There's a proposal out there, with support from various surprising corners of the political spectrum, to get rid of the NY Fed's place on the FOMC, on account of it being too close to Wall Street, big banks, and so on. I wrote about it for DealBook - do check it out. A taste:
I have my doubts about any legislation that threatens the central bank’s independence, but would evaluate it by looking to three of my pet axioms of financial regulation.
When I apply these axioms, I conclude that the New York Fed should not lose its vote. The short-term benefits are unclear, making the change look like a symbolic effort to shift the long-term focus of the Fed away from Wall Street. But Wall Street is important, and deserves its focus. There’s no reason to believe that the New York Fed will do a better or different job on Wall Street if it loses its automatic vote.
Do let me know what you think, either in the comments or otherwise.....
The WSJ has a story today that suggests that indeed it does.I'm not so sure, and I've been looking into the situation. Looking at the plain numbers doesn't account for selection effects - one reason the agency might take a case to an ALJ is because they've already settled it, and it's inexpensive to put the settlement on record before an in-house judge. So we should probably strip settled cases out of the analysis. But there's no question that the SEC is ramping up ALJ enforcement, and that it usually wins there.
Hence the recent spate of arguments that ALJs are unconstitutional. I'll have more to say on that, too, but it's worth remembering the "part of the furniture" theory of constitutional law as a first order reason to conclude that a government program is probably okay. If something has been around forever, and is important, it's probably constitutional. The Supreme Court has probably decided hundreds of cases that began with ALJ proceedings. You can expect it, and other Article III judges, to assume that the institution of the SEC ALJ should survive.
Greenberg is suing the government for treating his firm unconstitutionally differently than other firms bailed out during the financial crisis - he argues, correctly, that AIG got killed, and was used as a vehicle to pay AIG's struggling counterparties out at 100 cents on the dollar. Whether that's a taking, given 1) that the government couldn't possibly treat everyone identically during the crisis, and 2) that AIG would have failed without the government's intervention, making the measure of damages difficult, is why many people have found the case to be unlikely.
So now that Greenberg is getting some good rulings, and sympathetic questions from the bench, the received wisdom seems to be that he is doing surprisingly well (though if he wins, an appeal is certain). I haven't read every transcript, but I do wonder whether the "day in court" effect is at work here. In appellate cases, I think that oral argument is an excellent predictor of the outcome. But at trial, with appeal likely, savvy judges often let the side that is going to lose put on plenty of evidence, and do well with motions, so that there can be no allegation of bias, and to minimize things to complain about on appeal. They get, in other words, their day in court. I'm not sure if that's what's going on there, but I know that when I was a litigator, I wouldn't want the court to treat long-shot adversaries with contempt, but rather with tolerance.
The corporate law community often places high hopes in judges as a mechanism for checking government or (in Delaware) defendant excesses. They usually go along, sure, but may in dicta indicate displeasure, or give critical speeches, and sometimes, as in the Newman insider trading case, the refusal to accept the Citigroup settlement, the ethics critiques made during the KPMG prosecutions, that displeasure will sprout into an adverse ruling.
It's a pretty interesting, but pretty gauzy, was of thinking about adjudication, maybe Orin Kerr would find it persuasive in the Fourth Amendment context, but in other areas of public law, administrative law, for example, the small community of bench and bar just don't see their roles that way. It's not, "SEC you've gone too far this time, and so we're cooking up a new reason to reverse you," it's "SEC [or EPA, or whoever], we substantively disagree with this policy, and we're cooking up a procedural reason to reverse it." Different, in that administrative law is not governed by equity, it is governed by process.
Anyway, my theory about the way white collar works in New York - opaque, clubby, but almost chivalrous - gets what I'm taking as a vote of confidence in James Stewart's nice overview of the fight between the judges and the US Attorney's Office in Manhattan over the pushy, PR-savvy nature of the US Attorney. The whole column is well worth reading - for one thing, it sounds like a bunch of judges talked to Stewart, which never happens, and there's the requisite, "greatest judges ever! but" from the prosecutors office and "whatta prosecutor! however" from the judges. But here's an excerpt that illustrates the way that this weird "just do justice" method of handling white collar crime works:
[Former statehouse speaker Sheldon] Silver’s lawyers moved to dismiss his indictment because Mr. Bharara had orchestrated a “media firestorm” that tainted their client’s right to a fair trial. Such motions are considered long shots, but Judge Valerie Caproni of Federal District Court in Manhattan wrote that Mr. Silver had a legitimate argument that the case should be thrown out because Mr. Bharara, “while castigating politicians in Albany for playing fast and loose with the ethical rules that govern their conduct, strayed so close to the edge of the rules governing his own conduct.”
Judge Caproni ultimately sided with the government, so there’s no way of knowing how close she came to tossing the indictment. But the possibility she even seriously considered such a step has set off alarms among some of her fellow judges. Judge Caproni herself acknowledged that dismissing an indictment is a “drastic remedy” that is “rarely used.” She also noted that the motion was not a disciplinary proceeding against Mr. Bharara. That didn’t stop her from spending a good part of the opinion questioning his ethics and chastising him for his public comments about the case.
This is, as they say, developing, and if you think that Bharara may be AG some day, one question is whether he will be able to avoid being blackballed by the bench ... and whether a blackballing would work outside of the white hankie world of white collar crime administration (didn't seem to work out so badly for Rudy Giuliani).
When you join a transnational regulatory network, you have to report to the network that you're acting consistently with its principles, that you have the powers that it expects you to have, and that you're a worthy member of the club. The SEC just made its case to its peers through a 700 page Q&A that is worth a look, though it exemplifies the differences in the way a lawyer or a social scientist might approach the question "what do you do?" The SEC is full of lawyers, and so this report includes not so many numbers, but plenty of discussion of regulatory powers, and representative matters that show how those power are exercised.
However there is some aggregate data. For example, the SEC keeps track and categorizes the sorts of cases that it brings. In 2013, the agency was, for example, mostly likely to initiate a securities offering proceeding, which it did 103 times, followed by 68 reporting and disclosure cases, 50 market manipulation cases, and, bringing up the rear, only 44 insider trading cases (the agency was only asked about these categories, the reporting is on page 184 et seq. Did I know this? More pump and dump proceedings than insider trading cases? Anyway, it's that sort of thing that will surely have you reading the whole 700 pages, just as I did.
I have argued in a paper that the revolving door seems much less problematic than conventional wisdom would have it. And Ed DeHaan, Simi Kedia, and their co-authors have found that SEC lawyers who go through the door usually try to show off when at the agency by bringing and winning bigger cases.
But Congressman Stephen Lynch isn't so sure about that door, and has introduced the SEC Revolving Door Restriction Act of 2015 to put some brakes on it. His press release:
H.R. 1463, the SEC Revolving Door Restriction Act of 2015, amends the Securities Exchange Act of 1934 to prevent former employees of the SEC from seeking employment with companies against which they participated in enforcement actions in the preceding 18 months. H.R. 1463 defines enforcement action as court actions, administrative proceedings, or Commission opinions. Former employees must seek an ethics opinion from the SEC if they are interested in seeking employment within a year of their termination at the SEC with a company that was subject to an SEC enforcement action in which they participated.
I'm actually not too sure what this adds to the typical revolving door restriction. Federal prosecutors can never work on matters on which they worked while in government service. And they are barred from representing clients for at least one year. This lengthens that limitation to 18 months, but at the White House, it's already 2 years for lobbying.
The agency isn't too excited about this, as they have observed over at Jim Hamilton's World of Securities Regulation:
Delaying staffers’ employment in the private sector would affect a significant number of SEC employees, who have a long tradition of leaving government service to join the defense bar. At the 2015 SEC Speaks conference, when current and former agency staff members were asked by Chair Mary Jo White to stand, at least two thirds of the room took to their feet.
But it doesn't seem to add much to the regs already in place. Even POGO, the NGO that seems to be behind the introduction of the bill, acknowledges - indeed, it collects data on - previous ethics restrictions: "SEC regulations require former employees to file [ethics] statements if they intend to represent an employer or client before the agency within two years of their SEC employment." This even gives them the out of a waiver. But you can look over the text of the bill and let me know if you see anything more than a more specific ban of agency officials working on matters post-employment that they handled pre-termination.
One of the things you now have to do if you're a bank with over $50 billion in American assets is to file a resolution plan, or living will, with the authorities - this basically states how you are going to dispose of the company if it becomes insolvent. After passing all the big American banks through an annual set of stress tests, the regulators have turned their attention abroad:
In their review of the resolution plans from BNP Paribas, HSBC Holdings plc, and The Royal Bank of Scotland Group plc, the agencies noted some improvements from the original plans. However, the agencies have jointly identified specific shortcomings with the 2014 resolution plans that will need to be addressed in the 2015 submissions.
It's annoying enough to be told by some foreign regulator that you aren't sufficiently prepared for a disaster, given that you're home regulator is telling you that you are. But it must be especially annoying if you are a state-owned bank, which RBS is, to the tune of 66% of its outstanding shares. That's almost a foreign relations issue. And given that the resolution of international banks like these is one of the most difficult issues facing bank regulators - there has been a failed effort to create a framework going on since Lehman Brothers failed so chaotically - it must be grating to be told to revise the plan:
The agencies will require that the annual plans submitted by these three institutions on or before December 31, 2015, demonstrate that the firms are making significant progress to address all the shortcomings identified in the letters, and are taking actions to improve their resolvability under the U.S. bankruptcy code. These actions include:
- Amending the financial contracts entered into by U.S. affiliates to provide for a stay of certain early termination rights of external counterparties triggered by insolvency proceedings to the extent those rights are not addressed by the International Swaps and Derivatives Association 2014 Resolution Stay Protocol;
- Ensuring the continuity of shared services that support critical operations and core business lines throughout the resolution process; and
- Demonstrating operational capabilities for resolution preparedness, such as the ability to produce reliable information in a timely manner.
Those are actual requirements! The first one anyway. The other two could be goalposts that just get moved further away next time. Anyway, one question in the brave new world of international banking supervision is whether supervision is a tool that home banks are using for competitive advantage against foreign banks. It will be interesting to see whether this sort of charge is leveled at this sort of action.
The 31 banks subject to stress tests - to see how their positions would hold up if the economy hypothetically tanked - all passed, good news for them, and especially for Citi, which failed the last one, and vowed not to do so again. More here, featuring a picture of former law professor/current Fed board member Dan Tarullo, who supervised the test. And if you're thinking of investing in banks, the Times has a chart of the percentage of money-like assets in the banks' total assets mix. If you are risk averse, you want to invest in Deutsche Bank or Discover. But I think leverage is the most powerful force in the world, so hello, Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley!
I'll outsource the content to Matt Levine's new email, but you just don't see briefs filed by financial businesses against their regulators like the one Powhatan Capital filed against FERC, abetted by one of Philadelphia's good law firms.
There are sections headed "Dr. Chen’s Trades Were Not 'Wash-like' Or 'Wash-type' -- Whatever The Heck That Means," "The Staff’s Stubborn Reliance On The Unpublished, Non-Precedential Amanat Case Is Just Lame," and "Uttering the Phrase 'Enron' Or 'Death Star' Does Not Magically Transform The Staff’s Investigation." It's like an angry trader's dream of what a legal brief might look like ("This is America"!)
It's really quite amusing - check it out.
While defendants are gearing up to make arguments against the constitutionality of the SEC's increasing inclination to use its ALJs, rather than the courts, to serve as the venue for fraud cases, it looks like it has already flipped that way for foreign corrupt practices cases. Mike Koehler did the counting:
More recently, the SEC has been keen on resolving corporate FCPA enforcement actions in the absence of any judicial scrutiny. As highlighted in this 2013 SEC Year in Review post, a notable statistic from 2013 is that 50% of SEC corporate enforcement actions were not subjected to one ounce of judicial scrutiny either because the action was resolved via a NPA or through an administrative order. In 2014, as highlighted in this prior year in review post, of the 7 corporate enforcement actions from 2014, 6 enforcement actions (86%) were administrative actions. In other words, there was no judicial scrutiny of 86% of SEC FCPA enforcement actions from 2014.
It is interesting to note that the SEC has used administrative actions to resolve 9 corporate enforcement actions since 2013 and in none of these actions have there been related SEC enforcement actions against company employees.
Maybe we are seeing an agency decision to prefer administrative adjudication to, you know, adjudicative adjudication.
Peter Henning has a nice overview of recent claims made against the SEC's growing inclination to take fraud cases before its handful of agency-judges (ALJs), instead of to court. Why should that be okay?
From a policy perspective, there's reason to worry. I did some litigation before an administrative tribunal, and it's not that different from in court litigation, with the exception of evidence admissability and objections. But it could be really quite different. Hearsay is in theory fine, there's no requirement that you be able to present evidence in person, and the judge works for the agency that is suing you. It's fair to say that defendants get less process from an ALJ than they would from a federal judge.
But not that much less. ALJs are required to hold hearings, permit the introduction of rebuttal evidence, the statute that governs them makes what they do ("formal adjudication" in the verbiage of administrative law) pretty similar to a trial.
That matters for the equities, as does the almost absolute discretion that agencies have to prosecute in the way they see fit. The SEC can drop claims, send scoldy letters, use ALJs, take you to court, or refer you to the criminal lawyers at DOJ with the recommendation that imprisonment could be sought. Because we wouldn't want judges second guessing the decisions to, say, emphasize insider trading prosecutions over accounting fraud claims, we leave those policy calls to the agency.
Which then begs the question: why now with the constitutional case against the ALJ, a thing that has existed since the end of WWII?
Well, the SEC hasn't used its ALJs for high profile cases very often, at least until recently. But the claims against the turn to administrative tribunals aren't getting a lot of love, and I predict that will continue to happen. Judge Lewis Kaplan, who isn't afraid to savage a government case alleging financial wrongdoing, concluded that he didn't have the power to judge whether an ALJ proceeding violated due process or equal protection standards, given that other, similar cases had been brought in court. The SEC recently ignored a declaratory relief case filed by an S&P executive when it brought an administrative complaint against her.
Some well-heeled defendants may have been emboldened to bring these cases by the Free Enterprise Fund decision in the Supreme Court, which constrained the number levels of tenured officials that could separate the president from policymakers. But administrative adjudication is simply too resource intensive and carefully done to be rendered illegal because of its insulation. The alternative would be to replace ALJs with political hacks, and no one wants that. So I'm not predicting a lot of luck for the defendants in these cases.
The government’s response to the financial crisis was dramatic, enormous, and unprecedented, and nothing about it has been overseen by the courts. In our federal system, the courts are supposed to put the policies of presidents and congresses to the test of judicial review, to evaluate decisions by the executive to sanction individuals for wrongdoing, and to resolve disputes between private parties. But during and after the financial crisis, there has been almost none of that sort of judicial review of government, few sanctions on the private sector for conduct during the crisis, especially criminal ones, for the courts to scrutinize, and a private dispute process that, while increasingly active, has resulted in settlements, rather than trials or verdicts. This Article tells the story of the marginal role of courts in the financial crisis, evaluates the costs of that role, and provides suggestions to ensure a real, if not all-encompassing, judicial role during the next economic emergency.
Do give it a download, and let me know what you think. And thanks in advance for supporting us around here - we do like downloads!
Yesterday, MetLife filed a complaint in the DDC protesting its designation as systemically important, which carries with it increased capital requirements and possibly burdensome oversight by the Fed. Most systemically important financial institutions (or SIFIs), are banks, used to burdesome capital requirements and oversight by the Fed. An insurance company is used to neither, hence the umbrage from MetLife.
The lawyer is Eugene Scalia, so the complaint is naturally well-written and thoughtful. I'm withholding judgment on the various statutory arguments posed, and on which it appears MetLife believes to have its best shot - they posit things like only financial companies can be designated as SIFIs, and financial companies must do 85% of their financial business in the US under the language of the statute, and MetLife, with its foreign insurance operations, does not do so. That sort of statutory flyspecking doesn't usually work in financial regulation, but maybe this time it's different.
But two of the firm's longer shots are worth considering. First, there is an effort to require the FSOC to do a cost benefit analysis in its SIFI designations, which it has steadfastly resisted so far. MetLife argues that the committee arbitrarily "did not address MetLife’s evidence of substantial market and company-specific costs, and did not even opine on whether designating MetLife was, on balance, for good or for ill." It is by no means clear that these considerations must be taken into account from the statute, but there are those who believe that some sort of weighing is something that every agency must do. This sort of argument worked when the DC Circuit had fewer Obama appointees on it.
MetLife is also arguing that it has been deprived of due process by the designation. It was "repeatedly was denied access to the full record on which FSOC’s action was based,"and anyway, "FSOC never identified the thresholds that result in SIFI designation or the manner in which the various statutory and regulatory factors regarding designation are balanced against one another in FSOC’s analysis," not least because of "the extraordinary design in the Dodd-Frank Act of FSOC itself, which identifies individual companies for designation, establishes the standards that govern the designation decision, and then sits in judgment of its own recommendations."
MetLife is right about the way that FSOC works, although the so-called "combination of functions" problems, whereby agencies both prosecute and adjudicate regulatory violations, has never been a big problem in administrative law. It especially has never been a problem in banking regulation, where the deal is that banks give up due process rights - they can be failed at any moment by the FDIC, based on an only somewhat clearly articulated CAMELS standard - in exchange for cheap, federal insured funding by small depositors, and the possibility of a bailout if things get really bad. MetLife doesn't get the cheap funding, but it does, as its SIFI designation suggests, get the benefit of being too big to fail, and therefore the likely recipient of a bailout. Should the fact that insurers only get a part of the benefit of the bargain of being a financial institution mean that they should get more process rights than banks? in some ways, that is what MetLife's constitutional claim posits.
The Times reports:
The billionaire investor, who managed to fend off a criminal insider trading investigation of himself, if not of his former hedge fund, is looking for a former prosecutor and several agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation to join his new $10 billion investment firm, Point72 Asset Management, said several people briefed on the matter, who spoke on the condition of anonymity.
Look, one of the reasons to feel good about the revolving door is that it salts financial institutions with people who expect law compliance. So maybe that explains this development, and we should celebrate Cohen's search for g-men. Or maybe it is, as the Times reports, that he was heartened by the insider trading ruling of the Second Circuit requiring the trader to know both that he was trading on inside information and that the information was obtained in exchange for a benefit, and just wants to grow the enterprise on a number of different fronts.
I'm not sure he should be too heartened by that ruling. It only may free one of his convicted lieutenants, and certainly wouldn't do anything about Matthew Martoma, who both paid for and traded on information provided by a pharma insider.
One dodgy thing that is being included in the currently debated spending bill is a substantive provision repealing a much-hated-by-banks law requiring them to do most of their derivatives trading though an entity that is not covered by deposit insurance. It's a rule that sounds pretty logical - why subsidize derivatives trading with deposit insurance, and isn't it risky to do otherwise? And why do we have to address this in a government budget bill anyway?
But it is also one of uncertain policy origins. Blanche Lincoln thought the swaps pushout rule would resonate with voters when she pushed it, and maybe community banks, which don't do a ton of this stuff, would like to make life hard for the big banks that do. Elizabeth Warren is incensed that it might be repealed, so maybe her constituents would be for it. But the Fed doesn't think it does bank safety much good.
Here's Dave Weigel on the politics, which look good for the banks (Warren's concerns aside, Democrats aren't whipping for the pushout rule reversal to be defeated). Here's DealBook on the sausage-making (the statutory language was drafted by Citigroup, which has always seemed like the most tone-deaf bank to me, rather than the most politically puissant).
My view is that financial regulation, which is just about protecting banks from themselves/macroeconomic shocks, with a soupcon of rent-seeking, is a mixture of easy rules and hard ones. Activity restrictions, like the Volcker Rule, or anti-branching laws, are easy. Capital rules, at least the current ones, are hard, and require a team of examiners to look over the daily positions of the banks, and so on. Admati's capital rule recommendation - banks must hold 4 times more capital than they do now, and there will be no risk-weighting - is an effort to make that easy again.
And organizational rules - create a bank holding company, make this sub do this thing, and that sub do that thing - are also easy.
Note that currently, it's the left and community banks that like the easy rules, and it's the right and the big banks that prefer to do things the hard, sophisticated way. That doesn't mean that complex rules are weak ones - I can't judge the onerousness of our tax laws, but some of them are super-complicated responses to super-sophisticated behavior, and maybe that makes more sense than giving up and charging everyone a VAT. But that's the way I see financial regulation right now.
And yes, I don't know why part of Dodd-Frank should be repealed as a condition of passing a spending bill. But I admire the ability of the lobbyists to get in there and at it.
One last thing - it's risky to be the bank named as the drafter of a bill taking away some of your regulator's regulatory powers. We'll have to see if Citi starts paying a extra-large number of fines in the next year, or if it really did do this with the tacit approval of its supervisors.