Saturday, November 22, 2014
I have something of a follow-up to Haskell's earlier post.
While companies like Wal-Mart will be open on Thanksgiving - a decision that has garnered no small amount of public criticism- others have conspicuously declared that they will be closed, in order to allow their employees to spend time with their families.
Now, you can call this a sincere commitment to employees' well-being if you like, but my cynical brain views this as a standard share value-maximizing decision - whether management has decided that adverse publicity would harm the brand, or that employees who get holidays off are less likely to agitate for higher wages, or that regulators are less likely to step in if the business makes some minimal concessions to employee welfare, it's still a decision that's about benefitting the bottom line. If nothing else, it can be cast that way - which is precisely why, precisely as has been frequently argued on this blog, it's difficult to understand why the separate concept of a benefit corporation is necessary, except to the extent it represents the ultimate in marketing commitment. Or maybe some corporate directors just don't want to have to come up with a shareholder-value-maximizing lie about the reasons for their decisions, even if it would be easy to do.
The Thanksgiving-holiday debate also fascinates me because of the way in which it calls to mind Hillary Sale's concept of corporate "publicness" - the idea that corporations, as large and powerful actors in society, are viewed as public institutions, and suffer when they fail to conduct their affairs with that understanding. The corporations that have declared that they will not be open on Thanksgiving seem to be responding to this "publicness" concept.
But that just raises the question, how much does "publicness" represent anything different than the types of pressures that have always existed to force corporations to behave as better corporate "citizens"? Corporations have always had to fear that customers or employees would turn against them, or regulators would try to control them, if they did not behave appropriately; why are today's corporations any different?
Perhaps it's simply because modern corporations are too powerful to regulate via traditional mechanisms. Public shaming and appeals to (certian classes of) shareholders appear to be the only levers of control available - or, at the very least, in a world where it is expected that regulation is unnecessary, scrutiny of corporations as public actors is a natural response. Mariana Pargendler argues that corporate governance has only arisen as an important issue in corporate theorizing as a result of the deregulatory bent of modern America - because there is no political appetite for direct regulation, people who would prefer direct regulation instead turn to corporate governance arguments as a second-best solution for controlling corporate behavior.
I suspect this is accurate. Once upon a time, if we were concerned that workers were being unfairly pressured to work over the holidays, we might consider using direct regulation to remedy the problem. Today, the idea seems extremely remote, if not utterly impossible. Public shaming seems the only viable alternative, in hopes that either shareholders or customers will display enough distaste for corporate policies that managers decide to voluntarily reform.
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Back in 2011, Judge Rakoff famously delivered a blistering indictment of the SEC's enforcement tactics when he rejected the SEC's settlement with Citigroup over a CDO alleged to have been designed to fail.
The decision was immediately appealed (and ultimately reversed), but was pending before the Second Circuit for over two years. During that time, other district judges followed Rakoff's lead, scrutinizing the SEC's settlements more closely.
Judge Rakoff's criticism was incredibly influential, or perhaps just captured a zeitgeist regarding the lack of serious sanctions against large financial institutions in the wake of the mortgage crisis - the SEC even announced it would revise its "no admit-no deny" settlement policy as a result.
After the Second Circuit reversed Judge Rakoff, he reluctantly approved the Citigroup settlement - but with a footnote warning (1) that the SEC would simply bring more cases administratively to avoid any court review at all, and (2) that such administrative decisions might be unconstitutional.
Judge Rakoff seems a bit prescient in that respect, because the SEC has openly stated it plans to bring more administrative cases - and the data shows that's apparently a smart move, since its administrative judges, at least recently, deliver victories to the Commission 100% of the time. (I can't tell whether the data controlled for the types of cases likely to be brought administratively versus in court). Meanwhile, Judge Rakoff has continued to criticize the SEC - most recently in a speech lamenting the trend toward administrative trials, in part because federal appellate review is deferential.
Most recently, Justice Scalia, joined by Justice Thomas, penned a statement respecting a denial of certiorari in an insider trading case, in which he openly challenged the notion that the SEC may administratively interpret a statute in a manner that deserves deference from courts enforcing the crininal laws. That argument may be a bit far afield from Judge Rakoff's legally, but the policy concerns are similar - Judge Rakoff, too, extolled the virtues of having a federal court oversee the agency's conduct and guide the development of the law.
(One can't help but notice that this argument seems to have no purchase when private plaintiffs make it in reaction to boilerplate arbitration agreements concerning statutory claims. But I digress.)
To be sure, there are obvious distinctions between these issues. After all, the SEC's decision to bring cases administratively may just be a function of new powers granted to it after Dodd-Frank, and may not reflect any desire to avoid scrutiny by judges like Rakoff. Moreover, the new administrative cases do not concern mortgage-misconduct or even the misconduct of big banks - many involve insider trading, like the case that inspired Justice Scalia's statement. Finally, Justice Scalia's statement goes well beyond the SEC, and could potentially extend to many administrative agencies.
Nonetheless, it's very hard not to suspect that Rakoff and other judges of his ilk play some role in the SEC's calculus when deciding where to prosecute a case. And the throughline of all of this, for me, is that the criticisms of the SEC all look like variations on the ongoing accusation that the SEC (and federal prosecutors) prefer easy wins in insider trading cases to aggressive policing of large financial institutions. (It is, in a way, the same debate that is dividing the Commission right now regarding penalties to be imposed on Bank of America for crisis-related misconduct.) Judge Janice Rogers Brown on the DC Circuit just yesterday delievered a similar attack on the SEC, writing that more accountability and openness is required because "Financial institutions and their regulators now frequently operate under a haze of public distrust fueled by repeated regulatory failures and massive, opaque and unaccountable bailouts. The public now has good reason to doubt the rigor of our financial systems’ reliability and oversight."
So I can't help but wonder how much Judge Rakoff's attack in 2011 is continuing to reverberate throughout the system.
I also have to say, the questions posed in the Scalia opinion are fascinating. There has long been a palpable tension in courts' interpretation of Section 10(b) between their desire to narrow the statute for private claims, and their desire to broaden it for SEC claims. In Stoneridge Investment Partners v. Scientific-Atlanta (2008), for example, the Supreme Court dismissed the plaintiffs' Section 10(b) claims by focusing on the element of reliance - applicable in private actions but not SEC actions - which set up a significant divide between the types of conduct that can form the basis of private actions, versus the types of conduct the SEC can target. The Fourth Circuit then started on a path of interpreting the statute differently for criminal claims (one suspects because it was really trying to distinguish government from private, rather than civil from criminal).
If Justice Scalia's argument wins the day, will we see a proliferation of interpretations of 10(b) - public civil, criminal, and private?
Saturday, November 8, 2014
On Tuesday, in my Financial Crisis seminar, we discussed the types of securities claims that have been filed by investors in mortgage-backed securities. I opened by telling my students that one of the critical takeaway points is the importance of civil procedure. The substance of the law matters, sure, but (as I posted when discussing class action standing), cases are won and lost on procedural grounds.
Case in point: Omnicare, Inc. v. Laborers District Council Construction Industry Pension Fund, which was argued before the Supreme Court on Monday. (Transcript here.) Omnicare concerns the question of opinion-falsity in the context of claims under Section 11 of the Securities Act of 1933.
Section 11 of the Securities Act imposes strict liability on issuers who include false statements of material fact in registration statements. In a case called Virginia Bankshares, Inc. v. Sandberg, the Supreme Court held that even expressions of opinion may count as “material facts” for the purposes of the securities laws – such as, for example, a proxy statement that recommends a merger as “fair” to shareholders. In Omnicare, the Supreme Court will decide what, exactly, it means for a statement of opinion to be false. Essentially, the dispute is about whether a statement of opinion is only false if it is subjectively disbelieved by the speaker (i.e., if the speaker claims a price is “fair” while secretly believing the price is not fair) or whether a statement of opinion can be false even if the speaker believes it to be true, but the opinion lacks a basis in fact (i.e., the speaker genuinely believes the price to be fair, but has not made any investigation into fairness and so the opinion lacks a factual basis).
Monday's oral argument had a lot of back and forth about specific states of mind and various types of implied representations. After all, when you issue an opinion in the context of a securities offering, isn’t there an implied factual representation that you have a basis for that opinion, that’s independent of the speaker’s state of mind? On the other hand, if a statement does lack a factual basis, isn’t that strong evidence of subjective disbelief?
And while all of these are interesting existential questions, the really important issue – and what oral argument touched upon – is pleading.
The question of opinion-falsity tends to come up in three different types of private claims under the securities laws.
First, it comes up in the context of Section 11, which imposes strict liability for false statements in registration statements.
Second, it comes up in the context of Section 14, which imposes liability for false statements in proxy statements. Most circuits have held that Section 14 liability is rooted in negligence.
Third, it comes up in the context of Section 10(b), which imposes liability for intentionally or recklessly false statements in connection with securities transactions.
Because Section 10(b) requires a showing of scienter, the issues in Omnicare are largely rendered moot for claims under that statute – the plaintiff will have to show intentional or reckless behavior anyway, so “subjective disbelief” gets folded into the scienter inquiry.
Where the “subjective disbelief” issue really makes a difference, therefore, is in the context of Section 11 and Section 14.
Section 14 claims are subject to the heightened pleading requirements of the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act. That statute requires that plaintiffs plead, with particularity, facts creating a “strong inference” that the defendant acted with the required state of mind. Some courts have held that negligence is not a state of mind, so this provision does not apply; even if it is, it's often not a difficult one to plead, even under the PSLRA.
Section 11 claims are not subject to heightened pleading under the PSLRA – they are subject to ordinary standards under the Federal Rules. Normally, because Section 11 is a strict liability statute, plaintiffs need only plead claims in accordance with Rule 8. But most circuits agree that when a Section 11 claim “sounds in fraud” – when the plaintiffs seem to be claiming that defendants’ actions were intentional or reckless – then Section 11 claims will be subject to Rule 9(b) pleading standards. And though there’s a circuit split on the issue, many courts would agree that Rule 9(b) also requires that plaintiffs plead facts giving rise to a “strong inference” of fraud.
If “subjective disbelief” is required to show opinion-falsity, courts are likely to treat that as the equivalent of fraudulent intent, and require heightened pleading for Section 11 and Section 14 claims.
Moreover, for securities claims, all discovery is stayed pending the resolution of a motion to dismiss. That means that the plaintiffs must not only plead fraudulent intent in great detail, but they must also do so without discovery.
The upshot of all of this is that one of the most significant aspects of Omnicare isn't what it means for an opinion to be false, and it isn't the duties imposed on issuers of securities – it’s whether plaintiffs bringing claims under Section 11 and Section 14 are going to be subject to heightened pleading requirements. This is especially true because the boundaries between what counts as “opinion” and what counts as “fact” are very fuzzy – a point that was made in oral argument. After all, as I previously posted, the Second Circuit believes that even financial statements are only “opinions.” If just about anything can be considered an opinion, a requirement that opinions be "subjectively disbelieved" will functionally raise the pleading standards for Section 11 and Section 14 claims across the board.
(Now, the Second Circuit also tried to stake out an odd middle ground, holding both that opinion statements must be “subjectively disbelieved” to be false, and that this “subjective disbelief” is something other than fraudulent intent. That holding has caused much confusion in the district courts, and it’s difficult to imagine a similar holding coming out of the Omnicare case; and even if Omnicare dodges that point, if the Court holds that "subjective disbelief" is required, the Second Circuit's view is going to come under considerable pressure.)
In other words, the sleeper issue in this case isn't the substance of the law - it's procedure.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
(demonstrating that variety isn't always a good thing)
Well, Halloween was yesterday, but the chocolate-y remains will last for ... at least another 5 3 2 hours. Which brings me to this article on how, despite increases in chocolate prices, sales of chocolate continue to rise:
Chocolate candy sales for last Halloween hit $217 million, up 12 percent from the year before, the consumer market research firm Packaged Facts reported in September. For all of 2013, the American market for chocolate grew 4 percent, to $21 billion in sales. But chocolate lovers took a hit this summer, when Hershey and Mars announced price increases of 8 percent and 7 percent... But don’t expect higher prices to dampen sales, analysts said....
Chocolate makers have also adopted a marketing strategy that is increasingly driving sales: the variety bag, a single package filled with several different types of bars. Mars said sales of the variety bag it introduced a few years ago (with Milky Ways, Three Musketeers and such) grew by 14.5 percent in 2012, accounting for 54 percent of its total Halloween sales growth, and have remained strong.
Scientists who research how our brains respond to food have another term for variety: the smorgasbord effect (as in stuffing yourself at Chinese buffets). Studies show that we quickly acclimate to any food or flavor we’re eating, causing the brain to register a feeling of fullness. Variety delays this process by keeping food exciting.
Okay, look, I'm not denying that we habituate to certain flavors, or that variety packs can introduce consumers to things they wouldn't otherwise buy. But people buy big bags of smaller candies for a reason: To distribute. And in that context, they like variety not because they get bored with one flavor, but because as a Halloween candy-giver, you want to give trick-or-treaters a choice. You never know which kid will hate almonds or love dark chocolate or which kid (uh, kid, yes, we'll go with kid) treats peanut butter cups as a meal replacement. Variety packs are an easy way of making sure you offer the best treats in the apartment complex no matter who shows up at your door. I'd rather buy two variety bags than 10 bags of different single-type candies just to give trick or treaters a choice.
I mean, if I bought 10 bags of candies to make sure I catered to every kid's idiosyncratic tastes, I'd have the equivalent of 8 bags left over. Which would be... terrible.
Yes. Terrible. That's totally the word I was looking for.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Minor Myers and Charles Korsmo have a new paper that compares fiduciary duty merger litigation to appraisal litigation to determine whether fiduciary duty claims add any value for shareholders.
After scrutinizing takeover challenges between 2004 and 2013, they find that the larger the deal, the more likely it is to be targeted in a fiduciary duty class action. By contrast, whether there is a smaller merger premium – regardless of deal size – does not appear to be correlated with class action litigation. Appraisal litigation, however, works differently; plaintiffs who bring appraisal claims tend to do so when the merger premium is low, regardless of deal size.
They also found that fiduciary suits are not associated with an increase in merger consideration. I.e., they do not generate statistically significant benefits to shareholders.
Myers and Korsmo conclude from this that fiduciary duty class actions are not usually based on merit, and that such actions are brought for their nuisance value. They recommend changes to the structure of fiduciary litigation, such as allowing investors who acquire stock after the deal announcement to serve as lead plaintiff, and switching to an opt-in model.
But there’s a wrinkle that comes in the form of a paper by C.N.V. Krishnan, Steven Davidoff Solomon, and Randall S. Thomas. That paper compares fiduciary merger litigation brought by different plaintiffs’ firms, and concludes that not all firms are created equal. Specifically, the top plaintiffs’ firms target more suspicious transactions, and when the litigation is controlled by these firms, the class members are more likely to win an increase in merger consideration. They also find that top firms prosecute actions more vigorously, in measurable ways.
Obviously, these two papers, put together, raise an interesting question: what would happen if the Myers/Korsmo study were conducted with a view to the identity of the lead plaintiff’s law firm? Would they see the same results? And if the problem here is just that there are better and worse law firms, is that something that can be addressed via more exacting standards for the award of attorneys’ fees?
(Okay, full disclosure - one of the top plaintiffs' firms in the Krishnan et al study is my former firm, BLBG. But hey, I didn't do the study - I'm just reporting the results.)
Saturday, October 18, 2014
The Columbia Journalism Review blog reports:
Since 2008, one particular federal government agency has aggressively investigated leaks to the media, examining some one million emails sent by nearly 300 members of its staff, interviewing some 100 of its own employees and trolling the phone records of scores more. It’s not the CIA, the Department of Justice or the National Security Agency.
It’s the Securities and Exchange Commission. …
All that effort was for naught. Despite the time and resources that have been poured into them, none of the SEC’s eight investigations in the past six years have uncovered the leakers.…
The article further points out that the SEC’s pursuit of leakers has ramped up in the wake of the financial crisis, and it has no problem with leaks (if you call them “leaks”) when the leaks make the agency look good.
The SEC’s argument is that it needs to protect against the release of market moving information, and I'm quite sympathetic to that point, but the leaks involved here seem to be at least in part about concealing internal problems or dissension within the agency.
Considering how at least two Commissioners have recently spoken out about their dissatisfaction with the SEC’s enforcement efforts (not to mention the best SEC speech ever), I tend to be sympathetic to the argument that sunlight - or at least less intimidation - is in order.
(Also, if they can't catch their own leakers.... )
Saturday, October 11, 2014
One of the most complex issues in Section 10(b) litigation concerns loss causation, i.e., the question whether the fraud ultimately resulted in a loss to the plaintiffs.
The reason loss causation is so complex is because companies rarely simply admit to wrongdoing, out of the blue. Most of the time, the "truth" behind the fraud - whatever that truth may be - is revealed gradually or indirectly. The first revelations concerning an accounting fraud, for example, might simply be a drop in earnings, as the company tries to "make up" for past premature revenue recognition without admitting to wrongdoing. A company might announce a slowdown in product sales without ever admitting that it had previously lied about the product's features. A key officer might resign without explanation. And very often, the first rumblings of a problem come from the announcement of a government investigation - without any further details - that may or may not ultimately culminate in an enforcement action.
In response to any of these announcements, the company might experience a stock price drop, even though the market either is unaware of the possibility of fraud or uncertain as to whether a fraud exists and/or its scope. In such situations, can the fraud be said to have "caused" a loss?
In a pair of decisions by the Fifth and Ninth Circuits, it appears that whether such early warning signals constitute "loss causation" depends very much on what happened later.
[More under the cut]
Saturday, October 4, 2014
As I previously posted, this semester I’m co-teaching a seminar with an old law school friend, Tanya Marsh (well, seminar-ish – we ended up with 17 students) on the financial crisis.
A couple of weeks ago, I dedicated a class to the concept of “regulation by deal” – inspired Steven Davidoff Solomon and David Zaring’s article with that title. We talked about how Treasury and the Fed used dealmaking approaches to save individual firms, and thus the economy as a whole, and the corporate law issues that the government’s approach raised (lots of great inspiration also came from Marcel Kahan and Edward Rock’s When the Government is the Controlling Shareholder). I assigned excerpts of the Regulation by Deal article, as well excerpts from the complaint filed by Fannie & Freddie shareholders, the AIG complaint, and the SIGTARP report on AIG’s payments to counterparties. We also talked about the mergers between JP Morgan and Bear Stearns, and between Bank of America and Merrill Lynch.
Well, it was lucky timing, because that class – by sheer happenstance – was scheduled just before the AIG trial began, and then earlier this week, the Fannie & Freddie complaint was dismissed. So now I have even more to talk about with the students.
One point I see in a lot of the commentary on the AIG trial is that the shareholders’ claims are pretty weak, but at least the trial itself will shed some light on one of the unanswered questions about the crisis, namely, why did Geithner and the NY Fed agree to pay AIG’s CDS counterparties 100 cents on the dollar, instead of demanding that they take a haircut? I.e., one of AIG's major problems was that it had sold credit default swaps (CDS) on mortgage-backed assets held by a number of banks - it had sold insurance, essentially, against a drop in value of those assets. AIG promised to pay out if those assets failed. And when asset values began falling, the counterparties demanded that AIG post collateral - and those demands contributed to AIG's liquidity crisis. To solve that problem, the NY Fed bought the assets underlying the CDS contracts - allowing the counterparties (banks like Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, etc) to collect 100 cents on the dollar for assets that were, at the time, pretty toxic.
This is, of course, the subject of the SIGTARP report, which concluded that the decision was not particularly well thought out, but was essentially foreordained by the NY Fed’s own self-imposed restrictions on its behavior, which limited its ability to apply any leverage in negotiations.
Among other things, the NY Fed was uncomfortable using its status as regulator to extract concessions on the CDS contracts when it was acting as a creditor of AIG, a more “private” sort of role.
(Also, the phrase phrase “sanctity of contracts” appears so many times in the SIGTARP report that I wondered if I was going to start seeing graven idols. But that’s me.)
The problem, of course, was that the NY Fed refused to use its regulatory power while wearing its "private creditor" hat, but at the same time, it also refused to truly behave as a private creditor - making it neither fish nor fowl. For example, a private actor might have threatened bankruptcy – which the NY Fed was unwilling to do because, in its role as regulator, it could not allow AIG to declare bankruptcy. A private actor would have been fine with striking different deals with different counterparties – which again, the NY Fed as regulator was unwilling to do, allowing any one counterparty to veto deals with the others.
And perhaps even more strikingly to me as a former litigator, the NY Fed also agreed not to sue any of the counterparties for fraud/misrepresentation. That doesn’t strike me as anything like what a private actor would have done – which we know for a fact, given lawsuits filed by entitles like MBIA and Syncora. A private actor could have at least demanded concessions in exchange for not filing a lawsuit – claiming, say, that the counterparties misrepresented the quality of the mortgages backing the assets – and dragging the matter out in court for years. But the last thing the NY Fed as regulator wanted was that kind of publicity.
Anyway, however it shakes out, it'll make for a fun follow-up class.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Today, the Supreme Court DIG'd (dismissed as improvidently granted) the cert petition in the Section 11 case of IndyMac, which means we will not, at least for now, get resolution on the issue of whether American Pipe tolling applies to statutes of repose.
To be honest, I'm really not surprised. The DIG was apparently in response to an announcement of a settlement of most of the IndyMac claims, but that's a bit odd, since the parties all agreed that the settlement left alive enough claims to render the case not moot (specifically, the plaintiffs' claims against Goldman Sachs would proceed if the plaintiffs prevailed before the Supreme Court).
But as I previously posted, I think IndyMac was in an awkward procedural posture to begin with. Not because the split wasn't real, but because the entire issue regarding the statute of repose was necessarily intertwined with prior unsettled issues regarding class action standing and the scope of Rule 15c. Frankly, I can't help but wonder if the Justices saw the settlement as an excuse to get rid of a bad grant, and they grabbed it.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
In the meantime, several companies have adopted such bylaws, although some early challenges to the bylaws ended up being settled before courts could rule on their validity. J Robert Brown at Race-to-the-Bottom blog reports that a company just went public with a fee shifting charter provision in place (the provision purports to cover securities claims as well as governance claims, but, as I previously posted, I don't think that's possible).
Most interestingly, Oklahoma recently passed a law requiring "loser pays" rules for all derivative litigation. Which certainly creates an opportunity for a natural experiment in the idea of the market for corporate charters - will companies flock to Oklahoma? Will investors pressure managers to stay out of Oklahoma (or to go to Oklahoma, if they doubt the value of derivative litigation)?
Stephen Bainbridge reports that the SEC's Investor Advisory Committee will be considering fee-shifting bylaws at its next meeting, and asks (via approving linkage to Keith Paul Bishop) why should the Investor Advisory Committee be conferring with the SEC on a state law contract question?
Well, my answer would be, because the corporate form - by definition - includes judicial oversight as part of the corporate "contract" (if you call it a contract). Judicial construction of "terms" (if you call them terms) is inherent in its nature, and an important part of ensuring that corporate managers do not exploit shareholders. Fee-shifting undermines that bargain, especially if applied to representative litigation (where the shareholder has only a small upside but a very large potential downside). For that reason, the Investor Advisory Committee and the SEC have an interest in making sure that investors "get" what they expect to get - a corporation, which includes judicial oversight as inherent in the organizational form.
And it's not like the SEC hasn't - under the guise of investor protection - policed matters of internal corporate governance before. For example, the NYSE (which acts under the SEC's direction) requires shareholder votes for certain large new stock issuances in terms of equity or voting power. The NYSE also forbids disparate reduction in common stock voting power. One could easily imagine that, even if the SEC doesn't act directly, the NYSE could adopt a rule requiring that listed companies not adopt fee-shifting bylaws.
Oklahoma, however, adds a new wrinkle - I imagine it's not home to many publicly traded corporations, but it's difficult to imagine the SEC relishing the idea of preempting Oklahoma law on this subject, or the NYSE categorically refusing to list Oklahoma corporations.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
But that’s what happened when hedge fund Starboard Value delivered a 294-slide presentation on the terrible food at Olive Garden as part of its fight for control of Darden Restaurants. (You can see the presentation in all of its glory here.)
The presentation not only received news coverage in standard outlets like WSJ and Bloomberg, but even attracted the attention of Slate and Mother Jones, who were amused by such detailed accusations as “Darden stopped salting the water in which it boils pasta,” that the crispy Parmesan asparagus is “anything but,” and Starboard’s lament that Olive Garden wait staff bring multiple breadsticks to the table at once, instead of delivering one per customer with a right of replenishment – which leads, according to Starboard, to cold breadsticks that “deteriorate in quality,” and encourages customers to fill up on the free stuff instead of ordering more things that cost money.
Starboard also complained that the Olive Garden menu has expanded to non-Italian offerings like tapas and burgers, that Olive Garden overstuffs its salads and lards them with too much dressing, and that the wait staff fail to push alcohol sales.
All of this, of course, led to such glorious headlines as “Olive Garden Defends Breadstick Policy,” and a Business Insider review of Olive Garden restaurants (the verdict: Starboard was right; but for a contrary opinion, see the New Yorker's take).
The real debate, though, isn’t about food – it’s about the value of the real estate on which Darden’s restaurants sit – which didn’t really make it into most of the headlines.
That said, in a fairly ironic bit of timing, just days after the presentation, CalPERS announced that it was dumping all of its hedge fund investments, because they just aren’t delivering enough of a bang for the buck. CalPERS’s announcement, though, didn’t get quite the same news coverage – maybe it should have used power points.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
The Solicitor General recently filed a brief with the Supreme Court recommending that the Court grant certiorari in the Ninth Circuit case of Moores v. Hildes, No. 13-791. If the Court takes this recommendation (which I’m guessing it will), it will be the third Section 11 case scheduled to be heard this Term. (I’ve blogged about the prior two here and here.)
[More under the cut]
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Since Delaware decisions like Boilermakers Local 154 Ret. Fund v. Chevron Corp., 73 A.3d 934 (Del. Ch. 2013) and ATP Tour, Inc. v. Deutscher Tennis Bund, 91 A.3d 554 (Del. 2014), there have been renewed calls for corporations to amend their charters and/or bylaws to require that shareholder lawsuits – including securities lawsuits – be subject to individualized arbitration.
This is actually a big interest of mine – I’m currently working on a paper concerning the enforceability of arbitration clauses in corporate governance documents. Critically, I do not believe these decisions support the notion that arbitration provisions can control securities claims – at best, they suggest that arbitration provisions in corporate governance documents can control governance claims (i.e., Delaware litigation – concerning directors’ powers and fiduciary duties).
[More under the cut]
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Adam Levitin at Credit Slips has an interesting breakdown of MBS litigation settlements. He points out that of the $94.6 billion in settlement funds, only 2% has gone to private investors alleging securities-fraud-type claims.
First, it shows that legislative reforms and court rulings have seriously impeded the effectiveness of securities class action litigation. If ever there were an area ripe for private securities litigation, private-label RMBS is it, yet almost all of the recoveries are from six settlements. This should be no surprise, but it's rare to see numbers put on the effect. This is what securities issuers and underwriters have long wanted, and the opposition has mainly been the plaintiffs' bar, but perhaps investors will take note of the effect too.
Second, the distribution shows how badly non-GSE investors got shafted. Remember, that private-label securitization was over 60% of the market in 2006. Yet investors have recovered only 38% of that which the GSEs/FHFA have recovered, and most of that is from the trustee settlements or proposed settlements (I'm not sure that any have actually closed). Private securities litigation has recovered a mere 4% of what the GSEs/FHFA have recovered.
The real question is whether investors have learned that they cannot rely on either trustees or the securities laws to protect them from fraud, and if they have, what they plan to do about it. One sensible thing would be simply to invest in other asset classes. The other would be to try and reform the trustee system and/or the securities laws.
I'm sure there are many reasons for the disparity, but I think one major contributor is a series of rulings narrowing the definition of standing in the class action context.
(okay, that was my attempt to jazz up a procedural post)
Anyway, these standing issues are now pending - sort of - before the Supreme Court, as I previously posted. What's interesting is that these standing rulings have had a dramatic effect on private investors' ability to bring claims, but they aren't usually mentioned in the same breath as other, more obvious, limitations on securities class actions.
[More under the jump]
Monday, August 25, 2014
This follows on Ann's post yesterday on Gender and Crowdfunding. Ann, so glad you've joined me and Steve Bradford as securities crowdfunding watchers! Delighted to have you in that informal, somewhat disgruntled "club."
I have been interested in whether securities crowdfunding will democratize business finance. (I note here that Steve Bradford's comment to Ann's post raises the broader question of crowdfunding's ability to better engage underrepresented populations in general.) My interest has, however, been more on the investor (backer) side of the crowdfunding equation than on the business (entrepreneur) side.
As Ann notes, given the delay in the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) rulemaking under Title III of the Jumpstart Our Business Startups (JOBS) Act, the information on gender and crowdfunding that we have so far comes from other types of crowdfunding. This information may or may not map well to markets in securities crowdfunding. But it's still worth reviewing the information that we do have.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
The SEC is in the process of crafting rules to facilitate crowdfunding of unregistered securities offerings. There's been a lot of back and forth about the merits of this idea - Michael Dorff, for example, has argued that it's a sucker's game, because the only businesses that will require crowdfunding are those too toxic for angel investors to touch. Meanwhile, Steve Bradford just posted about a study suggesting that the "crowd" is better at identifying winning business ideas than individual investors - even the professionals.
One idea that's been floated, however, is that crowdfunding will open doors for disadvantaged groups - like women.
Indiegogo, a crowdfunding website, recently boasted that women founders reach their target funding in much greater numbers than do women who seek startup capital through traditional means. Women have had similar results on Kickstarter.
There's been a lot written recently about how women fare poorly in the tech world when they seek startup funding. Women report navigating a lot of pretty toxic sexism from the mostly-male angel investors with whom they must negotiate.
I have my doubts about the viability of crowdfunding, but I'll be interested to see whether it can also level playing fields in unexpected ways.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
This year, I’m going to be teaching a seminar on the financial crisis with a friend of mine from law school, Tanya Marsh of Wake Forest. The seminar will be offered at Wake Forest in the Fall and then again at Duke in the Spring. Among other things, we plan to assign the students to watch several movies about the crisis (some will be watched by the entire class; for others, different groups of students will watch different films, and then discuss them with the class).
In preparation, I watched (or, as the case may be, rewatched) the movies we’re likely to assign. So here are my comments on the movies – which I assume many of you have already seen, but probably not everyone has seen everything – with the caveat that, I’m commenting at least as much as an audience member/amateur film critic as I am as a professor.
(Tanya tells me the students are unlikely to stumble across this post, but in case you do – these are my opinions only, we’ll want to hear yours! And for what it’s worth, Tanya and I disagree on at least one of the films.)
[More under the jump]
Monday, August 11, 2014
Ah, yes . . . . The public/private divide . . . . My co-blogger Ann Lipton fairly begged me to write about this topic today, given that she had to miss the discussion session on the subject (entitled "Does The Public/Private Divide In Federal Securities Regulation Make Sense?") convened by me and Michael Guttentag at last week's Southeastern Association of Law Schools (SEALS) annual conference. Arm-twisting aside, however, this is a topic of current interest (and actively engaged scholarship) for me.
The discussion session allowed a bunch of our corporate and securities law colleagues to explore historical, present, and projected future distinctions between public and private offerings and public and private companies/firms. The discussion ranged widely, as did the short papers submitted by the participants. Some topics of conversation were oriented in part toward corporate governance concerns--comments from Lisa Fairfax on linkages to shareholder empowerment and from Jill Fisch on executive compensation in the post-Dodd-Frank public environment come to mind in this regard. Other discussion topics engaged securities regulation more centrally, including by, e.g., questioning the coherence of the rationale underlying the Section 12(g) and 15(d) reporting thresholds (with interesting commentary from Amanda Rose and Usha Rodrigues); offering historical observations about the difference between public offerings and private placements and how that history does, should, and may play out in offering markets (Dale Oesterle and Wulf Kaal); expressing concern about accredited investor status in the wake of the new Rule 506(c) under the Securities Act of 1933, as amended (Jonathan Glater); and analyzing the CROWDFUND Act at the public/private offering and company divides (me).
Different notions of "publicness" and "privateness" were offered up, dissected, and used in the discussion. Many pointed to the formative work of Hillary Sale (The New 'Public' Corporation, Public Governance, and J.P. Morgan: An Anatomy of Corporate Publicness) and Don Langevoort and Bob Thompson (Redrawing the Public-Private Boundaries in Entrepreneurial Capital-Raising and 'Publicness' in Contemporary Securities Regulation after the JOBS Act) as important touchstones. Both sets of papers address issues involving the publicness of firms. The Langevoort and Thompson Redrawing article also addresses public and private offerings of securities on a detailed level.
Yet, not everyone anchored their ideas to these existing works. One participant (Ben Means) provocatively suggested, for example, analyzing public disclosure rules using the bumpy-versus-smooth taxonomy for legal rules described in Adam Kolber's recent California Law Review article. I was not familiar with this piece. I now plan to read it.
Many discussants denied the continued existence or salience of a public/private divide in securities regulation, believing instead that there is a sliding scale or continuum between public and private. Although this argument has more traction after the JOBS Act and the Dodd-Frank Act, evidence of an indistinct line both in finance and entity law predates those legislative initiatives. Some of us were uncomfortable in declaring the death of the public/private divide--or in letting go of the analytical distinction between publicness and privateness because of the role that it serves in scholarship and teaching. The public/private divide has been a heuristic in securities regulation that people find hard to abandon . . . .
My paper, which is founded on the works of Professors Langevoort, Sale, and Thompson, is forthcoming in the University of Cincinnati Law Review. Although the draft is not "ready for Prime Time" yet, I am happy to share it with anyone who may be interested in it. Other papers submitted for the discussion group may or may not be precursors to works in process. But you can contact any discussion group participant (or ask me to contact one or more participants on your behalf) if you want to explore their ideas further.
Although I am not yet fully ready to step back into the classroom to teach next week, I am better prepared for the experience (and for the research and writing I am doing) thanks to the SEALS conference. And now, to finish that syllabus . . . .
Saturday, August 9, 2014
The exact measure of damages in a fraud on the market 10(b) action has long been a bit of a muddle, because it raises many difficult evidentiary and legal issues. However, because most securities class actions are dismissed or settle, there actually are not many court decisions discussing the problem. The Supreme Court’s decision in Comcast Corp. v. Behrend (2013), an antitrust case, may have begun to change that – as the BP litigation demonstrates.
[More under the cut]
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Market efficiency is a concept used by economists to describe markets with certain theoretical characteristics. For example, a “weak-form” efficient market is one where historical prices are not predictive of future prices, and therefore excess profits cannot be earned by using strategies based on historical pricing. A “semi-strong” efficient market is one where public information is reflected in stock price to the point where it is impossible to earn excess returns by trading public information.
Market efficiency is also a legal concept, which, it must be said, only roughly tracks the economic definition. In particular, in Section 10(b) litigation, an “efficient” market is one that absorbs information with sufficient speed and thoroughness to justify allowing plaintiffs to bring claims using the fraud on the market theory to satisfy the element of reliance.
The exact degree of speed/thoroughness that’s required for Section 10(b) litigation is something of a theoretical muddle (as Donald Langevoort has written extensively about) – although the Supreme Court’s recent Halliburton decision may provide more guidance on that (see discussion here and here).
For now, though, most courts try to assess “efficiency” by reference to what are known as the Cammer factors, taken from the case of Cammer v. Bloom, 711 F. Supp. 1264 (D.N.J. 1989). These factors include weekly trading volume (with higher volume taken as an indicator of efficiency), the number of analysts reporting on the security, the number of market makers, and the cause-and-effect relationship between the disclosure of new information, and changes in the security’s price. Some courts also consider additional factors such as the size of the bid-ask spread and the number of institutional owners.
These factors have frequently been criticized as duplicative or uninformative. See e.g., Geoffrey Christopher Rapp, Proving Markets Inefficient: The Variability of Federal Court Decisions on Market Efficiency on Cammer v. Bloom and its Progeny. Some commenters have speculated that a few of the factors are counterproductive, and in certain markets might indicate less efficiency. See, e.g., William O. Fisher, Does the Efficient Market Theory Help Us Do Justice in a Time of Madness? (2005).
There’s a new paper that tests this claim, and concludes that the commenters are right, and at least some of these factors really are counterproductive.
[More under the jump]