disproportionately large” that they “bear no reasonable relationship to the services rendered.”

Ultimately, the Court concluded, although Gartenberg “may lack sharp analytical clarity,” it has “provided a workable standard for nearly three decades.” The Court noted that the “fiduciary duty” standard established by the ICA represents a “delicate compromise,” protecting investors from fee arrangements not negotiated at arm’s length, but simultaneously shifting the burden of proof to the party claiming the breach of duty.

Why not use it? Even if pay-for-play doesn't drive public pension shareholder lawsuits, the pensions will probably be blamed for it anyway, so give me a call and we'll put you on a contingent fee. 

Don't worry: unlike private equity managers, we don't get a fat paycheck when we lose.

Studies Confirm Public Pension Securities Fraud Lawsuits Are Driven By Fraud, Not Pay-For-Play

Kevin LaCroix at The D&O Diary reports,

On March 24, 2010, Cornerstone Research released its annual study of securities class action lawsuit settlements. The most recent study, which is entitled "Securities Class Action Settlements: 2009 Review and Analysis" and is written by Ellen M. Ryan and Laura E. Simmons, can be found here. Cornerstone’s March 24, 2010 press release concerning the study can be found here.

The study reflects a number of interesting observations about median and average securities class action lawsuit settlements that were approved during 2009. The study also includes a useful analysis of the factors that affect settlement size, and concludes with some commentary about likely future settlement trends.

The WSJ Law Blog has more links here.

Though the overall settlement numbers get the headlines — Bloomberg titles their report, "Securities Class-Action Settlements Rose 39% to $3.8 Billion" — those numbers are always skewed by the two or three biggest cases of the year, which generally comprise one-third to one-half of the total, and so don't tell us much about the industry as a whole.

More interesting to me are the factors correlated with a successful settlement, including:

Institutional Investors Plaintiffs: Cases involving institutional investors as lead plaintiffs are associated with significantly higher settlements. The higher settlements are associated with cases involving public pension plans as lead plaintiffs as opposed to union funds or other institutional investors. These larger settlements may be due to the fact that the sophisticated investors get involved in the stronger cases and the larger cases. However, even when controlling for case size and other factors the presence of a public pension plan as lead plaintiff is still associated with a statistically significant increase in settlement size.

That's important, given the never-ending chorus complaining that "pay-for-play" drives public pension plan securities fraud class actions. The Cornerstone Research study confirms that public pension plans don't file frivolous lawsuits because some trial lawyer contributed to a politician's campaign; the public pension plans file and join the strongest cases. 

Coincidentally, a recent analysis of public pension plans' securities litigation from 2003 through 2006 — when most of the suits settled in 2009 were originally filed — concluded:

“[P]ay-to-play” is, at most, a marginal factor in the funds’ participation in securities class actions.

[...]

(1) politicians and political control of pension fund boards negatively correlate with lead plaintiff appointments;

(2) beneficiary board members—and outright beneficiary control of the board—positively correlate with such appointments; and

(3) the degree of a pension fund’s underfunding positively correlates with lead plaintiff appointments, particularly when the fund is controlled by beneficiaries.

This evidence suggests that beneficiary board members, not politicians, drive these cases for reasons having to do with the financial soundness of the fund.

Fact is, it doesn't matter how much "pay-for-play" is going on among the public pension plans: to get a securities fraud settlement out of a major corporation, you still need a viable lawsuit. No amount of campaign contributions or fancy dinners can buy a trial lawyer that.

The Cornerstone Research study confirms, once again, that the primary drivers of securities fraud class actions are the merits of the cases, which is why SEC Enforcement — as good a proxy as any for the merit of the case — was also positively correlated with higher settlements.

Skin In The Game: "Why Investment Bankers Should Have (Some) Personal Liability"

Warren Buffet often gets credit for coining the phrase "skin in the game" — even though it's not his — and his definition is, shall we say, on the money. "Skin in the game" makes a difference:

Mutual funds whose directors have "skin in the game" significantly outperform their competitors, according to a study by Syracuse University Prof. David Weinbaum. His results confirm the commonly held belief that directors who are invested in the funds that they oversee act as better stewards than directors who don't have any money on the line.

It's not the first time Prof. Weinbaum has shown that.

I'm a big believer of "skin in the game" — virtually all of my clients are on a contingent fee — and have written before about how contingency fees reduce frivolous litigation and how third-party investment in lawsuits can level the playing field against well-funded defendants.

So I was happy to read Why Investment Bankers Should Have (Some) Personal Liability at The Harvard Law School Forum on Corporate Governance and Financial Regulation:

We have written a short paper for a symposium on the work of Adolf Berle in which we advocate reintroducing some measure of personal liability for bankers, as was the case in Berle’s day, and indeed up through the 1980’s. We describe in our paper the broad outlines of a proposal to impose some measure of personal liability for a bank’s debts on the most highly paid bankers. The proposal would revive two mechanisms that imposed personal liability in an earlier era: general partnership, which was common for investment banks prior to the 1980s, and assessable stock, which was relatively common in corporations including some commercial banks through the 1930s.

It is difficult to imagine the investment banking business returning to the partnerships of old. General partnership – with the illiquidity and liability it imposes on general partners and the constraints it imposes on a bank’s ability to raise capital – probably will not be considered a viable option. It is also difficult to imagine corporations in the financial services industry issuing assessable stock to all of their shareholders or regulators seeking to require them to do so.

Our objective is to design another way to impose some of the risks of unlimited liability on the most highly compensated managers and other decision makers at investment banks and other financial services and trading firms. We seek to do so without requiring the firm itself to switch to general partnership form or to make any other change in its organizational or capital structure. We discuss below two alternatives, each one based on historical precedent.

We could argue all day about whether the theoretical incentives investment bankers have are good enough to keep them from crashing the whole financial system — a whole cottage industry has developed in the pages of the Wall Street Journal, Forbes and Business Week to do just that. But the facts are undeniable: our banking industry is broken, dangerously so.

I don't see how we can fix that without giving the bankers some "skin in the game."

Jones v. Harris Brings Out Another Harvard Law Professor Who Knows More About Writing Columns Than Litigating Cases

[Updated to clarify a distinction between securities suits and investment company act suits.]

This week, the Supreme Court heard arguments in Jones v. Harris. Briefly, the Oakmark complex of mutual funds "hired" Harris Associates as investment advisers, paying Harris 1% (per year) of the first $2 billion of the fund’s assets, 0.9% of the next $1 billion, 0.8% of the next $2 billion, and 0.75% of anything over $5 billion. I write "hired" because the situation is murky: Harris is directly affiliated with Oakmark. Importantly, the fee charged by Harris to Oakmark is more than double the fee it charges unaffiliated mutual funds.

Plaintiffs are investors in Oakmark funds who sued Harris under a variety of claims, including a claim that Harris's fees were "excessive," in violation of Section 36(b) of the Investment Company Act.

Section 36(b), which was added in 1970, is almost poetic in its ambiguity:

For the purposes of this subsection, the investment adviser of a registered investment company shall be deemed to have a fiduciary duty with respect to the receipt of compensation for services, or of payments of a material nature, paid by such registered investment company, or by the security holders thereof, to such investment adviser or any affiliated person of such investment adviser. An action may be brought under this subsection by the Commission, or by a security holder of such registered investment company on behalf of such company, against such investment adviser . . . . With respect to any such action the following provisions shall apply:

(1) It shall not be necessary to allege or prove that any defendant engaged in personal misconduct, and the plaintiff shall have the burden of proving a breach of fiduciary duty.

(2) In any such action approval by the board of directors of such investment company of such compensation or payments, or of contracts or other arrangements providing for such compensation or payments, and ratification or approval of such compensation or payments, or of contracts or other arrangements providing for such compensation or payments, by the shareholders of such investment company, shall be given such consideration by the court as is deemed appropriate under all the circumstances. . . .

In essence, the statute says only that the plaintiff can recover against the investment adviser by "proving a breach of fiduciary duty." Subsections (1) and (2) fill in a little detail — i.e., the investor need not prove "personal misconduct" and the court shall "consider" board of directors and/or shareholder ratification — but that's it.

Congress might as well have written, "investors can sue if investment advisers do something bad, but 'bad' doesn't necessarily mean really bad."

Twenty-seven years ago, faced with the same opaque language, the Second Circuit Court of Appeals came up with its own standard for "excessive fee" claims:

[T]he test is essentially whether the fee schedule represents a charge within the range of what would have been negotiated at arm’s-length in the light of all of the surrounding circumstances.

[and]

[t]o be guilty of a violation of §36(b) . . . the adviser-manager must charge a fee that is so disproportionately large that it bears no reasonable relationship to the services rendered and could not have been the product of arm’s-length bargaining.

Gartenberg v. Merrill Lynch Asset Management, Inc., 694 F.2d 923, 928 (2d Cir. 1982).

Last year, the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals came up with a different standard for "excessive fee" claims:

Having had another chance to study this question, we now disapprove the Gartenberg approach. A fiduciary duty differs from rate regulation. A fiduciary must make full disclosure and play no tricks but is not subject to a cap on compensation. The trustees (and in the end investors, who vote with their feet and dollars), rather than a judge or jury, determine how much advisory services are worth. ...

Federal securities laws, of which the Investment Company Act is one component, work largely by requiring disclosure and then allowing price to be set by competition in which investors make their own choices. Plaintiffs do not contend that Harris Associates pulled the wool over the eyes of the disinterested trustees or otherwise hindered their ability to negotiate a favorable price for advisory services. The fees are not hidden from investors—and the Oakmark funds’ net return has attracted new investment rather than driving investors away.

In short, the Seventh Circuit held that, regardless of what the Investment Company Act says, investment advisers don't have a fiduciary duty to investment companies; instead, they're held to the same fraud and misrepresentation standards as total strangers.

The Seventh Circuit opinion was remarkable not only because it eviscerated the Investment Company Act — which clearly does not require personal misconduct like "pulling the wool over [investors'] eyes" — but also because it produced a sharp disagreement on the underlying economics between Judges Easterbrook and Posner, two of the most notable adherents to the conservative "law and economics" doctrine.

It goes almost without saying that there are reasonable arguments in favor of both the investors and the investment advisers. The statute is ambiguous; there's no clear answer for what the standard "should" be in these cases, but there's also little doubt that something has gone awry with investment adviser fees in the context of affiliated mutual funds.

I write "almost," however, because Professor John Coates of Harvard Law School wants nothing to do with reasonable arguments:

How can such cases make it to the highest court in the land? Plaintiffs’ lawyers are able to file these cases because of three features of the US legal system. First, investors are dispersed, and cannot easily work together to protect their own interests. Collective action costs are often identified as a reason that investors cannot protect themselves from predatory institutions – and sometimes that is true. But those same costs also make it impossible for investors to control the lawyers who nominally represent them. Investors cannot stop lawyers from using weak or even frivolous claims to extract rich legal fees. Nor need lawyers even listen to investors with the most at stake in a case. Unlike the advisers, the lawyers are not required to negotiate with independent trustees, or to submit their lawsuit for approval to the investors. Once lawyers have appointed themselves as investor guardians, they face little competition – again, unlike the advisers, who compete with other advisers to attract new investments.

In Professor Coates' world, a lawyer can, on her own, file a "weak or even frivolous" case and "extract rich legal fees" without any involvement of the actual investors.

What a great racket! Lawyers must be filing these cases all the time and collecting big fat checks for nothing.

Or maybe fewer than 200 securities class actions are filed every year, and maybe only half of them settle for any amount, with the other half of investors and their lawyers recovering nothing for their losses.

Since Coates has never represented any investors in a lawsuit, much less represented a class of investors on a contingent fee, I suppose he needs a few reminders on how the process works.

"Jones" in Jones v. Harris is an investor, not a lawyer. Only investors can bring lawsuits and they can only win if they prove every element of their case. Like I wrote above, most of these cases are sent to the rubbish heap without any payment.

If the investors are in the lucky half that survive years of litigating over dismissal (for reference, Jones v. Harris was filed five years ago and is still at the dismissal stage), the court will carefully analyze which investor should represent the class as the lead plaintiff, giving preference to the investors with the "most at stake in a case." Nonetheless, every investor with a stake in the case, even if not the lead plaintiff, can participate in, and object to any part of, the process, including any settlement and any award of attorneys' fees.

Unsurprisingly, three-quarters of successful investor lawsuits are lead by large institutional investors (p. 27) such as public and union pensions, the ones with "the most at stake in the case."

Coates thus has it backwards: it's not "impossible for investors to control the lawyers who nominally represent them," it's impossible for lawyers to bring and win a lawsuit without the participation and support of the investors, particularly the ones with "the most at stake."

Indeed, in most potential investor class action cases, it's impossible for the lawyers to collect any fee at all: you never know when a court will read an act that says "it shall not be necessary to allege or prove that any defendant engaged in personal misconduct" and nonetheless require the investor prove personal misconduct. Based on this week's oral argument, it looks like the Supreme Court will do just that, leaving the investors and their lawyers with nothing after five years of litigation.

So much for a "rich legal fee." And that's the greatest irony: in the nearly forty years since Section 36(b) was passed, not one single court (see pp. 3–4) has ever held an investment adviser's fee was "excessive."

Wachtell, Bank of America, and The Limits of Advocacy

I have no problem criticizing Bank of America for deceptive conduct or blaming Wachtell for the failure of a legal stategy, but there's nothing obviously wrong with this:

Eric Roth, a litigation partner at Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz, apparently was telling the Bank of America Corp. leadership one story about how difficult it would be to escape from the merger with Merrill Lynch & Co. Inc., while singing quite a different tune to the federal government.

E-mails from Roth and in-house lawyers at the bank were among documents released last week from the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform, which is investigating the merger. Roth and Bank of America representatives did not return calls for comment on this story.

The e-mails show that early on the morning of Dec. 19 Roth advised the bank's chief executive, Ken Lewis, and its interim general counsel, Brian Moynihan, on how difficult and financially risky it would be to try to invoke a so-called MAC -- or material adverse change -- clause, which would allow the bank to get out of the merger with Merrill.

But another e-mail from associate general counsel Teresa Brenner to Moynihan, sent several hours later and on the same day as Roth's e-mail, says, "Eric made a very strong case as to why there was a MAC" during a conference call with some officials from the Federal Reserve.

The e-mails appear to confirm previous Corporate Counsel stories that the bank was telling federal regulators that it wanted to declare the MAC, even though its own lawyers and leaders knew that legally it probably could not succeed. If the bank were to make public its MAC threat, government regulators have said Merrill would have collapsed, causing severe damage to the shaky U.S. financial system at the time.

Although it's not a given that the Rules of Professional Conduct would apply to an argument before the Federal Reserve, let's assume that, by way of Rule 3.9, all the basic duties of merit, candor and fairness apply.

Under those rules, there's nothing wrong with advocating on behalf of your client an argument you believe "probably could not succeed." There are two sides to every story, and at least two interpretations of every legal issue. The United States uses an adversarial legal system precisely so that these stories and interpretations can be fully developed, critiqued, and challenged.

Indeed, it's clear the Federal Reserve's lawyers knew how weak Bank of America's case was:

Brenner's e-mail states that all questions other than one came from a "prickly" Thomas Baxter Jr., general counsel of the New York Federal Reserve Bank. The other question came from Scott Alvarez, general counsel to the Federal Reserve Board in Washington. Baxter "pointed out that there had never been a successful MAC case before," the e-mail says, but Roth countered "that this one essentially could be the first" because of the magnitude of Merrill's losses

Just as the NY Fed's lawyer had no duty to say if he thought the Bank of America / Merrill Lynch merger could become the first successful material adverse change case, Bank of America's lawyer had no duty to say if he thought Bank of America was unlikely to win. Lawyers have no duty to reveal what they believe are the strengths and weaknesses of their case, nor how likely they believe it is that their client will prevail.

There is, however, an ethical issue lurking deeper under the surface. There is a dispute (and shareholder class action) as to when, exactly, Bank of America learned of Merrill Lynch's losses. The executives at Merrill Lynch have suggested that BoA knew of the losses before it consummated the merger. If that's true, and Bank of America's lawyers knew it, then they're in a tighter spot, since the essence of a "material adverse change" is the change in circumstances after the merger consummation. One wonders how a lawyer could in good faith argue for a "material adverse change" arising from circumstances known before the merger.

But that's an issue for another day.

Supreme Court To Review Enron "Honest Services" Mail Fraud Conviction

SCOTUSBlog reports:

The Supreme Court agreed on Tuesday to rule on claims that “searing media attacks” on longtime Enron executive Jeffrey K. Skilling tainted his criminal trial and conviction on various fraud charges.  The case of Skilling v. U.S. (08-1394) also raises an issue on the scope of the federal law punishing the failure to provide “honest services” as a corporate executive.

In his petition to the Supreme Court, Skilling argued,

In closing argument, the government declared that Skilling and Lay committed honest-services fraud because they violated a duty to Enron’s “employees”—a duty the government described as “a duty of good faith and honest services, a duty to be truthful, and a duty to do their job, ladies and gentlemen, to do their job and do it appropriately.”

Of critical importance here, the government argued that Skilling committed every alleged act of misconduct with the specific intent to advance Enron’s interests—by increasing reported earnings, maintaining an investment-grade credit rating, and improving the price of Enron’s stock. ... The government did not contend, and the record did not suggest in any way, that Skilling intended to put his own interests ahead of Enron’s. To the contrary, the government’s stated theory was that its evidence needed only to show—and did only show—“a material violation of a fiduciary duty that defendants owed to Enron and its shareholders.”

...

The Fifth Circuit erred in holding that a conviction under § 1346 is valid even where the defendant did not seek to elevate material private interests over his employer’s. Even that limitation may not suffice to save the statute from unconstitutional vagueness, but it at least establishes some reasonably clear and intelligible boundary to the statute. It also reflects the pre-McNally understanding of honest-services fraud Congress sought to adopt in § 1346.

As Justice Scalia recently observed, the statute on its face sweeps in a breathtaking range of conduct. Sorich, 129 S.Ct. at 1310. The phrase “honest services” itself provides no clear guidance as to “how far the intangible rights theory of criminal responsibility really extends.” Bloom, 149 F.3d at 656; see Sorich, 523 F.3d at 707 (§ 1346 is “amorphous and open-ended”); Urciuoli, 513 F.3d at 294 (“the concept of ‘honest services’ is vague and undefined”); Brown, 459 F.3d at 520 (§ 1346 is a “facially vague criminal statute”); Murphy, 323 F.3d at 116 (“the plain language of § 1346 provides little guidance as to the conduct it prohibits”); U.S. v. Handakas, 286 F.3d 92, 105 (2d Cir. 2002) (“the text of § 1346 simply provides no clue to the public or the courts as to what conduct is prohibited”), overruled in part by Rybicki, 354 F.3d at 144; U.S. v. Brumley, 116 F.3d 728, 736 (5th Cir. 1997) (Jolly & DeMoss, JJ., dissenting) (§ 1346 is “general, undefined, vague, and ambiguous”). ...

Several lower courts, however, have sought to resolve the problem of the statute’s facial ambiguity by reading into the text limitations on “honest services” fraud. The “private gain” requirement is among the clearest of those limitations, and it is drawn directly from the pre-McNally cases that created the concept of honest-services fraud. McNally itself stated the rule: “Under [the prior honestservices] cases, a public official owes a fiduciary duty to the public, and misuse of his office for private gain is a fraud.” Id. at 355 (emphasis added).

Applying a private-gain limitation to honest services fraud is the only way to even arguably “avoid the constitutional question” raised by the vagueness of the phrase “honest services.” Jones v. U.S., 529 U.S. 848, 858 (2000). Absent that limitation, the statute is nothing more than a common-law fiduciary-breach statute, impermissibly criminalizing whatever wrongful or unethical corporate acts a given prosecutor decides to attack. Brown, 459 F.3d at 521-22; Bloom, 149 F.3d at 654.

 Here's the whole statute at issue:

For the purposes of this chapter, the term “scheme or artifice to defraud” includes a scheme or artifice to deprive another of the intangible right of honest services.

It defines part of the statute for "fraud by wire, radio, or television:"

Whoever, having devised or intending to devise any scheme or artifice to defraud, or for obtaining money or property by means of false or fraudulent pretenses, representations, or promises, transmits or causes to be transmitted by means of wire, radio, or television communication in interstate or foreign commerce, any writings, signs, signals, pictures, or sounds for the purpose of executing such scheme or artifice, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 20 years, or both. ...

He may be on to something.

Then again, is there really any "vagueness" to the notion that fraud is criminal? Does anyone really throw their hands up into the air and proclaim that they don't know if it's illegal to defraud investors for the benefit of a company that pays that person millions every year, a company of which they own millions of dollars worth of shares?

Small Businesses More Likely To Have Corporate Veil Pierced Than Large Companies

That's the conclusion of new scholarship by law professors Dave Hoffman and Cristy Boyd, in a draft just published here on SSRN, with blogging about it here. After analyzing 690 cases that sought to pierce the corporate veil between 2000 and 2005, they conclude:

The part that extra-legal influences play in veil piercing cases should caution corporate lawyers and scholars. Although jurists have focused on the influence of law and lawyers' craft on the likelihood of defending the veil, we find that two previously ignored factors – ideology, and firm size, play as important a role, if not more so. This finding reminds us that legal rules create only loose constraints on judges, even those in the trial courts. ...

We contest the conventional wisdom not just in its specifics but in its general theme that veil piercing doctrine is especially random and freakish. We think that the patterns we have observed fit well with a set of cases influenced by selection. Plaintiffs do win far more often during litigation than popular accounts of the doctrine's rare nature would have had us expect, but their ultimate chance of obtaining relief on the merits is obscured by settlement, which disposes two of three veil piercing cases filed in federal court. ...

Litigation results can tell us nothing more, and nothing less, than the kinds of factors
courts have found important in previous decided cases. Here, two extra-factors appear to be both important and surprising: ideology and firm size. Formalities, plaintiffs' tactics, and defendants' legal planning, have modest relationships to observed outcomes. To owners of the smallest of businesses, the message coming from this data is unfortunately both clear and unsatisfying: neither reliance on legal formalities nor pat expectations about the pro-business orientation of conservative judges will protect your firm from the need to dispute its veil in
court.
To scholars, the message is also unsettling: to predict how judges will react to veil piercing facts, and to understand their motivations, observation must yield to experiment.

In short, they found that the smaller the company, or the more conservative the judge, the more likely it is that the veil will be pierced and the owners of the company held personally liable.

One might think that smaller company size was positively correlated with veil piercing success because "undercapitalization," which is generally the most effecive veil piercing theory, is closely correlated with company size. (Common sense suggests that, although it's easy to set up a fly-by-night small business, it's quite difficult to establish an large corporation, even an "undercapitalized" one.) The above findings, however, control for factors like the type of veil piercing claim (i.e., "undercapitalization" as compared to "alter ego" or the like), which means that company size alone is a significant factor in veil piercing. That suggests something else at work, possibly a systematic bias against smaller companies (or a bias in favor of larger companies).

Frankly, I was surprised to see that "in nearly 78% of litigations, plaintiffs likely realized some value from their veil piercing claims" because the veil piercing claims had either (a) succeeded or (b) had not been dismissed at the time of settlement.

I don't believe all of those plaintiffs realized some value from it -- the mere fact that a claim has not yet been dismissed doesn't necessarily mean the defendant sees a reasonable chance of it succeeding -- but the sheer size of that figure (almost four in five!) is hard to argue with. Veil piercing claims apparently have a lot more traction than most lawyers believe.

Then again, the presumption among most plaintiff's lawyers that veil piercing is inordinately difficult and rare likely leads to a strong selection bias prior to filing suit, such that only the strongest veil piercing claims are ever brought at all.

I recommend the authors journey down this road:

This relationship also implies that the particular grounds for relief asserted in complaints generally reflect the underlying facts of the case. To some, this result will surprise, as notice pleading rules, together with the expectation that plaintiffs will learn and shape their cases through discovery, might lead scholars to expect that the framing of the complaint functions as mere rhetorical gloss, insignificant in its particulars. Our contrary finding suggests that complaints are themselves objects worthy of further study beyond the confines of this particular project.

In the world of Ashcroft v. Iqbal, complaints are anything but "rhetorical gloss." These days, they're often the strongest case the plaintiff can put forward.

Bank of America / Merrill Lynch Saga Continues: Can Attorney-Client Privilege Be Both A Sword And A Shield?

As you may have heard, Judge Rakoff did not like the proposed SEC settlement with Bank of America (neither did I) in part because it blamed the bank's lawyers while refusing to waive attorney-client privilege and explain what, exactly, went wrong. A week ago, he rejected it entirely:

In a 13-page order available here at the New York Times's DealBook blog, Rakoff variously calls the settlement "trivial," "absurd," and "neither fair, nor reasonable, nor adequate." His primary objection seems to be that shareholders would indirectly pay for the alleged failure to disclose the bonuses, since the bank, not the individual executives who struck the merger agreement, would pay the fine. The SEC, according to Rakoff, says it cannot punish BofA executives because those executives did not craft the merger agreement in a way that--according to the agency--violated disclosure rules. Who did craft the merger agreement in such a way?

According to the SEC, that would be the lawyers who wrote the agreement--Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz for BofA and Shearman & Sterling for Merrill. Rakoff responds with a sentence that must frighten any M&A lawyer: "If that is the case, why are the penalties not then sought from the lawyers?"

As we've written at length, the pointing of the finger at outside counsel has raised serious questions about whether the bank waived attorney-client privilege in its talks with the SEC, and whether Rakoff may try to extend that waiver into his courtroom. The bank, for its part, has denied any wrongdoing, saying it is routine to conceal sensitive information, such as bonus payments, in confidential statements filed at the same time as public merger agreements.

Now Congress has jumped in:

The chairman of the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform on Friday told Bank of America that it has questions concerning disclosures made surrounding the bank’s purchase of Merrill Lynch. The panel’s chairman, Edolphus Towns (D-NY), told the bank it can’t use the attorney-client privilege when dealing with Congress. Click here for more, from the NYT; here for earlier coverage of BacMerSaga, from the LB.

In a letter on Friday, Towns (pictured) said the bank must divulge when it became aware of the enormous losses at Merrill last year, when it received a commitment from the federal government for a second round of bailout money and what legal advice its management received about whether it had to disclose those developments to the bank’s shareholders. (Legal advice? Yipes! It means that, at least for the moment, the roles of Wachtell, Lipton and Shearman & Sterling will likely stay firmly in the spotlight.)

...

Bank of America acknowledged that Congress had the authority to disregard attorney-client privilege. That said, the bank’s Washington law firm, WilmerHale, argued that that would set a bad precedent. It’s a sentiment shared, writes the NYT, by the Association of Corporate Counsel, which came to BofA’s defense this month when the New York attorney general Andrew Cuomo asked the bank to give up its claim that its legal advice should remain private. The group issued a statement saying that it would be an “outrageous precedent” for other public companies if the bank had to give up its right to legal privacy.

As I wrote back when Judge Rakoff was still considering the settlement,

Courts often hold that clients cannot use attorney-client privilege as both a sword and a shield. That is, clients can either use lawyers' advice as a "sword" to defend themselves or they can use the privilege as a "shield" to keep communications private, in which case they're off limits entirely.

But they can't have it both ways. If they could, every defendant would just blame their lawyers and call it a day.

Bank of America's (current) lawyers have it exactly backwards: it would set a "outrageous precedent" if privilege was not waived here, because the bank itself interjected legal advice into the matter by blaming its lawyers for what happened.

The principle involved is not complicated. If you want to keep your legal advice out of the case, then do not use it in your defense. If you want to blame your lawyers and raise advice of counsel as a defense, then you lose the privilege.

Sword or shield. Not both.

Court Re-Rejects Bank of America & Merrill Lynch's SEC Settlement For Failure To Waive Attorney-Client Privilege

On Tuesday, The New York Times reported:

The finger-pointing in Merrill Lynch’s bonus troubles shifted to a new target on Monday in two court documents that essentially said: blame the lawyers.

Responding to questions posed by a federal judge, Bank of America and the Securities and Exchange Commission said the bank had relied on its outside lawyers to fill in the fine print in that firm’s controversial marriage with Bank of America.

That meant that lawyers at two firms — Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz as well as Shearman & Sterling — handled a decision to keep Merrill’s $3.6 billion in bonus payouts a secret from Bank of America’s shareholders, according to the filings.

It is unclear if the responses will satisfy the judge who requested them, Judge Jed S. Rakoff of the Southern District of New York. He has the power to decide whether to approve a $33 million settlement reached between Bank of America and the S.E.C. over the bank’s failure to disclose the bonuses to its shareholders.

I was going to write a post about how that bothered me, because, as the AmLaw Litigation Daily noted:

"The preparation of the joint proxy statement, including the decision not to attach the disclosure schedule setting forth the agreement on...bonuses or otherwise disclose its contents in the proxy statement, was made by the lawyers at Wachtell, Shearman, Bank of America and Merrill," the SEC brief says, adding that statements in the proxy materials deliberately misled investors into believing Merrill bonuses would not be paid.

Bank of America did not waive attorney-client privilege for the SEC investigation, so the SEC says its knowledge of what the Wachtell and Shearman lawyers said is limited. The government contends, moreover, that the executives' reliance on their lawyers shields them from fraud accusations because it would be hard to prove scienter.

Bank of America's lawyers at Cleary Gottlieb Steen & Hamilton--Lewis Liman and Shawn Chen--offered precious few of the specifics Judge Rakoff seemed to be asking for at the August 10 hearing. The names of Kenneth Lewis and John Thain, for instance, appear nowhere in BofA's submission. And as for the role of the outside lawyers, the brief merely says: "The parties were represented throughout the process by two law firms with preeminent experience in the field of mergers and acquisitions." Cleary offered no details on who or what those preeminent firms advised about disclosure materials.

Judge Rakoff, however, beat me to it:

Federal judge Jed S. Rakoff fired a new shot in his challenge to a $33 million settlement by Bank of America Corp. over investor disclosures, saying the government's justification for letting individual executives off the hook is "at war with common sense."

The Securities and Exchange Commission reached the settlement with the bank last month. The agency charged that a Bank of America proxy statement in November misled investors about bonuses for employees at Merrill Lynch, which was about to be acquired by the bank.

The SEC has said it couldn't investigate individual executives' culpability because they said they relied on lawyers' advice. Unless the executives waived their right to keep the advice private, the SEC said it would face "substantial obstacles" to building a case.

Judge Rakoff, who must approve any settlement, criticized that reasoning. If that were the regulator's policy, "it would seem that all a corporate officer who has produced a false proxy statement need offer by way of defense is that he or she relied on counsel." He said if the company insists on attorney-client privilege, there is no way to test the assertion and determine whether executives or their lawyers were culpable.

Exactly right. Courts often hold that clients cannot use attorney-client privilege as both a sword and a shield. That is, clients can either use lawyers' advice as a "sword" to defend themselves or they can use the privilege as a "shield" to keep communications private, in which case they're off limits entirely.

But they can't have it both ways. If they could, every defendant would just blame their lawyers and call it a day.

(If you're interested in more, AmLawDaily dug a bit deeper into the ethics issues raised by the litigation.)

Merck Asks Supreme Court To Order It Be Sued Every Time Its Shareholders Lose Money

AmLawDaily catches Merck passing the reins from Cravath, Swaine & Moore to Williams & Connolly for its petition to the Supreme Court regarding the consolidated Vioxx securities litigation. In a moment, we'll look at Merck's (likely very, very expensive) brief, and marvel at the Catch-22 it proposes.

But first, some background, courtesy of the Third Circuit's opinion:

Appellants, purchasers of Merck & Co., Inc. stock, filed the first of several class action securities fraud complaints on November 6, 2003, alleging that the company and certain of its officers and directors (collectively, “Merck”) misrepresented the safety profile and commercial viability of Vioxx, a pain reliever that was withdrawn from the market in September 2004 due to safety concerns. The District Court granted Merck’s motion to dismiss the complaint under Rule 12(b)(6) of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, holding that Appellants were put on inquiry notice of the alleged fraud more than two years before they filed suit, and thus their claims were barred by the statute of limitations. Appellants argue that the District Court erred in finding as a matter of law that there was sufficient public information prior to November 6, 2001 to trigger Appellants’ duty to investigate the alleged fraud.

The Third Circuit agreed with Appellants and reversed the dismissal. That's what Merck has appealed to the Supreme Court.

Although Merck had internal doubts over Vioxx's safety long before it was even approved by the FDA, it never made those doubts public (they were only discovered through litigation). After the "VIGOR" study released in 2000 suggested Vioxx had an increased risk of cardiovascular incidents over another pain reliever, naproxen, Merck argued the difference was due to a protective effect of naproxen, rather than any danger due to Vioxx. In September 2001, the FDA sent Merck a warning letter, which noted:

Although the exact reason for the increased rate of [myocardial infarctions] observed in the Vioxx treatment group is unknown, your promotional campaign selectively presents the following hypothetical explanation for the observed increase in MIs. You assert that Vioxx does not increase the risk of MIs and that the VIGOR finding is consistent with naproxen’s ability to block platelet aggregation like aspirin. That is a possible explanation, but you fail to disclose that your explanation is hypothetical, has not been demonstrated by substantial evidence, and that there is another reasonable explanation, that Vioxx may have pro-thrombotic properties.

The issue remained controversial and disputed until October 2003, when a "study by the Harvard-affiliated Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston that found an increased risk of heart attack in patients taking Vioxx compared with patients taking Celebrex and placebo." A week after that study was made public, the investors sued Merck.

Merck's argument is that the FDA warning letter alone -- which it vigorously disputed in public, while concealing its own internal doubts -- was evidence enough that they committed securities fraud, thereby putting investors on "inquiry notice" and beginning the statute of limitations.

Thanks to the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995, and the Supreme Court's 2007 decision in Tellabs Inc. v. Makor Issues & Rights, Ltd., investors alleging fraud need to show facts, in their initial complaint, which create an "inference of scienter" (i.e., the defendant’s intention “to deceive, manipulate, or defraud) that is

more than merely “reasonable” or “permissible”—it must be cogent and compelling, thus strong in light of other explanations. A complaint will survive, we hold, only if a reasonable person would deem the inference of scienter cogent and at least as compelling as any opposing inference one could draw from the facts alleged.

It's a high bar to meet, a "heightened pleading requirement" to be sure. In essence, investors filing a shareholder fraud suit have to prove, when they file suit, that they'll likely win.

Keep that in mind while reading Merck's brief to the Supreme Court:

With regard to those elements that are required for a violation of Section 10(b), moreover, it is not necessary that the plaintiff possess sufficient information to satisfy any heightened pleading requirements applicable to those elements before the limitations period begins running. In the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995 (PSLRA)—enacted after this Court first set out the limitations period for Section 10(b) actions in Lampf—Congress adopted heightened pleading requirements for private securities-fraud actions, including the requirement that the complaint “state with particularity facts giving rise to a strong inference that the defendant acted with the required state of mind.” 1934 Act § 21D(b)(2), 15 U.S.C. 78u-4(b)(2).

In Rotella, this Court considered and rejected the argument that the existence of heightened pleading requirements should drive application of the discovery
rule. Specifically, the Court rejected the plaintiff’s contention that it should adopt a broader version of the discovery rule for civil RICO claims on the ground that, in
many cases, those claims were subject to the heightened pleading requirement for fraud claims in Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 9(b). 528 U.S. at 560-561. While acknowledging the plaintiff’s concern that a narrower rule could “allow[] blameless ignorance to defeat a claim,” the Court concluded that “we simply do not think such a concern should control the decision about the basic limitations rule.” Id. at 560 (internal quotation marks and citation omitted). Although the PSLRA operates differently in some respects from Rule 9(b), the basic point remains the same: under the discovery rule, the limitations period may be triggered even when a plaintiff will not possess sufficient information to satisfy any applicable heightened pleading requirements.

It is therefore true, at least as a theoretical matter, that, under Section 1658(b), a plaintiff may not be in a position to file a securities-fraud complaint that would survive a motion to dismiss before the limitations period runs. Even when the discovery rule is applicable, however, the purpose of the limitations period itself is to give the plaintiff a specified period of time in which to “prepare a case against [the] perpetrators”—not to sit on his complaint once it is ready. Lampf, 501 U.S. at 378 (Kennedy, J., dissenting); see, e.g., Fujisawa Pharm. Co. v. Kapoor, 115 F.3d 1332, 1334 (7th Cir. 1997). As the government has previously explained in another case involving the discovery rule, “statutes of limitations are designed to induce prospective plaintiffs to investigate and act; they are not designed to offer a period of leisure between the completion of an investigation and the filing of suit.” U.S. Br. at 13, Kubrick, supra (No. 78-1014). The possibility that a heightened pleading requirement “will exact some cost,” insofar as some plaintiffs may be unable to prepare valid complaints within the limitations period, is thus an insufficient basis for adopting a broader interpretation of the discovery rule. Rotella, 528 U.S. at 560.

Like I said: Catch-22. According to Merck, you can't sue until you have enough evidence to show a "strong inference" of scienter, but you have to sue within two years of the first sign -- determined in hindsight -- of when you should have been "induce[d] ... to investigate and act," even if there was no evidence of scienter.

It's odd that Cravath and Williams & Connolly didn't put more effort into this argument. Rotella reached its conclusion by analogizing the racketeering claims at issue there -- brought by a psychiatric patient eleven years after discharge against a facility which, he alleged, fraudulently kept him there to boost profits -- to medical malpractice, where the patient is typically put on "notice" of their claims at the time of their injury.

Such bears little resemblance to the Merck case, in which the investors were arguably vaguely "injured" by the 2001 FDA letter regarding Merck's marketing, but had nothing even suggesting deliberate concealment of Vioxx's risks until 2003.

Moving on to the next two paragraphs in Merck's brief: 

Significantly, in extending the limitations period for Section 10(b) claims from one year to two years in the Sarbanes-Oxley Act, Congress acted out of concern that the preexisting one-year period would foreclose plaintiffs who were unable to prepare complaints sufficient to satisfy the PSLRA’s heightened pleading requirements in time. In its report, the Senate Judiciary Committee observed that “[t]he one year statute of limitations from the date the fraud is discovered is * * * particularly harsh on innocent defrauded investors,” because “the complexities of how the fraud was executed often take well over a year to unravel, even after the fraud is discovered.” S. Rep. No. 146, supra, at 9. Specifically, the committee noted that, “[w]ith the higher pleading standards that * * * govern securities fraud victims, it is unfair to expect victims to be able to negotiate such obstacles in the span of 12 months.” Ibid. That concern would have been wholly misplaced if the one-year period did not begin to run until the plaintiff possessed enough information to satisfy the PSLRA’s heightened pleading requirements in the first place.

Conversely, if the limitations period were triggered only once a plaintiff was able to bring suit, the practical effect of Congress’s adoption of heightened pleading requirements in the PSLRA would have been to postpone the start of the limitations period, sometimes significantly, in many cases. Given that the PSLRA’s primary purpose was to “check * * * abusive litigation by private parties,” Tellabs Inc. v. Makor Issues & Rights, Ltd., 551 U.S. 308, 313 (2007), it is implausible that, in enacting the PSLRA, Congress would have wanted effectively to extend the time for filing private securities fraud actions—and thus to enable more plaintiffs to use securities-fraud actions as a hedge against downside risk. See pp. 48-49, infra. In sum, the limitations period in Section 1658(b) is triggered by something short of the ability to file a viable complaint, and there is therefore no valid statutory basis for the court of appeals’ rule that a plaintiff must possess information specifically relating to scienter in order to be on inquiry notice.

That misses the point entirely. If Congress wanted to "check abusive litigation," then it is similarly "implausible" that Congress wants to force investors to file suit before they "possess sufficient information to satisfy any heightened pleading requirements."

Which is what Merck suggests.

The investors' brief is due in October. The Supreme Court has not yet scheduled oral argument.

But it will raise an interesting question: should investors be required to sue companies at the first hint of trouble, or can they wait until they have facts suggesting wrongdoing? Do we really want to encourage suits which even the plaintiffs don't know are meritorious?

VC Firm Pushes Zappos To Sell To Amazon: A Good Example Of Framing Contracts Around Likely Future Disputes

Amazon just paid a little under a billion dollars for Zappos, a shoe-company with legendary customer service. Of interest to those of us in the litigation business is this post at peHUB:

One of the sources says Zappos was financially strong enough to wait for the IPO market to recover, if it chose to go that route. The source, a Zappos shareholder who has seen the company’s income statement reports, said that the company did over $1 billion in gross revenue in 2008, $625 million in net revenue and had an EBITA greater than $40 million.

Zappos had raised $49.1 million from venture investors since its inception, most of it from Sequoia, according Thomson Reuters (publisher of PEHub.com). The Zappos shareholder, who says he has seen the company’s capitalization tables, says Sequoia had a 3x or 3.5x liquidity preference associated with the shares it purchased.

“When Mike [Moritz, a GP with Sequoia] came in, he came in at a high valuation, but he countered that with a very high liquidation preference,” the shareholder says. “It puts management on one side of the table and investors on the other. Then there’s always pressure to sell the company.”

At least two sources who do not hold board seats, but are directly involved with Zappos, indicated that Moritz and Zappos CEO Tony Hsieh came into conflict about the company’s future. Moritz, the sources say, wanted Zappos to sell while Hsieh wanted to remain independent.

Such a dispute, if true (Zappos has sort-of denied it), could have  turned into a bitter lawsuit that, at the least, frustrated the sale to Amazon.

It didn't. Perhaps that's because Zappos' management just didn't want to do that.

But perhaps it's also because, from the get-go, the parties realized that their interests were not entirely aligned, and so intentionally framed the deal in a way that recognized and dealt with this conflict, rather than papering over it or punting it to the future.

Sure, it was easier for Sequoia and Zappos to see this coming, since venture capitalists (and most private equity investors) understand the inherent conflict between management and investors when it comes time for an exit, and so routinely frame their contracts around it.

Nonetheless, it's a good example for every business, investor and partner who gets caught up in the exuberance of signing onto a project without stopping to think about the likely disputes down the line. The more you think about these potential disputes, the less time you'll spend dealing with people like me.

Contingent Fee Business Lawyers As Venture Capitalists

In the world of venture capitalism, Fred Wilson’s blog, “A VC” is essential reading, and Fred is particularly generous with his insight and information about the field.

I read Fred’s blog partly because it’s darn interesting and partly because there are a lot of parallels between venture capitalism and contingent fee litigation. We both take on a lot of risk and invest a lot of time and money for the potential of a big payoff down the road, as compared to regular and steady income.

Yesterday, Fred wrote an interesting post about the venture capitalism industry as a whole, and how the math doesn't add up. There are just not enough “exits” (through a merger / acquisition or an initial public offering) to justify the size of the venture capitalism industry as a whole.

So I commented, he responded, and we had a short conversation about the economics of contingent fee litigation and the potential for creating a market for contingent patent infringement defense.

But that’s not what this post is about. At the end, Brad Feld chimed in: 

If they did one-way loser pays (e.g. plaintiff has to cover defendants cost if the plaintiff loses) and they prohibited contingency fee relationships that would solve a lot of problems.

That’s a common sentiment among businesses, from big corporations to entrepreneurs to mom and pop stores, a sentiment that usually disappears the moment they need an attorney but can't afford the risk of paying for years of litigation without a guaranteed return.

I’ve written before about loser pays and how it’s unfair to penalize the party that bears the burden of proof on an issue from failing to meet that burden, and that loser pays serves as a strong deterrent against meritorious claims.

But let me focus on the contingent fee aspect. As part of my discussion with Fred, I talked about some of the numbers when the plaintiff wins a big case:

[A big win in the litigation business] depends on the resources devoted to it, so let me give some examples based on actual costs and number of attorneys on the case.

(Someone might ask, "why not use billable hours for resources?" Well, contingent fee attorneys almost never devote themselves entirely to one case, and each minute spent on the case instantly becomes a sunk cost, so we generally ignore time already spent on a case and focus on two things: actual costs and opportunity cost due to the lawyer(s) having to turn down other work. I refer to the latter as "bandwidth," i.e. the availability of a lawyer to take on other work. Keep in mind also you're paying these attorneys (including yourself) a salary, and thus have a significant carry cost, although the salary on a 'per case' basis is quite low given how most attorneys have over 10 cases, even those on substantial matters.)

A large-damages personal injury / product liability / medical malpractice lawsuit can be done by one or two attorneys and costs below $250,000, with recovery of $5-$10m within 1.5-3 years. That's a big win: you put in $250k out of pocket, likely didn't impair bandwidth, and recovered $2-$4m in attorneys' fees.

The numbers aren't too much different for most small business cases, with breach of contract, unfair competition, etc.

A regional-market antitrust / mid-sized patent infringement case can be done with 3-6 attorneys, $1-$5m in costs, with a recovery of $15-$50m in 2-4 years. Another big win: you put in $1-$5m out of pocket, moderately impaired bandwidth, and recovered $7-$20m in attorneys' fees.

A massive shareholder class action / national antitrust / large patent infringement case can be done with 10-40 attorneys, $10-40m in costs, and a recovery of >$100m in 4-10 years. Think of the Blackberry patent infringement case, which ended with a $612m settlement and over $200m in fees (resulting in profits-per-partner than year over $4m).

Big money, right? Why not file lawsuits all day long?

The difference is, those are the big winners, the venture capital equivalent of starting a company that gets bought out by Microsoft or which enters the public market with a heralded IPO proceeded by weeks of favorable press, like Google. It’s great, but it’s also rare.

Day in and day out, the primary thing a contingent fee law firm does is spend lots of money. In addition to all the normal costs of a business (rent, staff, etc.), you have to pay your attorneys salaries which are competitive in the market, even against hourly billing firms, and you have to dump loads of money and time into cases for experts, motions, discovery, trials, appeals and negotiations, none of which earn you a dime until the very end.

So I'd say it's no different from Brad's or Fred's ventures: we have as strong an incentive against taking frivolous or vexatious claims as they have against investing in unprofitable businesses. The last thing I want to do is spend years of my life and five, six or seven-figures pursuing a case that returns nothing. Like a venture capital fund, our contingent fee law firm turns down far more cases than it accepts.

Do vexatious or extortionate law suits happen? Sure, potentially more for cases which are high stakes and expensive to defend, like shareholder class actions or patent infringement. That's why I think a limited form of fee-shifting is appropriate, like when the patent being sued upon is declared invalid as a matter of law.

But loser pays and no contingency would close the courthouse doors to all but the wealthiest of parties, since no one would be able to afford pursuing even the best of claims without a massive war chest, particularly in the extremely-expensive shareholder class action, antitrust and patent infringement contexts.

It'd be like stripping venture capital funds of limited liability and restricting them to using secured debt, not equity, to fund investments, forcing them to do little more than invest in the biggest companies in the world.

How AIG Shareholders (Like the US Gov't) Can Sue to Get Back The Bonuses

The top officials at Treasury have already set aside all of the broad governmental powers available (claiming we are a "nation of laws"), so let's look at the United States purely as an angel investor which saw a large company faltering and swooped in with an 80% equity investment. Uncle Sam has just learned about the following (AIGFP is the “Financial Products” division of AIG, the morons responsible for wiring the global economy to explode by writing trillions of dollars in undercapitalized “credit default swap” policies):

In the first quarter of 2008 [a few months prior to the equity purchase], AIGFP adopted a retention plan for about 400 employees that provided guaranteed payments to employees if they worked through specified payment dates (or either resigned for good reason or was terminated without cause before the relevant dates). At the time, AIGFP was expected to have a valuable, on-going role at AIG. The plan was implemented because there was a significant risk of departures among employees at AIGFP, and given the $2.7 trillion of derivative positions at AIGFP at that time, retention incentives appeared to be in the best interest of all of AIG’s stakeholders. The program was evidenced by a written plan distributed to employees and by individual agreements executed by them.

For senior management the plan provides that 2008 and 2009 compensation will be 75% of 2007 expected compensation levels. Other participants are set at the full 2007 level. This resulted in a $313 million total for 2008 and a $327 million total for 2009 (because some employees who had other guaranteed compensation for 2008 were excluded for that year).

Frustratingly, had AIG merely gone bankrupt instead being saved by the investment, then these would likely be voidable by the trustee as excessive insider transactions under 11 USC § 547. (Indeed, if AIG goes bankrupt soon, we’re still within the “1 year and 90 days” window to use § 547.)

At the moment, we don’t have the text of the contracts, and so can’t determine if any of the doctrines listed in this exhaustive Concurring Opinions post would apply. Personally, I think commercial impracticability / frustration of purpose are realistic options here given AIG’s total dependence upon the government’s grace.

But let’s assume the contract is, on its face, iron-clad, properly drafted, formed, accepted, and with all conditions met.

What’s a cheated shareholder to do?

Unsurprisingly, American International Group, Inc., was incorporated in Delaware, the least-shareholder-friendly jurisdiction in the country (which is why management loves it), so we’ll look to Delaware law.

Generally, prior to launching a derivative suit on behalf of the company, a shareholder must send a demand letter to the board of directors, demanding they, in this instance, not go through with the transaction. Here, however, a court would likely find the demand letter requirement excused as “futile” given AIG CEO Edward Liddy’s letter to Treasury Secretary Geithner asserting that AIG intended to go through with the payments despite his complaints.

So we’re past the first hurdle, and can sue on behalf of AIG, as shareholders at the time this payment is being made. But the bar is set quite high for us. Unsurprisingly,

The AIG certificate of incorporation has a § 102(b)(7) clause that insulates AIG's directors from liability for monetary damages for any harm flowing from their gross negligence. See Malpiede v. Townson, 780 A.2d 1075, 1095-96 (Del. 2001) (affirming the dismissal of a duty of care claim where the corporation's charter had an exculpatory provision).

We'll get to the source of this quote in a minute. For now, "gross negligence" isn't even enough to sue a director.

So who do we sue and what do we allege?

Like most plaintiffs, we start hobbled by a lack of information. What the heck does the white paper mean that “This amount is due pursuant to a retention plan entered into in early 2008?” Entered into by whom, and with whom, after what process?

Talking Points Memo points us to the NY Daily News regarding how AIGFP functioned:

Company auditor Joseph St. Denis became concerned about the Financial Products unit, but [Joseph Cassano, head of AIG Financial Products] barred him from checking.

St. Denis later quoted Cassano as saying, "I have deliberately excluded you ... because I was concerned that you would pollute the process."

St. Denis would recall Cassano saying he did not want to be promoted even further up the corporate ladder "because it would separate [him] from the money." St. Denis would remember Cassano telling him "AIG's corporate management was "scared to death" of him."

Oh my. That's not much of an internal process at all. It sounds like they're just running a criminal organization in there, or at the very least had inadequate internal controls that were too easily bypassed by the insiders.

We don't have to look far to figure out if we can sue for that. Just a month ago, the Delaware Court of Chancery (New Castle) refused to dismiss a shareholder complaint against AIG because,

The Complaint fairly supports the assertion that AIG's Inner Circle led a -- and I use this term with knowledge of its strength -- criminal organization. The diversity, pervasiveness, and materiality of the alleged financial wrongdoing at AIG is extraordinary. The proposition that Matthews and Tizzio, who the Complaint fairly alleges were directly knowledgeable of and involved in much of the wrongdoing, did not also know that AIG's internal controls were inadequate and too easily bypassed is not, for present purposes, an interpretation to ground a Rule 12(b)(6) dismissal order on. Indeed, for present purposes, it is inferable that even when Matthews and Tizzio were not directly complicitous in the wrongful schemes, they were aware of the schemes and knowingly failed to stop them. In that regard, I find it inferable that Matthews and Tizzio were aware of misconduct that should have been brought to the attention of AIG's independent directors (including the Audit Committee) but chose to conceal their knowledge, despite having a fiduciary duty to speak."

Am. Int'l Group, Inc. v. Greenberg, No. C.A. No. 769-VCS, 2009 Del. Ch. LEXIS 15, at *77–78 (Del. Ch. Feb. 10, 2009). For more, see the Delaware Corporate & Commercial Litigation Blog which, alongside The D&O Diary and the Harvard Law School Corporate Governance Forum, sets the bar for reporting on these cases.

In that suit, Greenberg, Matthews and Tizzio were all directors, who are the normal targets of shareholder suits, because their actions are generally insured by policies previously paid for by the company.

But we're not limited to them -- recent amendments to 10 Del. C. § 3114 assure us jurisdiction in Delaware over directors, trustees, members and officers of all corporations incorporated in Delaware. It's not clear exactly what Cassano's position was, but the "head" of anything is generally an officer of some sort. So we've got him, even if he's never set foot in Delaware. At the very least, we can sue whatever directors or officers were involved in this transaction -- several hundred million dollars doesn't walk out the door without someone blessing it.

Then what? Assuming even we can't prove outright fraud by these 400 employees, we still have the blatant breach of fiduciary duty by excluding the auditor. As such, the whole plan, even as it relates to "innocent" parties, can be reformulated under Delaware law:

The glaring problem with the defendants' argument is again a category error -- this is not a contract case involving the reformation of a contract to effectuate the parties' intent; it is a fiduciary duty case, and this court has broad discretion to remedy breaches of fiduciary duty, including reformation when, as here, that is appropriate to remedy a fiduciary violation. See, e.g., Thorpe v. CERBCO, Inc., 676 A.2d 436, 445 (Del. 1996) ('Delaware law dictates that the scope of recovery for a breach of the duty of loyalty is not to be determined narrowly.'); Taylor v. Jones, 2006 Del. Ch. LEXIS 100, 2006 WL 1510437, at (Del. Ch. May 25, 2006) (noting that a resulting trust may be an appropriate remedy even though the prerequisites to a resulting trust under the modern, majority approach were not present and that this court's 'historical readiness to adapt to the circumstances of each case and craft appropriate remedies . . . should not be lightly discarded or circumscribed'); Cantor Fitzgerald L.P. v. Cantor, 2001 Del. Ch. LEXIS 70, 2001 WL 536911, at (Del. Ch. May 11, 2001) (awarding fee shifting in as a remedy for a breach of the duty of loyalty despite an express contractual provision providing otherwise and explaining that 'when the facts demonstrate behavior as egregious as that here, the Court's normal deference to pre-negotiated partnership agreement provisions will yield to a conscientious effort to craft an appropriate remedy')."

GPC XLI L.L.C. v. Loral Space & Communs. Consol. Litig. (In re Loral Space & Communs. Consol. Litig.), C.A. No. 2808-VCS, C.A. No. 3022-VCS, 2008 Del. Ch. LEXIS 136, at *7–123–5–3–124 n.161 (Del. Ch. Sept. 19, 2008).

If we are a "nation of laws," why not use some of them?

UPDATE Steven M. Davidoff at DealBook gets it:

This was not a boilerplate contract. Rather, it was highly negotiated. And it was highly negotiated to pay retention fees at high levels without regard to performance. This is obviously shocking. But it makes me wonder: perhaps one area of direction here should be actually looking at who negotiated this and why?

It strikes me that the A.I.G. financial products division received an unbelievably sweet deal. Did its managers slip it under the radar? Did the managers act in good faith? And who at A.I.G. signed off on this and did they focus on the risks and rewards? Yet more avenues for possible litigation.

But of course, this is all merely a diversion for what should be the main focus: Where did the $170 billion go that taxpayers spent on A.I.G and why, and what we are going to do with A.I.G. going forward.

 

Should Businesses Default to Delaware for Incorporation? Different Results in the Citigroup and AIG Shareholder Suits

 

It's an article of faith among many businesses and lawyers: Delaware. It doesn't matter what the question is. Where should you incorporate? What should the governing law of your contract be? 

Delaware! Delaware's good for business.

Right?

Not necessarily. Much ink has been spilled over why, exactly, businesses constantly incorporate in Delaware and/or insert Delaware into choice of law provisions in their contracts. Among the most common reasons is: Delaware has more developed and thus stable precedent than any other jurisdiction.

I'm not sure this reason stands even on its own merits. E.g., the law of malpractice and negligence is very well-developed and yet we still find plenty of legal issues to litigate, and still rarely settle until immediately before trial. 

This "stability" has long been under fire, most recently as noted by The Harvard Law School Corporate Governance Blog, addressing two recent Chancery Court opinions on shareholder suits against Citigroup and AIG:

These cases seem to support the claim by William Carney and George Shepherd in The Mystery of Delaware Law’s Continuing Success (William Carney & George Shepherd, 2009 U. ILL. L. REV. 1) that Delaware law is infected by costly indeterminacy. After these cases, where, exactly, does a duty of loyalty claim for breach ofCaremark duties stand?

The courts in these cases distinguished a claim that directors ignored the inadequate controls of patent business risks (Citigroup) from one that the directors ignored inadequate controls of insider wrongdoing (AIG). While these distinctions seem clear, and the cases seem rightly decided on their facts, the distinctions fray at the edges. Deliberately and knowingly ignoring either kind of risk can give rise to a claim. The defendants in Citigroup, even if careless, did not sink to that standard, while the AIG defendants did. So how does insider wrongdoing affect the determination? Must the flags be redder to trigger liability where there is no insider wrongdoing, but the risk could bring the company down? If so, how much redder? Is there a sliding scale for the degree of insider wrongdoing the defendants allegedly ignored. In AIG, the complaint supported an assertion that the insiders led, in Vice Chancellor Strine’s words, a “criminal organization.” Would the result be different if the alleged wrongdoing had been somewhat less pervasive? But does not the pervasiveness tie to the defendants’ knowledge, which leads back to square one?

 

In fairness, though, this does not necessarily support a criticism of Delaware law. As Chancellor Chandler wrote (with Anthony A. Rickey) in responding to Carney & Shepherd’s criticism in Manufacturing Mystery: A Response to Professors Carney and Shepherd’s “The Mystery of Delaware Law’s Continuing Success (2009 U. Ill. L. Rev. 95), Delaware is at least no more indeterminate than other jurisdictions.

Indeed, I argued in my own response to Carney & Shepherd, The Uncorporation and Corporate Indeterminacy, (2009 U. ILL. L. REV. 131), that indeterminacy is inherent in corporate law rather than specifically in Delaware jurisprudence. The solution is to turn to “uncorporate” law, which leads directly to my next two points.

 

Well said, and the whole post (as well as its references to Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz client memorandum posted here and Francis Pileggi's own comments here) are required-reading for those interested in shareholder derivative suits.

The overarching theme bears repeating -- the law is fundamentally "indeterminate." Businesses aren't going to be able to change that by just doing what every other business does because they think they should.

The problem is compounded by the way many businesses "choose" Delaware law, often in conjunction with an arbitration or choice of venue provision that ensures that Delaware law will be "applied" by a court or arbitrator with no experience in Delaware law. How "stable" and "determinate" can that possibly be?

 

Shareholder Suits Launched in the Merrill Lynch / Bank of America Fiasco - Who Fibbed, Thain or Lewis?

Kevin LaCroix at The D&O Diary delivers news that surprises no one, a securities class action based upon Bank of America's untimely disclosure of Merrill Lynch's catastrophic losses:

As has been well-publicized, within a matter of weeks of closing its acquisition of Merrill Lynch, Bank of America announced previously undisclosed 4Q08 operating losses at Merrill of $21.5 billion that required BofA to obtain an emergency $20 billion cash injection from the U.S. Treasury, as well as an additional $118 billion asset backstop. BofA’s stock market valuation has dropped more $100 billion since the day before the merger was announced through the company’s January 16 earnings release.

As the Wall Street Journal reported (here), questions immediately arose following BofA’s announcement of the Merrill losses, such as why BofA’s CEO Kenneth Lewis "didn’t discover the problems prior to the Sept. 15 deal announcement" and "why he didn’t disclose the losses prior to the vote on the Merrill deal on Dec. 5 or before closing the deal on Jan. 1."

With these kinds of questions circulating, it comes as no surprise that plaintiffs’ attorneys have initiated litigation. There were actually two different lawsuits announced on January 21, 2009 relating to these circumstances. Both of the lawsuits purport to be filed on behalf of persons who held BofA securities on October 10, 2008, the record date for the December 5, 2009 special meeting of shareholders to approve the merger.

LaCroix, no stranger to director and officer liability, has a thorough take on it, and Ideoblog raises the possibility of a "national interest" exception to securities disclosure laws due to the circumstances: on December 17, Lewis had become so concerned that he went to DC to meet with Bernanke and Paulson for guidance, both of whom, Lewis said, "[were] firmly of the view that terminating or delaying the closing...could result in serious systemic harm."

The Fed denied they requested Lewis to keep quiet. Either way, Lewis obviously knew of the trouble by the December 17 meeting with the Fed, but didn't report the losses publicly until Bank of America's next earnings statement on January 16. That's problematic.

The WSJ Law Blog also flags another action, this one brought by Susman Godfrey, alleging the same, with a particular paragraph of interest in their complaint:

As reported in The Wall Street Journal, just three days after shareholders voted to approve the merger, on December 8, 2008, Merrill’s CEO John Thain addressed a meeting of Merrill’s Board of Directors. Thain reported that Merrill suffered significant losses in November, which Thain described as one of the worse months in Wall Street history. Despite the size of these losses, Thain told Merrill’s board the losses were in line with BOA’s estimates. Neither BOA nor Merrill, nor any of the Individual Defendants, ever disclosed any such estimates . . . to their shareholders in the Proxy Statement. Likewise, no loss estimates were disclosed in any subsequent filings.

Ruh-roh!

  • September 15 -- Deal is reached. BoA and ML get to work on details.
  • October 31 -- Proxy statement issued to shareholders (you can find it here) in conjunction with the special meeting.
  • December 5 -- Special meeting of shareholders, who vote to approve the deal.
  • December 8 -- Thain tells ML board of significant losses in November, losses "in line with BOA's estimates."
  • "Mid December" -- Lewis learns of ML's losses.
  • December 17 -- Lewis meets with Bernanke and Paulson
  • January 16 --  BoA discloses losses to shareholders.

Lewis & Thain's stories are not consistent. Either:

  1. BoA didn't provide ML estimates like Thain suggested;
  2. Lewis didn't know about BoA's own estimates, even though Thain did; or,
  3. Lewis knew sbout ML's losses sometime significantly before December 8.

The plaintiffs are betting on #3, though they could make hay out of #2. It's hard to see how anyone could sue for #1 -- the BoA deal was the best thing that could have happened to ML, without which ML probably would have collapsed.

Of course, there's another issue here: both Bank of America and Merrill Lynch were effectively insolvent throughout the plaintiffs' class period. Both are completely dependent upon emergency government policies to stay operating, and the government has already stepped in to convert the messy merger into a complicated loan and guarantee program.

That is to say, anyone who bought shares of Bank of America in this time frame knew they were buying an effectively insolvent company, and the damages of the Merrill transaction may be, at most, to rearrange the form of Bank of America's insolvency -- possibly to its advantage.


(If you're not familiar with Section 14(a) shareholder class actions, there's a little background below the fold.)

 

The claims arise under Rule 14a-9, promulgated under Section 14(a) of the Securities Exchange Act of 1934.

No solicitation subject to this regulation shall be made by means of any proxy statement, form of proxy, notice of meeting or other communication, written or oral, containing any statement which, at the time and in the light of the circumstances under which it is made, is false or misleading with respect to any material fact, or which omits to state any material fact necessary in order to make the statements therein not false or misleading or necessary to correct any statement in any earlier communication with respect to the solicitation of a proxy for the same meeting or subject matter which has become false or misleading.

Bolding mine; that will be the crux of their claim. There does not seem to be any evidence that Bank of American knew the extent of Merrill Lynch's losses when it negotiated the merger nor when it issued the relevant proxy statement. Presumably, had Bank of America known the extent of the losses then, it likely would have demanded a lower price or would've called the whole thing off.

Then question is thus: when did Bank of America learn of Merrill Lynch's real problems, and when did BoA have a duty to reveal the losses?

That itself reveals a conceptual problem with securities cases in general. Rule 14a-9, like most securities regulations, creates a duty for companies to update their old statements as new information becomes available. Contrast that with some of the language contained in the registration statement itself:

The ability of either Bank of America or Merrill Lynch to predict results or the actual effects of its plans and strategies, or those of the combined company, is subject to inherent uncertainty. Factors that may cause actual results or earnings to differ materially from such forward-looking statements include those set forth on page 23 under “Risk Factors,” as well as, among others, the following:
 
     •   those discussed and identified in public filings with the SEC made by Bank of America or Merrill Lynch; ...
 
   •   the extent and duration of continued economic and market disruptions and governmental regulatory proposals to address these disruptions;
 
   •   the merger may be more expensive to complete than anticipated, including as a result of unexpected factors or events;

The "Risk Factors" similarly notes:

The opinions obtained by Merrill Lynch and Bank of America from their respective financial advisors will not reflect changes in circumstances between signing the merger agreement and the merger.

(Emphasis in original).

So to reword our question above: when did Bank of America have a duty to update a statement about the merger agreement it had previously warned would not be updated prior to the merger? Did it ever have that duty?

If, say, Lewis really didn't know of ML's losses until after the December 5 vote, what duties would it have with regard to updating the proxy statement it specifically issued for that vote? Why, for example, would it be wrong for BoA to wait until its next earnings statement to reveal the newfound losses?

Just a tip of the iceberg in the complicated world of securities regulation...

An Ounce of Prevention: Dismissal Upheld In Derivative Suit Because of Independent Inquiry

I so often see the Board of Directors at a company acting badly that it’s almost is heartening to see things done the right way.

After a protracted period of familial disputes over the company, including a prior lawsuit, one side sent a Demand Letter, as is proper, alleging various Board members “breached their fiduciary duties and engaged in wrongful, self-serving and bad faith acts and omissions … which have resulted in catastrophic injury to [the Company] and corresponding and substantial loss of value to [the challenger’s] stock [in the Company].”

That prompted a Board Meeting where:

Attorney Sonnenfeld discussed the Demand Letter, corresponding ALI Principles, and the duty of care owed by the board to respond to the Demand Letter. He advised, 'evaluation of the demand should be made by independent and disinterested directors.' At that point, [the Members accused of wrongdoing] were excused from the meeting. 'The meeting continued, attended by the independent and disinterested Directors … ' At that point, Attorney Sonnenfeld discussed the proper formation of a special litigation committee to address the issues in the Demand Letter. He advised that such committee retain independent counsel 'to develop a response to the demand letter' and he provided a preliminary list of candidates and their qualifications. He further 'discussed the possible role and functions of the Committee in conjunction with the independent counsel.' "

Lemenestrel v. Warden, 2008 PA Super 295 (Pa. Super. Ct. 2008)(emphasis added).

The company then hired independent counsel to perform an internal investigation of the claims, who concluded “there was no basis or evidence upon which to support a suit by the Company against the Wardens and that, therefore, pursuing those claims through litigation would not be in the best interests of the Company.”

Since the Board followed all the appropriate procedures, the Superior Court upheld the Court of Common Pleas’ holding that the Board’s decision not to pursue litigation was protected under the business judgment rule:

'Decisions regarding litigation by or on behalf of a corporation, including shareholder derivative actions, are business decisions as much as any other financial decision. As such, they are within the province of the board of directors.' The Cuker Court cautioned that, 'if a court makes a preliminary determination that a business decision was made under proper circumstances, however that concept is currently defined, then the business judgment rule prohibits the court from going further and examining the merits of the underlying business decision.' In other words: 'Without considering the merits of the action, a court should determine the validity of the board's decision to terminate the litigation; if that decision was made in accordance with the appropriate standards, then the court should dismiss the derivative action prior to litigation on the merits.'

Id., citing Cuker v. Mikalauskas, 547 Pa. 600, 692 A.2d 1042 (Pa. 1997), which adopted The American Law Institute's Principles of Corporate Governance: Analysis and Recommendations ("ALI Principles"), particularly sections 7.07-7.10 and 7.13.

I'm sure the internal investigation was both a substantial burden on time and attention and a considerable expense, but look what it accomplished. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

 

Does A Company Have To Have A Document Retention Policy? Apple Doesn't Have One.

Slashdot led me to this erroneous article at The Industry Standard:

According to a recent legal filing (see page 7) in the Psystar vs Apple antitrust case, Apple employees are responsible for maintaining their own documents such as emails, memos, and voicemails. In other words, there is no company-wide policy for archiving, saving, or deleting these documents.

...

An e-discovery lawyer, who asked not to be named because his employer (a firm you probably have heard of) doesn't want him speaking to the press, explained the basic legal requirements surrounding email and document retention to The Standard. "If litigation is anticipated, the party has a duty to preserve potentially relevant documents," he said.

"An employee retention program with no organization or coordination is effectively incapable of compliance," he continued, "barring an act of God, or luck akin to picking every game right in an NCAA pool. Apple's retention policy is negligent."

(Emphasis added). I dissent. Apple did have a policy once the litigation was anticipated:

... Apple claims in the Psystar document that its policy is fine because once the company anticipated litigation:

[Apple] identified a group of employees who could potentially have documents relevant to the issues reasonably evident in this action. Apple then provided those individuals with a document retention notice which included a request for the retention of any relevant documents.

I think the problem here is that the lawyer and/or reporter presumed that, in the absence of a company-enforced "litigation hold" on documents, the employees would not or could not comply fully with that hold.

But that's because they presume Apple works like most companies, destroying documents and files as quickly as they can so as not to leave evidence of anything, thereby (they hope) frustrating plaintiffs' cases.

Yet, as noted by the article itself, Apple also had no deletion policy. As such, relevant documents are likely scattered all over their systems in multiple places, many easily accessible, and, "As a general rule, then, a party need not preserve all backup tapes even when it reasonably anticipates litigation." Zubulake, see below.

Apple would likely be able to preserve most of the relevant and unique information by duplicating their internal servers and instructing the key officers and employees to duplicate and produce any documents that could be relevant.

If carried out honestly, such an ad hoc policy would probably work better than most corporate litigation hold "policies," in which the company deliberately retains a pile of useless garbage to dump on the plaintiff's lawyers while also failing to instruct those unaware of the litigation to take reasonable preservation steps.

The duty to preserve is for most companies not that complicated: once a company is aware of litigation, the company should put automatic destruction policies on hold and instruct relevant employees not to destroy anything until the company can find a way to preserve everything that might be relevant to the litigation. Here's how Zubulake, the Tale of Genji for electronic discovery, described it:

anyone who anticipates being a party or is a party to a lawsuit must not destroy unique, relevant evidence that might be useful to an adversary. While a litigant is under no duty to keep or retain every document in its possession . . . it is under a duty to preserve what it knows, or reasonably should know, is relevant in the action, is reasonably calculated to lead to the discovery of admissible evidence, is reasonably likely to be requested during discovery and/or is the subject of a pending discovery request.

Zubulake v. UBS Warburg LLC, 220 F.R.D. 212, 217 (S.D.N.Y. 2003).

Aside from case law, there's no explicit rule or statute on preservation; one could do worse than following this modified Federal criminal obstruction of justice statute, 18 U.S.C. § 1519:

Whoever knowingly, reckless or negligently alters, destroys, mutilates, conceals, covers up, falsifies, or makes a false entry in any record, document, or tangible object with the intent to, or which has the effect to, impede, obstruct, or influence [civil litigation of which they are aware] shall be subject to sanctions, fines, adverse inference, and humiliation by trial lawyers.

That's a good rule unless, of course, the company was doing something wrong and intends to hide it, in which case they will start coming up with sneaky ways to pretend to comply with the rules while destroying everything detrimental to their defense.

But beware: even without evidence of intentional destruction, if a plaintiff's lawyer catches a company fooling around with document retention and failing to keep important documents, the plaintiff's lawyer will use it as an excuse to argue the missing documents say whatever the plaintiff's lawyer wants them to say.

Revolving Door of Corporate Boards? Try Merry-Go-Round.

In response to shareholder upheaval, billions in losses, and a 60% fall in stock price, CitiGroup completely revamps its Board of Directors:
Board member John Deutch, who previously held no chairmanships, has been named to lead the audit and risk committee, Citigroup said in a July 22 press release. Richard Parsons, former chair of the compensation committee, will head the nomination committee, while former nomination panel chair Alain Belda will lead the compensation committee.
Whoa, there, slow down. That's a lot of change for just a year of failure.

Thank goodness they'll wait another year or two and see how it goes before rocking the boat again.

That's why "I still believe there will be a continuing move to private equity, [with] a corresponding rise in intra-company commercial litigation and arbitration there, as I wrote before."

W.D. of Pennsylvania Applies Demand Requirement to Shareholder Suit

If you are bringing a shareholder derivative suit, always make a demand:
The Complaint in this shareholder derivative action was filed on May 6, 2008, along with a motion for a temporary restraining order and preliminary injunction.  [*4] The Complaint asserts claims for breach of fiduciary duty, abuse of control, corporate waste, unjust enrichment and gross mismanagement, alleging that the Defendants, consisting of the entire Alcoa Board of Directors as well as certain senior executives and agents, breached their fiduciary duties to Alcoa  by participating in and/or failing to prevent the misconduct alleged in the Alba Action. All of the claims are derivative in nature. In connection with its action, Plaintiff also sought a TRO and preliminary injunction enjoining any Alcoa Directors or officers identified as subjects or targets of the DOJ investigation from participating in Board decisions relating to Alcoa's response to the investigation and any criminal charges ensuing therefrom.
Serious stuff! Oops:
The vast majority of Plaintiff's opposition to the motion to dismiss discusses allegations as to whether Alcoa's Board, the Special Committee appointed by the Board, and its counsel, are sufficiently independent to properly evaluate a demand. (See Pl. Opp. Br. at 10-19.) In the context of Defendants' motion to dismiss for failure to make a pre-suit demand, this discussion is wholly irrelevant. I reiterate: had Plaintiff made a demand on the Board back in late March or April, it may now have been in a position to raise these arguments. However, having chosen not to make a demand, Plaintiff must lie in the bed that it has made.
Note also the heavy reliance on the ALI Principles, which I noted earlier:
In furtherance of these principles, and to assist trial courts in their application, the Pennsylvania Supreme Court adopted certain provisions of 2 ALI, Principles of Corporate Governance: Analysis and Recommendations (1994), specifically sections 7.02 (standing), 7.03 (the demand requirement), 7.04 (procedure in derivative action), 7.05 (board authority in derivative action), 7.06 (judicial stay of derivative action), 7.07, 7.08, and 7.09 (dismissal of derivative actions), 7.10 (standard of judicial review), and 7.13 (judicial  [*15] procedures).
Hawaii Structural Ironworkers Pension Trust Fund, Derivatively on Behalf of Alcoa, Inc. vs. Alain J.P. Belda, et al., 2008 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 52888 (July 9, 2008).

Shareholder Activism and the "Eclipse of the Public Corporation"

Martin Lipton, who knows a thing or two about corporations, presents:

On June 25, I presented a paper entitled “Shareholder Activism and the “Eclipse of the Public Corporation”: Is the Current Wave of Activism Causing Another  Tectonic Shift in the American Corporate World?” at the 2008 Directors Forum of The University of Minnesota Law School. The paper discusses the pressures that have been pervasively eroding the centrality of the board of directors and transforming its role in the governance structure of public companies, with the end game being a new conception of the corporate organization. Against the backdrop of the subprime and leveraged loan financial crisis and other recent events, the paper addresses what I regard as the crux of the issue affecting public companies today: whether the institution of the corporate board can cope with these pressures and survive as the vital governing organ of public companies. Or, will a forced migration from director-centric governance to shareholder-centric governance, along with a concomitant transformation of the role of the board from guiding and advising management to ensuring compliance and performing due diligence, simply overwhelm American business corporations?

I say the latter, and that's why so many companies have gone private lately. The paper is available here. For reference, he notes what he thought a year and a half ago:

That is, while the public corporation would continue, it would be eclipsed by a new corporate form: the privately owned corporation that uses public and private debt, rather than public equity, as the major source of capital. Since the time I gave that speech, however, the subprime and leveraged loan financial crisis has significantly altered the corporate landscape.

The paper's worth a read, not least to see what one of the most-informed corporate thinkers has on his mind. Here's part of the conclusion:

At its core, the board-centric model of governance is premised on the notion that boards merit the vote of confidence of shareholders and the public markets, ...

That's the same thing I was thinking as I read the paper. Here's how he finishes that sentence:

and notwithstanding the strong current of distrust that runs through many corporate  governance reforms, history has proven this vote of confidence to be well deserved.

He has one piece of particularly strong evidence: in general, public corporations have done very well, returning 8-12% annually. But the idea has always been a little crazy.

Think of your typical pension fund investor and just how far removed they are from the actual use of their money in a basic corporation with minimal management structure. The investor gives their money to the pension fund (1) which purchases a moderate amount of control over the selection of a board of directors (2) that monitors and reviews the work of executives (3) who command their subordinates (4) to manage employees (5) actually working to make a return. Odds are, the investor could get closer to the employees on the ground by playing six degrees of separation.

That system was bound to come apart at some time. I think the information revolution of the past 20 years has finally made it happen by enabling detailed accounting and review of these massive organizations; trust is no long essential, it's merely good. Further, the Internet has increased the speed at which the market reacts, thus raising the stakes even further for investors, who now will only have a very small window in which to escape if internal misconduct becomes public. That's important because the desire to flee is strongly contradicted by the evidence that waiting out the market can trash traditional buy-and-hold strategies (e.g., missing the best ten months between small company stocks between 1925 and 1992 slashed gains from 12% to 6%).

In this day and age, investors can easily feel their money is trapped by a large public corporation.

So what's next? I think the information revolution will continue its course. Just as it is now possible to quickly do a wholesale accounting and review of a massive international corporation, it is also possible -- or at least soon will be possible -- for investors to keep close tabs on private corporations, even without the benefits of the openness and the economies of scale that come with public trading.

I thus foresee over the next few years growth in mid-size and large private corporations where the investors have extensive access to the records in real-time; perhaps not the same level as in a small private company, but far more than investors and public companies now have. We've already started to see that trend with the recent explosion of private equity groups like Blackstone.

What does it mean for lawyers? Well, it's hard to dispute that securities class actions have become tightly regulated. The Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1996 shrank the market for securities class actions, narrowing the field of plaintiff and defense lawyers while also tightening those claims to the ones with the strongest pre-litigation proof. There is thus simply less demand for securities class action work.

The private equity boom will go in the opposite direction. The marketplace for private companies with a large number of investors is unsettled and barely regulated, which makes for lawsuits. Most likely, the less-savvy companies will be thrown together with generic LLC agreements that fail to address a number of issues (always fertile ground for lawsuits) while the more-savvy ones will send everything to arbitration, where such disputes probably should be anyway. The truly savvy investors will submit to arbitration (to get faster results on valid claims), but will extract heavy concessions for it, like clauses permitting them extensive records review.

So who will fill that demand? Will securities class action attorneys start looking towards pushing fraud and similar claims through arbitration, or will commercial litigators move from ordinary inter-company breach of contract to intra-company shareholder and ownership disputes? Since few investors will be prepared to start shelling out serious funds it would require to prosecute these actions, I bet the former will probably have more of an impact than the latter, given how they are better suited structurally and temperamentally for plaintiff's work on a contingency basis.