Here's the Second Circuit decision on the Carmen Segarra case. She alleged that the Fed was too soft on Goldman Sachs, and secretly taped meetings between regulators and the bank in an effort to prove it. And in some ways, she has influenced the policy debate more than you'd think any low level, very briefly employed bank examiner would, so she's already won something.
She lost her whistleblower suit, but that's not even a huge indictment of her. She lost it because she tried to pull herself within the confines of the bank whistleblower statute by alleging that the Fed, and her supervisors (and her), were performing a service for the FDIC when they examined Goldman Sachs. The statute says, in the court's words, "if an individual is subject to liability under this statute, he or she must be '[a] person who is performing, directly or indirectly, [a] function or service on behalf of the [FDIC]." The court said that it was "frankly silly" to suggest that Fed employees were working for the FDIC. Put that way, it sort of sounds silly.
Is it so obvious, though? In a complaint? The purpose of the statute is to protect whistleblowers who work at among other things "Federal reserve bank[s]" who bring information to light about "gross mismanagement" in a way which performs a service to the FDIC, which (I think, the court didn't say) might insure Goldman (but wouldn't, I guess, if it doesn't have depositors; it is a bank holding company), would be involved in any trigger of orderly liquidation authority under Title II of Dodd-Frank, and, as a voting member of the Financial Stability Oversight Council, arguably oversees SIFIs, of which Goldman is one. Segarra alleges that Goldman Sachs didn't have a conflict of interest policy, and her job was to examine the firm for safety and soundness. The statute is supposed to be broadly construed. Although I haven't yet been too convinced by Segarra, her argument is plausible enough. One judge, who maybe agreed, but may be worried about the prospect of every bank examiner reporting, quitting, and suing, once wrongdoing is uncovered uttered a terse "I concur in the result."
Segarra's lawyers don't look classy, and her damages request was nuts, but I'm not quite sure why her claim has been given the back of the hand quite so tersely, in a per curiam opinion that doesn't enjoy the the support of all three members of the court. And do let me know if I've missed something.
Post updated to clarify the FDIC-Goldman relationship
Another update - here's the district court opinion, which is more articulate about the problems with the complaint. Courts don't like to regulate banking supervision, and the district court depends on a conclusion that banking regulation is very informal, which would make a claim that a bank is ignoring a recommendation from supervisors not the same thing as a bank violating the law. It would have been nice if the Second Circuit had evaluated that part of the opinion, given that banking regulation is generally extremely informal. It's not clear to me that Congress didn't want whistleblowers to police this sort of supervision.
The Volcker Rule’s covered fund provisions have not received the attention they deserve. Like the more well-studied proprietary trading rule, the covered funds rule restricts bank investments in the name of limiting their risk-taking and mitigating their contribution to systemic risk. As with proprietary trading, legislators and regulators faced a decision with covered funds on how to define those bank activities that would be off-limits. However, unlike with prop trading, Congress, and federal regulators subsequently, chose to define the scope of the covered funds rule largely by reference to an existing statute.
In a recent short article just published in The Capital Markets Law Journal (an earlier ssrn draft is available here), I examine this decision by Congress and federal regulators. In crafting the statutory provision and the final rule respectively, Congress and federal regulators chose to apply the covered funds rule to bank investments in entities that would otherwise be investment companies but for the exemptions in Sections 3(c)(1) and 3(c)(7) of the Investment Company Act. This importation from the Investment Company Act – in what I call a trans-statutory cross reference – has profound consequences.
A first cut
Using Investment Company Act exemptions to set the scope of the covered funds rule has advantages. The Investment Company Act exemptions set boundaries that have already been defined by regulators and market expectations. These particular trans-statutory cross references work to circumscribe bank investments in, and sponsorships of, a wide range of entities. Congress appears to have concluded that private equity and hedge fund investments posed inordinate risks for banks and the government safety net. Since those two types of funds typically use those two Investment Company Act exemptions, the trans-statutory cross references seem to accomplish Congress’s intended purposes. A range of other entities also use these two exemptions, but the five federal regulators that promulgated the final rule ultimately carved many of those entities out. Still, many non-real-estate-related securitization vehicles would be covered by the rule.
On the other hand, prohibiting banks from investing in particular exempted funds does not necessarily mean that banks will move their money to safer locales. Many real estate securitizations, for example, are not covered by the rule. Banks could move capital to other exempted funds or even restructure existing investments to fall under other Investment Company Act exemptions not covered by Volcker. More on this in a moment.
When securities law serves banking law purposes
Stepping back from its immediate market consequences: the trans-statutory cross references at the heart of the covered funds rule highlights the ways in which the Investment Company Act, in particular, and securities regulation, more broadly, can and cannot regulate effectively the systemic risk posed by banks and other financial institutions. In other words, the tools of securities relation are in some ways aligned and in some ways mismatched with the purposes of prudential regulation. The trans-statutory cross references exacerbate Volcker’s problems of under- and over-inclusiveness in limiting the risk-taking of banks. The portions of the Investment Company Act most useful for systemic risk are its restrictions on leverage, which are somewhat unique in the pantheon of securities laws and function most similarly to banking rules.
Trans-statutory cross references can delegate power from one agency to another
Volcker’s trans-statutory cross references have not only policy but also political implications. By using a securities law to define the scope of a banking law, the covered funds rule effectively transfers critical policymaking functions from one group of agencies (banking regulators) to another (the SEC). This has potentially profound implications given the differing statutory missions, cultures, and personnel of those agencies. Securities regulators also face different interest groups and have different institutional pressure points compared to their banking counterparts.
How the SEC will wield this power to define the scope of a banking law remains to be seen. Some commentators have doubts as to the SEC’s interest and ability to pursue systemic risk regulation alongside its traditional investor protection role. The covered funds rule will provide one test of the SEC’s resolve. Banking industry interest will likely now focus on other Investment Company Act exemptions. SEC decisions to narrow or expand other Investment Company Act exemptions – particularly Section 3(c)(5) or Rule 3-a-7 – now have cascading consequences by virtue of Volcker’s covered fund provisions. After Volcker, banks and other parties in securitization markets may seek to structure securitizations to rely on one of these other exemptions. Efforts to narrow these exemptions will likely meet strong opposition from banks and the securitization industry. In considering whether to narrow or enlarge these exemptions, the SEC must now consider not only whether investors in collective investment funds are protected. It must also consider the effects on bank risk-taking and systemic risk.
A larger lesson
The political dynamics outlined in my paper point to lessons for policymakers considering using trans-statutory cross references in the future. Trans-statutory references may take power from one regulatory body and give it to another. In the case of the covered fund rules, power over prudential rules was, perhaps unintentionally, delegated to a securities regulator. This works well if the statutory drafters trust the agency from whom power was taken less or trust the agency to whom power was given more. It works if the concern is to check potentially overzealous pursuit of policy objectives by the traditional regulator or to remedy potential shirking by a captured body. However, trans-statutory cross references may fail if the newly empowered regulator works at cross purposes to the statute it now has authority over. Trans-statutory cross references reflect a lesson that is old but one that bears repeating nonetheless: technical drafting decisions can have outsized and unintended political consequences, particularly with respect to the most important question of all – who decides policy going forward.
Cross-posted at Columbia's Blue Sky Blog.
I'm enjoying Philip's guest blogging with us. I think I particularly like this part of his last post:
If it sounds condescending to suggest that the government barely even thought about legitimacy issues during the last crisis, perhaps it is fitting that I end with an obligatory presentation of Wallach’s Law, which is that everything is more amateurish than you think, even after accounting for Wallach’s Law. Everything: financial crisis responding and post-response analysis are no exceptions.
At the end of my review of his book, I said:
one of the reasons I like thinking about the financial crisis, and like reading books like Wallach’s about it, is because it was an enormous almost-disaster that was averted for thousands of different, interlocking reasons. The government’s response to it was both wise, unreflective, tremendously unfair, and highly successful, and a million other things as well.
We may never sort out what exactly happened, and we'll certainly never know whether it was the best possible approach, or three removed from best, or 17, or whatever. Given so many inputs, what can we say about the legal output?
I think we can say a few things. First, that the law mattered, and provided constraints, even when it shouldn't have or was just used as an excuse (ahem, Lehman Bros.). Second, one of the ways it mattered is because it cabined the government's thinking of precisely how it could get creative. We can't save a bank through X, so let's push through a merger to save it that way. We may never want the government too cabined in the middle of a crisis, but there is room to impose constraints afterwards, too. So if you're inclined, for whatever reason, to look at the world through "law only" glasses, I think you can gain some useful perspectives on what happened during that hectic period six years ago.
Though, as we found out today, they're still litigating it all!
My colleague Peter Conti-Brown is interested in Philip Wallach's legal history of the financial crisis, as am I. He's got a post up on it over at the Yale J. on Reg. blog, and go give it a look. They've debated, over there, whether the Fed had the authority to rescue Lehman Brothers; it rather famously claimed that it did not, only to give AIG a massive bailout a couple of days later:
One of the features of Philip’s stint here was a debate we had on the Fed’s claim that it lacked the legal authority to save Lehman Brothers. I say that’s a post-hoc invention; Philip thinks it’s not, or at least,not so obvious. What do we learn from this fascinating exchange?
I still think those inside the Fed—whether at the Board of Governors or the Federal Reserve Bank of New York—had the authority to do whatever they wanted with Lehman. And given the political maelstrom they faced, I’m not sure I would have done a thing differently than they did. My critique of their legal analysis is not a critique of their crisis decision-making. But the legal arguments are distracting from the bigger question, about the appropriate levels of discretion that a central bank should have in using its lender of last resort authority. What the debate with Philip has shown me is that, even if I’m not wrong—and, well, I’m not—the law is something of an omnipresence in the way the government faced the financial crisis. That omnipresence may even have brooded from time to time.
Over at the New Rambler Review (which I'm really enjoying), I've got a review of Philip Wallach's legal history of the financial crisis. The kick-off offers a riff on the crisis:
The government’s response to the financial crisis was an example of messy policymaking that occasioned a happy ending, although not everyone sees it that way. Some are unsure about the ending – they have decried the very modest meting out of punishment that followed the recovery of the economy. Others are unsure that the policymaking was messy – they are likely to think of the government’s response to the financial crisis as an inevitable manifestation of executive preeminence as the doer of last resort, institutionally capable of acting when courts and legislatures cannot.
But I will take a stable economy over a few prison sentences, especially when it is possible that you can’t have both at the same time. And you won’t convince me that the things government officials did during the crisis – last minute deals, concluded late at night and paired with creative reimaginings of underused statutes and regular resorts to Congress for more legislation – was the mark of the smooth progress of an imperial presidency.
Go over there and read the whole thing!
My colleague Peter Conti-Brown has an op-ed in the Times today regarding the Fed's crazy regional bank system. A taste:
Congress should let the Board of Governors appoint and remove the 12 Reserve Bank presidents, as they may do with other employees of the board. The 12 regional Feds would then become branch offices of our central bank, continuing to do research and data analysis, while leaving policy making to Washington.
This plan has several benefits. First, the next time the Fed makes an egregious mistake — like failing to predict the meltdown of the housing market — we would know for certain whom to hold accountable. Second, it would allow the Fed to modernize the distribution of the 12 Reserve Banks. There is strong evidence that the cities for the 12 banks were chosen as much for politics as economics. In 2015, do we really need two regional Feds (Kansas City and St. Louis) in Missouri, but only one (San Francisco) west of Texas?
Everything Peter writes about the Fed is worth reading, and this is no exception. Give it a look here.
I was looking at Dan Scwarcz's lastest paper on Shadow Insurance, which is a thing:
Shadow insurance – defined as life insurers’ reinsurance of policies with captive insurers that are not “authorized” reinsurers and do not maintain a rating from a private rating agency – creates important risks to policyholders, the insurance industry, and potentially even the broader financial system. Although the standard state regulatory safeguards help mitigate some of these risks, they leave other hazards of shadow insurance largely unchecked. Even granting that shadow insurance likely helps reduce the cost of insurance associated with the excessive conservatism of some state reserving rules, the practice ultimately undermines insurance markets by impeding accurate risk assessments and tradeoffs by policyholders, regulators, and other market participants.
Of course, there may be a real world reason for this - shadow institutions are in theory nimbly entering markets that heavily regulated incumbents can't serve well. This is the regulation is bad story of the growth of shadow finance.
Banco Santander's American sub is in trouble. Big trouble with the government. Supervisors think it is undercapitalized, doesn't adequately keep track of its money, and is led badly. The Wall Street Journal put the story about their concerns on A1.
So, what's next? A takeover? A fine? A lawsuit?
The Federal Reserve issued a stinging lecture to Spanish bank Banco Santander SA,faulting the lender’s U.S. unit for failing to meet regulators’ standards on a range of basic business operations.
Oh. A lecture. Well that doesn't...
The Fed didn’t fine the bank but reserved the right to do so later and required the bank to write a series of remedial plans.
So a warning or whatever...
the Fed had already scolded Santander for paying an unauthorized dividend earlier in 2014 without the Fed’s required permission.
[Santander CEO] Ms. Botín spoke for 15 minutes by phone with [Fed Governor] Mr. Tarullo on Nov. 10.
She met with him again in Washington on Dec. 10, when they talked privately for an hour
Oh, and meetings. Still, there have been resignations and promises to change the whole governance structure of the company. So these talking-tos must have been absolutely hair-raising. For drama, you really can beat bank supervision, amiright?
My article on the administrative law and practice of the FOMC is available on SSRN, and has come out as part of a great symposium in Law and Contemporary Problems, with articles by Jim Cox, John Coates, Kate Judge, and many other people smarter than me. Do give the paper a download, and let me know what you think. Here's the abstract:
The Federal Open Market Committee (FOMC), which controls the supply of money in the United States, may be the country’s most important agency. But there has been no effort to come to grips with its administrative law; this article seeks to redress that gap. The principal claim is that the FOMC’s legally protected discretion, combined with the imperatives of bureaucratic organization in an institution whose raison d’etre is stability, has turned the agency into one governed by internally developed tradition in lieu of externally imposed constraints. The article evaluates how the agency makes decisions through a content analysis of FOMC meeting transcripts during the period when Alan Greenspan served as its chair, and reviews the minimal legal constraints on its decisionmaking doctrinally.
In addition to being your one stop shop for the legal constraints on the FOMC, the paper was an opportunity to do a fun content analysis on Greenspan era transcripts, and to see whether any simple measures correlated with changes in the federal funds rate. In honor of Jay Wexler's Supreme Court study, I even checked to see if [LAUGHTER] made a difference in interest rates. No! It does not! But more people may show up for meetings where the interest rate is going to change, tiny effect, but maybe something for obsessive hedge fund types. Anyway, give it a look.
Greece is going to close its banks and stock market until it sorts out how to prevent its citizens from withdrawing their assets from their financial intermediaries post haste. This is a pretty old school technique - the US did some of these to prevent panic withdrawals during the Great Depression, and the UK did the same during the currency crisis of 1968, during which it also shut the London Gold Market for two weeks. New technology has made these holidays less oppressive - ATMs with withdrawal limits were kept open when Cyprus did this. But it is still quite the heavy hand of the state, and one of the first resorts when a bank run is really on. As they say, developing.
The AIG suit is over, and the shareholder who was zeroed out by the government won a judgment without damages. These kinds of moral victories are cropping up against the government: a Georgia judge just ruled that the SEC's ALJ program was unconstitutional, but easily fixed. The Free Enterprise Fund held that PCAOB was illegal, but not in any way that would undo what it had achieved. And now AIG. A right without a remedy isn't supposed to be a right at all, but it is true that this is incremental discipline of the government for business regulation excesses. That won't make any of these plaintiffs happy, however.
The Washington Post has a story on the AIG and Fannie and Freddie cases, which, as you might remember, use the Takings Clause to go after the government for its financial crisis related efforts. In theory, that's not the worst way to hold the government accountable for breaking the china in its crisis response - damages after the fact rectify wrongs without getting courts in the way. And I've written about both cases, here and here.
Anyway, the Post has checked in on the cases, and the view is "you people should be worrying more about the possibility that the government may lose.
Greenberg is asking the court to award him and other AIG shareholders at least $23 billion from the Treasury. He says that’s to compensate them for the 80 percent of AIG stock that the Federal Reserve demanded as a condition for its bailout. Judge Thomas Wheeler has repeatedly signaled his agreement with Greenberg. A decision is expected any day.
In the Fannie and Freddie case, the decision is further off, with the trial set to begin in the fall. The hedge funds are challenging the government’s decision to confiscate all of the firms’ annual profits, even if those profits exceed the 10 percent dividend rate that the Treasury had initially demanded. This “profit sweep” effectively prevents the firms from ever returning the government’s $187 billion in capital and freeing themselves from government control.
Earlier this year, Judge Margaret Sweeney refused to dismiss the case and gave lawyers for the hedge funds the right to sift through the memos and e-mails of government officials involved. Within weeks, Fannie and Freddie shares, which had been trading at about $1.50, started trading as high as $3 based on rumors that the documents revealed inconsistencies in government officials’ statements.
They checked in with me on the article, so there's that, too.
We've been speaking about banker ethics that week, though it is still unclear what, exactly, supervisors want when they call for it. Maybe the network-of-regulatory-networks the Financial Stability Board will come up with an answer. The G-7 has just asked it to develop a code of ethics that would apply to all of the banks across the world.
“This kind of malpractice has got to do with the dominant company culture but not just that -- it’s also about the behavior of individuals, who should not be absolved from responsibility,” Bundesbank President Jens Weidmann said in the German city of Dresden on Friday, announcing the G-7’s lead. The code “should be a voluntary self-commitment made by the financial industry, an international initiative,” he said.
“Currently a certain number of disparate codes exist in different jurisdictions, and they were often ignored,” Banque de France Governor Christian Noyer said after the Dresden meeting. “We need to pull all this together, so that we have a code that is coherent and applicable everywhere.”
It will be interesting to see how voluntary this voluntary code is. And how the FSB is going to harmonize the cultures of, say, Japanese conglomerates and American four branchers. But it is either an example of how financial regulation is increasingly done at the global level ... or an example of regulators saying: we give up! All our rules are meaningless! Please be nicer!
My soon to be colleague Peter Conti-Brown and Brookings author (and future Glom guest) Philip Wallach are debating whether the Fed had the power to bail out Lehman Brothers in the middle of the financial crisis. The Fed's lawyers said, after the fact, that no, they didn't have the legal power to bail out Lehman. Peter says yes they did, Philip says no, and I'm with Peter on this one - the discretion that the Fed had to open up its discount window to anyone was massive. In fact, I'm not even sure that Dodd-Frank, which added some language to the section, really reduced Fed discretion much at all. It's a pretty interesting debate, though, and goes to how much you believe the law constrains financial regulators.
as I discuss at much greater length in my forthcoming book, The Power and Independence of the Federal Reserve, the idea that 13(3) presented any kind of a statutory barrier is pure spin. There’s no obvious hook for judicial review (and no independent mechanism for enforcement), and the authority given is completely broad. Wallach calls this authority “vague” and “ambiguous,” but I don’t see it: broad discretion is not vague for being broad. In relevant part, the statute as of 2008 provided that “in unusual and exigent circumstances,” five members of the Fed’s Board of Governors could lend money through the relevant Federal Reserve Bank to any “individual, partnership, or corporation” so long as the loan is “secured to the satisfaction of the Federal reserve bank.” Before making the loan, though, the relevant Reserve Bank has to “obtain evidence” that the individual, partnership, or corporation in question “is unable to secure adequate credit accommodations from other banking institutions.”
In other words, so long as the Reserve Bank was “satisfied” by the security offered and there is “evidence”—some, any, of undefined quality—the loan could occur.
I (and most observers) read the “satisfaction” requirement as meaning that the Fed can only lend against what it genuinely believes to be sound collateral—i.e., it must act as a (central) bank, and not as a stand-in fiscal authority. The Fed’s assessment of Lehman Brothers as deeply insolvent at the time of the crisis meant that it did not have the legal power to lend. Years later, we have some indication that this assessment may have been flawed, but I don’t take the evidence uncovered as anything like dispositive. As I note in the book, the Fed’s defenders make a strong substantive case that the Fed was right to see Lehman as beyond helping as AIG (rescued days later) was not.
And the debate will be going on over at the Yale J on Reg for the rest of the week. Do give it a look.
Lawsky had a tough reputation, and was probably the most challenging state corporate regulator since Spitzer (the Times: " a polarizing four-year tenure that shook up the sleepy world of financial regulation in New York"). And I can say that I knew him when - we were in the same unit at DOJ. But really, I'm awfully impressed that 1. he is leaving to start his own firm, continuing the craze for boutiques that has animated investment bankers, and now, perhaps their former regulators? And 2. this excellent front page from the Village Voice.
Apparently, the new firm will specialize in digital security. Congratulations, Ben!