Corporate Law as Myth by Jonathan R. Macey

Article | Corporate Law
Corporate Law as Myth
by Jonathan R. Macey*

Vol. 93, Article (December 2020)
93 S. Cal. L. Rev. Article 923 (2020)

Keywords: Fundamental Rules of Corporate Law, Fundamental Principles, Myth 

INTRODUCTION

This Article shows that a variety of fundamental rules of corporate law are based on myth. The Article explains that the myths on which corporate law is based play an important role in attracting public acceptance and support for what otherwise would likely be unpopular and controversial regulations. Thus, one can view the role played by myth in corporate law in a particular context as having either positive or negative characteristics depending on one’s opinion of the social value of the underlying legal rule that is being buttressed and affirmed by the myth.


Four political and sociological myths that continue to play important roles in law are examined. These are: (1) the myth that corporations are owned by their shareholders and represent ownership interests in businesses rather than mere financial claims on the cash flows of those businesses, coupled with certain political (voting) rights that protect those claims; (2) the “shareholder value myth,” that corporate officers and directors are legally required to maximize firm value; (3) that subsidiary companies are entirely independent from and not subject to the control of their parent companies and must remain so in order for the parent company to avoid liability for the contract and tort debts of the subsidiary under various alter ego and piercing the corporate veil theories of corporate law; and (4) the legal regulation of insider trading is justified because of the necessity of creating a “level playing field” among participants in financial markets. Reasonable people can disagree about whether the role played by these myths is normatively positive or negative in each of these contexts.

_______________________

*. Sam Harris Professor of Corporate Law, Corporate Finance & Securities Regulation, Yale Law School. I am grateful for comments from Logan Beirne, Zach Liscow, Josh Macey, Belisa A. Pang, Amanda Rose, Leo Strine, and Andrew Verstein. I received valuable research assistance from Maria Nozadze.

The Law of Corporate Investigations and the Global Expansion of Corporate Criminal Enforcement

Article | Corporate Law
The Law of Corporate Investigations and the Global Expansion of Corporate Criminal Enforcement 
by Jennifer Arlen* & Samuel W. Buell†

From Vol. 93, No. 4 (September 2020)
93 S. Cal. L. Rev. 697 (2020)

Keywords: Corporate Investigations, Corporate Criminal Enforcement

The United States model of corporate crime control, developed over the last two decades, couples a broad rule of corporate criminal liability with a practice of reducing sanctions, and often withholding conviction, for firms that assist enforcement authorities by detecting, reporting, and helping prove criminal violations. This model, while subject to skepticism and critiques, has attracted interest among reformers in overseas nations that have sought to increase the frequency and size of their enforcement actions. In both the United States and abroad, insufficient attention has been paid to how laws controlling the conduct of corporate investigations are critical to regimes of corporate criminal liability and public enforcement. Doctrines governing self-incrimination, employee rights, data privacy, and legal privilege, among other areas, largely determine the relative powers of governments and corporations to collect and use evidence of business crime, and thus the incentives for enforcers to offer settlements that reward firms for private efforts to both prevent and disclose employee misconduct. This Article demonstrates the central role that the law controlling corporate investigations plays in determining the effects of corporate criminal liability and enforcement policies. It argues that discussions underway in Europe and elsewhere about expanding both corporate criminal liability and settlement policies—as well as conversations about changes to the U.S. system—must account for the effects of differences in investigative law if effective incentives for reducing corporate crime are, as they should be, a principal goal.

*. Norma Z. Paige Professor of Law, New York University, and Faculty Director, Program on Corporate Compliance and Enforcement, jennifer.arlen@nyu.edu.

†. Bernard M. Fishman Professor of Law, Duke University, buell@law.duke.edu. The authors would like to thank the following people for their thoughtful discussions of foreign law and for comments on earlier drafts of this article: Miriam Baer, Giovani Bakaj, Rachel Barkow, Leonardo Borlini, Nicolas Bourtin, Michael Bowes, Lincoln Caylor, Bruno Cova, Frederick Davis, Kevin Davis, Grainne de Burca, Mark Dsouza, Luca Enriques, Cindy Estlund, Samuel Estreicher, Jens Frankenreiter, Alejandro Turienzo Fernandez, Jose Carlos Abissamra Filho, Matthew Finkin, Jonathan Fisher, Garth Fitzmaurice, Stavros Gadinis, Brandon Garrett, Martin Gelter, Avi Gesser, John Gleeson, Lisa Griffin, Lawrence Helfer, Daniel Hund, Mary Inman, Rani John, Kathryn Judge, Sung Yong Kang, Issa Kohler-Hausmann, Keith Krakauer, Judy Krieg, Mattias Kumm, Katja Langenbucher, Maximo Langer, Joshua Larocca, Penelope Lepeudry, Alun Milford, Mariana Pargendler, Katharina Pistor, Peter Pope, Pablo Quinones, Daniel Richman, Veronica Root, Jacqueline Ross, Jason Schultz, Catherine Sharkey, Nicola Selvaggi, Margot Seve, Peter Solmssen, Tina Söreide, Katherine Strandburg, Nico van Eijk, Thomas Weigend, Spoerr Wolfgang, Yohimitsu Yamauchi, Bruce Yannett, and participants in workshops at Boston College Law School, Cambridge University, Columbia Law School, The London School of Economics, New York University School of Law, The Norwegian School of Economics, Oxford University, University College London, and the University of Texas School of Law. The authors also would like to thank their research assistants for their excellent work: Marc-Anthony de Boccard, Alex Dayneka, Janosch Niklas Engelhardt, Christina Faltermeier, Estelle Houser, Anais Kebir, Charlotte Robin, Marcin Sanetra, Koichi Sekine, Jonathan Silverstone, Melanie Simon, William Taylor, Michael Treves, and Benjamin Wylly.

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Too Big to Be Activist – Article by John D. Morley

Article | Corporate Law
Too Big to Be Activist
by John D. Morley*

From Vol. 92, No. 6 (September 2019)
92 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1407 (2019)

 

Abstract

Big investment managers, such as Vanguard and Fidelity, have accumulated an astonishing amount of common stock in America’s public companies—so much that they now have enough corporate votes to control entire industries. What, then, will these big managers do with their potential power?

This Article argues that they will do less than we might think. And the reason is paradoxical: the biggest managers are too big to be activists. Their great size creates intense internal conflicts of interest that make aggressive activism extremely difficult or even impossible.

The largest managers operate hundreds of different investment funds, including mutual funds, hedge funds, and other vehicles that all invest in the same companies at the same times. This structure inhibits activism, because it turns activism into a source of internal conflict. Activism by one of a manager’s funds can damage the interests of the manager’s other funds. If a BlackRock hedge fund invests in a company’s equity, for instance, at the same time a BlackRock mutual fund invests in the company’s debt, then any attempt by either fund to turn the company in its favor will harm the interests of the other fund. The hedge fund and mutual fund might similarly come into conflict over the political and branding risks of activism and the allocation of costs and profits. Federal securities regulation and poison pills can create even  more conflicts, often turning activism by a hedge fund into serious legal problems for its manager’s entirely passive mutual funds. A big manager, in other words, is like a lawyer with many clients: its advocacy for one client can harm the interests of another.

The debate about horizontal shareholding and index fund activism has ignored this truth. Research on horizontal ownership tends to treat a manager and its funds as though they were a single unit with no differences among them. Traditional analyses of institutional shareholder activism tend to go the opposite direction, treating mutual funds as though they were totally independent with no connection to other funds under the same management.

By introducing a subtler understanding of big managers’ structures, I can make sense of shareholder activism more clearly. Among other things, I show why aggressive activism tends to come entirely from small managers—that is, from the managers whose potential for activism is actually the weakest.

*. Professor of Law, Yale Law School. E-mail: john.morley@yale.edu. I thank Mark Andriola, Aslihan Asil, Eli Jacobs, John Jo, and Alex Resar for excellent research assistance. For helpful conversations and comments, I thank Vince Buccola, Florian Ederer, Marcel Kahan, Roy Katzovicz, Chuck Nathan, Roberta Romano, Dorothy Shapiro, Robert Zack, and workshop participants at the American Law and Economics Association Annual Meeting, Northwestern University Law and Economics Workshop, NYU Institute for Corporate Governance and Finance Corporate Governance Roundtable, UCLA Law School, and the Wharton School Department of Legal Studies and Business Ethics.

 

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The Undesirability of Mandatory Time-Based Sunsets in Dual Class Share Structures: A Reply to Bebchuck and Kastiel

From Volume 93, Postscript (April 2019)
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The Undesirability of Mandatory Time-Based Sunsets in Dual class Share Structures: A Reply to Bebchuk and Kastiel

Bernard S. Sharfman[*]

In a 2017 Virginia Law Review article, The Untenable Case for Perpetual Dual-Class Stock,[1] Professors Lucian Bebchuk and Kobi Kastiel argued that time-based sunset provisions (the forced unification of shares into one share structure with equal voting rights after a certain period of time) should be a mandatory feature of dual class share structures (classes of common stock with unequal voting rights). This article has recently been used as authority by the Council of Institutional Investors (“CII”) to petition to the NASDAQ Stock Market (“NASDAQ”) and the New York Stock Exchange (“NYSE”) to amend their listing standards.[2] The requested amendments would require companies seeking to go public with dual class shares to include in their certificates of incorporation a time-based sunset provision that would go into effect no more than seven years after the initial public offering (“IPO”) unless minority shareholders vote to extend it up to an additional seven years.[3] This delayed unification based on a shareholder vote is incorporated in Bebchuk and Kastiel’s argument.[4]

This Article, which is based on comment letters I sent in response to the CII’s petitions,[5] argues that such a mandatory provision would be extremely unwise and harmful to our most important public companies and their shareholders, current as well as future. As a creation of private ordering, the absence of time-based sunset provisions in dual class share structures serves a significant value enhancing purpose. It prevents the risk that a premature and therefore sub-optimal unification of shares may occur. This risk has so far been ignored by those advocating for the implementation of a mandatory time-based sunset provision. As subsequently discussed, this risk has been ignored because their analysis lacks an appreciation for how the positive skewness in stock market returns negatively impacts the value of mandatory time-based sunset provisions.

I.In the Face of Private Ordering, Why the Controversy?

Market realities do not allow most companies to enter the public markets with dual class shares[6] and not every company with dual class shares is able to omit a time-based sunset provision.[7] This differentiation between IPOs is the result of private ordering. In the words of former SEC Commissioner Troy Paredes, private ordering is the freedom provided by corporate law that “allows the internal affairs of each corporation to be tailored to its own attributes and qualities, including its personnel, culture, maturity as a business, and governance practices.”[8] As several scholars have noted, “observed governance choices are the result of value maximizing contracts between shareholders and management.”[9]

Specific to dual class shares, Adena Friedman, President and CEO of Nasdaq, Inc. has said the following:

One of America’s greatest strengths is that we are a magnet for entrepreneurship and innovation. Central to cultivating this strength is establishing multiple paths entrepreneurs can take to public markets. Each publicly-traded company should have flexibility to determine a class structure that is most appropriate and beneficial for them, so long as this structure is transparent and disclosed up front so that investors have complete visibility into the company. Dual class structures allow investors to invest side-by-side with innovators and high growth companies, enjoying the financial benefits of these companies’ success.[10]

In sum, private ordering creates a strong presumption that the absence of time-based sunset provisions in many dual class share structures is value enhancing and should not be interfered with by regulatory authorities.

Unfortunately, this does not end the story. There are a number of institutional investors, such as public pension funds and investment advisers to mutual funds, as well as corporate governance activists and commentators, who analyze corporate governance arrangements not through the lens of private ordering but through the lens of shareholder democracy or empowerment.[11] This can cause one to lose sight of what is really important: making sure corporate governance arrangements are used to maximize the wealth of shareholders. It also leads to attacks on private ordering and calls for limitations on its use.

In the case of dual class shares, the attacks have been strong and impactful. For example, the two leading index providers, S&P Dow Jones Indices and FTSE Russell, have succumbed to the pressure and have taken steps to exclude dual class shares from their indices.[12] More recently, as found in the CII proposal described above, the attacks on dual class shares have focused on the absence of time-based sunset provisions in IPOs and the call for their mandatory inclusion.

II.The Argument for Mandatory Time-Based Sunset Provisions

Zohar Goshen and Assaf Hamdani argue that talented insiders may possess an “idiosyncratic vision” that allows their companies to earn excess returns.[13] Idiosyncratic vision is a term coined by Zohar Goshen and Assaf Hamdani and has two parts:

First, it reflects the parts of the entrepreneur’s business idea that outsiders may be unable to observe or verify. This could be because the entrepreneur cannot persuade investors that she is the best person to continue running the firm or that her business plan will produce superior returns. Second, it reflects the above-market pecuniary return expected by the entrepreneur, which, if the business succeeds, will be shared on a pro rata basis between the entrepreneur and investors. Importantly, idiosyncratic vision need not concern an innovation or new invention: as long as the entrepreneur has a plan that she subjectively believes will result in above-market returns, she has idiosyncratic vision.[14]

Therefore, it is not unreasonable to argue that dual class share structures add value by protecting talented insiders from the interference and distraction caused by restive and uninformed shareholders.[15] For example, back in 2012, Mark Zuckerberg faced a lot of criticism for his decision to have Facebook purchase Instagram for an expected closing price of $1 billion.[16] This acquisition occurred just one month before the company issued its dual class shares to the public.[17] To add fuel to the fire, Zuckerberg entered into the agreement without informing his board of directors.[18] To make matters worse, the price of Facebook stock fell like a rock shortly after its IPO, down 54% after four months of public trading.[19] As late as July 2015, analysts were still wondering if the acquisition would earn money for Facebook.[20]

During that time period, without a dual class share structure to protect him, Zuckerberg may have felt quarterly pressure to prove that he had made the right decision, thereby leading him into poor decisionmaking.[21] Moreover, the board may eventually have had second thoughts about allowing the very young Zuckerberg to retain operational control of the company.[22] Instagram is now estimated to have a market value of over $100 billion.[23]

Nevertheless, it is reasonable to argue that the value of a leader’s idiosyncratic vision erodes over time.[24] Even if it doesn’t erode over a leader’s lifetime, the leader’s mortality will surely put an end to his or her competitive advantage. The point being that once this value approaches zero, the value of the dual class structure will also approach zero. Moreover, if the governance arrangement is simply used to allow the controller to act opportunistically, then the shares would trade at a discount to their unification price.

It is also reasonable to argue that a company leader, who has decided to sell most of his or her shares over time and retain only a minority of the company’s shares outstanding, may avoid the unification of shares even though the value of the dual class share structure has passed and unification would yield a premium. The purpose of such a strategy would be to retain voting control of the company. To retain control, the controller would sell his or her shares with low voting power but retain shares with high voting power. This gap between share ownership and voting power is commonly referred to as the “wedge.”[25]

As Professors Bebchuk and Kastiel explain, the reason for the controller’s resistance to unification, even though the benefits of a dual class structure have passed, is “that the controller would capture only a fraction of the efficiency gains [of unification], which would be shared by all shareholders, but would fully bear the cost of forgoing the private benefits of control associated with the dual class structure.”[26] And indeed, empirical evidence appears to bear this out,[27] even though Professors Jill Fisch and Steven Solomon have taken issue with the methodologies that are used in these studies.[28] Nevertheless, it would appear that the problem of controllers wanting to delay unification, even though unification would provide a boost to the share price, is a valid concern for those investing in dual class shares without time-based sunset provisions.

In sum, based on the analysis found in this Part, the inclusion of a time-based sunset provision makes some sense. However, to come to the conclusion that they must be mandatory in every single dual class share structure one must go farther and rebut the strong presumption that private ordering is value enhancing for shareholders. To rebut this presumption, strong evidence of some sort of irrationality or market failure must be found when market participants refuse to include time-based sunset provisions in IPOs. As discussed in Part III, such evidence does not exist.

III.An Explanation for the Persistent Absence of Time-Based Sunset Provisions

It can be assumed that the downside of dual class shares without time-based sunset provisions as discussed in Part II is now common knowledge to market participants. Evidence for this is the recently reported increase in the use of time-based sunset provisions.[29] Yet, dual class share structures without such provisions remain in the majority.[30] For example, the Lyft IPO included a provision requiring unification upon the death or total disability of the last of the co-founders (event-based sunset provision), but not a time-based sunset provision.[31] Therefore, there must be something missing in the prior analysis that makes the absence of such a provision appealing to market participants. That missing element can be found in the path-breaking work of Professor Henrick Bessembinder.[32]

Professor Bessembinder observed that there is a significant amount of positive skewness in the returns of individual public companies that have made up the stock market from July 1926 to December 2016.[33] He found that “in terms of lifetime dollar wealth creation” (“accumulated December 2016 value in excess of the outcome that would have been obtained if the invested capital had earned onemonth Treasury bill returns”)[34] “the best-performing 4% of listed companies explain the net gain for the entire US stock market since 1926, as other stocks collectively matched Treasury bills.”[35] His results also showed that the sum of the individual contributions to lifetime dollar wealth creation provided by the top 50 companies represented almost 40% of total lifetime dollar wealth creation.[36] Thus, the returns earned by a relatively small number of best-performing companies were critical to the stock market earning returns above short-term Treasuries.

The understanding that positive skewness exists in stock market returns means that investors are best served if those select few firms that are expected to be the best performers in terms of returns are provided governance arrangements that give them the best shot of reaching their optimum. Governance arrangements can support this objective by making sure that the leadership skills that exist in a company at the time of its IPO are given the maximum opportunity to be utilized. This is likely why only a few select firms are provided dual class share structures without time-based sunset provisions.

While not every company that has a dual class structure without a time-based sunset provision will hit the highest of heights, the results appear to bear out that this private ordering strategy has been highly successful. Included in Bessembinder’s top fifty list of wealth creators are four companies with dual class share structures without time-based sunset provisions: Alphabet, Facebook, Berkshire Hathaway,[37] and Comcast. If Bessembinder were to rerun the numbers through 2018, it appears that another such company, Nike, would also be in the top fifty or very close to it. It is also interesting to note that these highly successful companies vary significantly in terms of the number of years from the date when they first went public with dual class shares and that in most cases the number of years out are significantly greater than seven: Alphabet (fifteen years), Facebook (seven years), Berkshire Hathaway (twenty-three years), Comcast (forty-one years), and Nike (thirty-eight years).

As of March 19, 2019, the current market values of these five best performers are quite mind-boggling: Alphabet ($835 billion), Facebook ($461 billion), Berkshire Hathaway ($505 billion), Comcast ($180 billion), and Nike ($110 billion). Together, these five companies have a market value of over $2 trillion. No wonder market participants and investors are willing to provide a small select number of firms with dual class shares that omit time-based sunset provisions. The absence of these provisions are a small price to pay—the lost returns resulting from delayed unification—for helping to make sure that those companies that are expected to be the stock market’s best performers are allowed to reach their full wealth creating potential.

Yes, on average dual class shares may persist too long without time-based sunset provisions, creating a situation where eventually a very small number of dual class shares companies that have not failed, been acquired, or have not gone through a process of voluntary unification, may have common stock that trades below their unification price. It is interesting to note that these companies are so few in number that supporters of mandatory time-based sunset provisions can only point to one that is of any significance: Sumner Redstone’s control of CBS and Viacom through National Amusements Inc.[38] However, this is not what market participants are interested in when negotiating such a governance arrangement in an IPO with dual class shares. They are willing to take the risk of delayed unification if it provides the maximum opportunity for a leader’s idiosyncratic vision to result in that company generating large asymmetric returns.

Finally, the idea of having a mandatory shareholder vote to determine if a dual class share structure should continue for up to another seven years creates new governance problems and does not solve the problem of premature unification. First, such a requirement puts pressure on a company’s leadership to make the objective of its decisionmaking the maintenance of its voting control, not the leveraging of the leader’s idiosyncratic vision for the economic benefit of its shareholders. This cannot be beneficial for shareholders or the company.

Second, according to Professors Fisch and Solomon, “[a]ny expectation that a vote of existing minority shareholders will function efficiently to identify situations in which there is value to retaining a dual class structure is highly problematic.”[39] Shareholders suffer from the problems of asymmetric information and the simple inability to make the proper evaluation of a leader’s idiosyncratic vision.[40] This leaves shareholders in the position of having the knowledge that ending the dual class share structure will expose the shares to the market for corporate control and hedge fund activism, an expected positive for the company’s share price, without being able to evaluate the cost. Since the greater risk to shareholders is cutting off the dual class share structure too soon, assuming it is a company that is still implementing the leader’s idiosyncratic vision which will lead to above market returns, this makes a shareholder vote on ending the dual class structure an extremely high-risk proposition for both the company’s shareholders and its leadership.

Conclusion

How the governance arrangements of IPOs are determined is best handled by market participants through the process of private ordering. If the market is concerned about dual class share structures creating family dynasties, then it will at least include an event-based sunset provision such as unification upon the death or disability of the controller. Consistent with that approach, the argument made by Professors Bebchuk and Kastiel, as reflected in the petitions presented by the CII to the NASDAQ and NYSE, will disrupt private ordering and lead to harmful results for dual class share companies and their investors. Professors Fisch and Solomon articulated these concerns in the following manner:

[A] one-size fits all approach to sunsets–like that proposed by the CII ... does not make sense. The time frame necessary for realization of [a] company’s goals is likely to vary depending on the company based on factors like the company’s maturity at the IPO stage, the duration of its business model, and the time required to develop its products or services and bring them to market.[41]

As provided by private ordering, the omission of a time-based sunset provision in dual class share structures has a defined and obvious benefit, protecting the idiosyncratic vision possessed by those companies that have been identified as possibly turning into one of the stock market’s best performers. These are the companies that allow the stock market to generate overall returns that are greater than short-term treasury rates. The cost of delayed unification for a handful of companies may be significant on an individual basis but in terms of the stock market as a whole, the effect appears de minimus. In sum, even if the implementation of a mandatory one-size-fits-all sunset provision only results in inhibiting one company from becoming the next Alphabet or Facebook, it is one company too many.


[*] *. Bernard S. Sharfman is chairman of the Main Street Investors Coalition Advisory Council, an associate fellow of the R Street Institute, and a member of the Journal of Corporation Law’s editorial advisory board. Mr. Sharfman would like to thank Attorney David Berger and Professors John C. Coates IV, Jill Fisch, and Benjamin Means for their helpful comments on the letters that serve as the foundation for this Article. The opinions expressed here are the author’s alone and do not represent the opinions of the commentators or the official position of any organization that the author is associated with.

 [1]. Lucian A. Bebchuk & Kobi Kastiel, The Untenable Case for Perpetual Dual-Class Stock, 103 Va. L. Rev. 585 (2017).

 [2]. Letter from the Council of Institutional Inv’rs, to John Zecca, Senior Vice President, Gen. Counsel North America and Chief Regulatory Officer, NASDAQ Stock Mkt. (Oct. 24, 2018), https://www.cii.org/files/issues_and_advocacy/correspondence/2018/20181024%20NASDAQ%20Petition%20on%20Multiclass%20Sunsets%20FINAL.pdf. The CII sent an identical letter to the NYSE. Letter from Council of Institutional Inv’rs, to Elizabeth King, Chief Regulatory Officer, Intercontinental Exch., Inc. (Oct. 24, 2018), https://www.cii.org/files/issues_and_advocacy/correspondence/2018/20181024%20NYSE%20Petition%20on%20Multiclass%20Sunsets%20FINAL.pdf.

 [3]. It is important to differentiate between a time-based sunset provision and an event-based sunset provision. The latter is tied to a specific event such as the death or disability of the controller or the departure of the controller from the company.

 [4]. Bebchuk & Kastiel, supra note 1, at 623.

 [5]. Letters from Bernard S. Sharfman to John Zecca, Senior Vice President, Gen. Counsel North America and Chief Regulatory Officer, NASDAQ Stock Mkt. (Mar. 21, 2019) and to Elizabeth King, Chief Regulatory Officer, Intercontinental Exch. Inc. (Mar. 21, 2019), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3352177. Please note that this Article shares much of the same textual language as found in these letters. Given that the reader has this upfront knowledge, this Article will not continuously footnote quotes and cites from those letters. 

 [6]. In 2017, a banner year for IPOs with dual class share structures, only 19% of total IPOs had such a structure. Dual-Class IPO Snapshot: 2017–2018 Statistics, Council of Institutional Inv. (Jan. 2, 2019) [hereinafter Dual-Class IPO Snapshot], https://www.cii.org/files/2018Y%20IPO% 20Stats%20for%20Website.pdf. In 2018, only 11% had dual class shares. Id.

 [7]. CII reported that in 2018 5 out of 15 IPOs with dual class share structures had time-based sunset provisions. Id.

 [8]. Troy A. Paredes, Comm’r, U.S. Sec. & Exch. Comm’n, Statement at Open Meeting to Propose Amendments Regarding Facilitating Shareholder Director Nominations (May 20, 2009), http://www.sec.gov/news/speech/2009/spch052009tap.htm.

 [9]. David Larcker et al., The Market Reaction to Corporate Governance Regulation, 101 J. Fin. Econ. 431, 431 (2011).

 [10]. Adena Friedman, The Promise of Market Reform: Reigniting America’s Economic Engine, Harv. L. Sch. F. on Corp. Governance & Fin. Reg. (May 18, 2017), https://corpgov.law.harvard.edu/2017/05/18/the-promise-of-market-reform-reigniting-americas-economic-engine/.

 [11]. Shareholder democracy and empowerment are two intertwined concepts. Shareholder democracy was a term coined in the 1940s that “carried the normative message that greater shareholder participation in corporate governance was both possible and desirable.” Harwell Wells, A Long View of Shareholder Power: From the Antebellum Corporation to the Twenty-First Century, 67 Fla. L. Rev. 1033, 1069 (2015). It is currently associated with the idea of one-share, one-vote. See Usha Rodrigues, The Seductive Comparison of Shareholder and Civic Democracy, 63 Wash. & Lee L. Rev. 1389, 1390 (2006). Shareholder empowerment is essentially the leveraging of shareholder democracy by certain institutional investors. How this concept is to be understood in practice has been powerfully articulated by Delaware Supreme Court Chief Justice Leo Strine:

[T]here is only one set of agents who must be constrained—corporate managers—and the world will be made a better place when corporations become direct democracies subject to immediate influence on many levels from a stockholder majority comprised not of those whose money is ultimately at stake, but of the money manager agents who wield the end-users’ money to buy and sell stocks for their benefit.

Leo E. Strine, Jr., Can We Do Better by Ordinary Investors? A Pragmatic Reaction to the Dueling Ideological Mythologists of Corporate Law, 114 Colum. L. Rev. 449, 451 (2014).

 [12]. See FTSE Russell Voting Rights Consultation Next Steps, FTSE Russell Group 3 (July 2017), http://www.ftse.com/products/downloads/FTSE_Russell_Voting_Rights_Consultation_Next_ Steps.pdf (explaining that the FTSE Russell bars companies from inclusion in its benchmark indexes unless more than 5% of the voting rights are in the hands of public shareholders); see also Minimum Voting Rights Hurdle, v1.3, FTSE Russell Group (Nov. 2018), https://www.ftse.com/products/ downloads/Minimum_Voting_Rights_Hurdle_FAQ.pdf; Press Release, S&P Dow Jones Indices, S&P Dow Jones Indices Announces Decision on Multi-Class Shares and Voting Rules (July 31, 2017), https://www.spice-indices.com/idpfiles/spice-assets/resources/public/documents/561162_spdjimulticlasssharesandvotingrulesannouncement7.31.17.pdf?force_download=true (announcing that the S&P Dow Jones Indices has decided to exclude all new dual class share offerings, including Snap, Inc.’s, from the S&P Composite 1500 and its components, the S&P 500, S&P MidCap 400, and S&P SmallCap 600).

 [13]. Zohar Goshen & Assaf Hamdani, Corporate Control and Idiosyncratic Vision, 125 Yale L.J. 560 (2016).

 [14]. Id. at 567.

 [15]. See id. at 590 (“Uncontestable and indefinite control provides the entrepreneur with maximum ability to realize her idiosyncratic vision . . . .”).

 [16]. Facebook, Inc., Quarterly Report (Form 10-Q) (Sept. 30, 2012), https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/data/1326801/000132680112000006/fb-9302012x10q.htm.

 [17]. Bernard S. Sharfman, A Private Ordering Defense of a Company’s Right to Use Dual Class Share Structures in IPOs, 63 Vill. L. Rev. 1, 1415 (2018).

 [18]. Id.

 [19]. Id.

 [20]. Id.

 [21]. Id.

 [22]. Id.

 [23]. Emily McCormick, Instagram Is Estimated to Be Worth More than $100 Billion, Bloomberg (June 25, 2018), https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2018-06-25/value-of-facebook-s-instagram-estimated-to-top-100-billion.

 [24]. See Bebchuk & Kastiel, supra note 1.

 [25]. Id. at 592.

 [26]. Bebchuk & Kastiel, supra note 1, at 592–93. The private benefits of control may include the hiring of family members instead of more qualified outsiders, self-dealing, or usurping a corporate opportunity. Id. at 603.

 [27]. See Martijn Cremers, Beni Lauterbach & Anete Pajuste, The Life-Cycle of Dual Class Firm Valuation 3538 (European Corp. Governance Inst. Fin. Working Paper No. 550, 2018), https://ssrn.com/abstract=3062895; Hyunseob Kim & Roni Michaely, Sticking Around Too Long? Dynamics of the Benefits of Dual-Class Voting 26 (European Corp. Governance Inst. Fin. Working Paper No. 590, 2019), https://ssrn.com/abstract=3145209.

 [28]. See Jill E. Fisch & Steven Davidoff Solomon, The Problem of Sunsets, B.U. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2019) (manuscript at 11), https://ssrn.com/abstract=3305319. According to Professors Fisch and Solomon, “[t]he primary issue with finance studies of dual class stock is selection effects, namely that the companies that select into dual class structures differ, in important ways, from companies that adopt single class structures.” Id.

 [29]. CII reported that in 2018 five out of 15 IPOs with dual class share structures had time-based sunset provisions. See Dual-Class IPO Snapshot, supra note 6.

 [30]. Id.

 [31]. Lyft, Inc., Registration Statement (Form S-1) at 55 (Mar. 1, 2019), https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/data/1759509/000119312519059849/d633517ds1.htm. For an excellent discussion of the sunset provisions found in the Lyft IPO, see Lucian A. Bebchuk & Kobi Kastiel, The Perils of Lyft’s Dual-Class Structure, Harv. L. Sch. F. on Corp. Governance and Fin. Reg. (Apr. 3, 2019), https://corpgov.law.harvard.edu/2019/04/03/the-perils-of-lyfts-dual-class-structure/.

 [32]. Hendrik Bessembinder, Do Stocks Outperform Treasury Bills? 129 J. Fin. Econ. 440, 44041 (2018).

 [33]. Id. at 440.

 [34]. Id. at 454 tbl.5.

 [35]. Id. at 440.

 [36]. Id. at 454 tbl.5.

 [37]. Berkshire Hathaway is unusual in that it created its dual class share structure through the issuance of Class B shares when it was already a public company and constructively controlled by Warren Buffet. See Berkshire Hathaway, Inc., Prospectus (Form 424B4) at 35 (May 9, 1996), https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/data/109694/0000898430-96-001695.txt [https://perma.cc/L4BN-MCNV]. Prior to the issuance of the Class B shares, Warren Buffet owned 40.2% of the Class A shares and shared voting power over an additional 3.1% of Class A shares. See Berkshire Hathaway, Inc., Proxy Statement (Form DEF 14A) at 5 (May 6, 1996), http://pdf.secdatabase.com/2917/0000109694-96-000012.pdf. Over time, Mr. Buffet has used the dual class share structure to reduce his economic interest in Berkshire Hathaway to 16.5% of the common stock outstanding but has retained constructive control by continuing to hold a 31.4% voting interest through his continued investment in Class A shares. See Berkshire Hathaway, Inc., Proxy Statement (Form DEF 14A) at 7 (May 4, 2019), https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/data/1067983/000119312519076915/d684203ddef14a.htm?mod=article_inline.

 [38]. Bebchuk & Kastiel, supra note 1, at 58788.

 [39]. Fisch & Solomon, supra note 28, at 19.

 [40]. Id. at 20.

 [41]. Id. at 17.

 

Regulating Bankruptcy Bonuses – Article by Jared A. Ellias

 

From Volume 92, Number 3 (March 2019)
DOWNLOAD PDF


 

Regulating Bankruptcy Bonuses

Jared A. Ellias[*]

In 2005, the perception that wealthy executives were being rewarded for failure led Congress to ban Chapter 11 firms from paying retention bonuses to senior managers. Under the new law, debtors could still pay bonuses to executivesbut only “incentive” bonuses triggered by accomplishing challenging performance goals that go beyond merely remaining employed. This Article uses newly collected data to examine how this reform changed bankruptcy practice. While relatively fewer firms use court-approved bonus plans after the reform, the overall level of executive compensation appears to be similar, perhaps because the new regime left large gaps that make it easy for firms to bypass the 2005 law and pay managers without the judge’s permission. This Article argues that the new law was undermined by institutional weaknesses in Chapter 11, as bankruptcy judges are poorly situated to analyze bonus plans and creditors have limited incentives to police executive compensation themselves.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

I. The Rise of Bankruptcy Bonuses and the 2005 Bankruptcy Reforms

A. The Rise of Bonuses as a Prominent Feature of
Chapter 11 Bankruptcy

B. As the Economy Fell into Recession in the Early 2000s,
the Public Salience and Controversy over Chapter 11 Bonuses Increased

C. Congress Empowers the Oversight of Managers and Restricts Retention Bonuses with the 2005 Reform

II. Theoretical Problems with the 2005 Reform

III. Evidence of Design Problems in the 2005 Reform

A. Sample and Data Gathering

B. Assessing Evidence of Design Flaws in the 2005 Reform

1. Assessing the Effect of the Reform: Evidence of
Higher Costs and Regulatory Evasion.

2. Assessing the Limitations of the Bankruptcy Judge

3. Assessing the Role of Creditors and the U.S. Trustee

IV. The Case for RETHINKING the 2005 Reform

Conclusion

Appendix: Methodology FOR Analyzing
Bankruptcy Costs

 

Introduction

When large firms struggle financially, they usually restructure by firing employees, cutting the pay of those who remain, and cancelling promised pensions. While these measures are often necessary, they can seem unfair when highly paid senior managers do not appear to share in the pain.[1] This unfairness became a major public issue in the early 2000s, as formerlyhigh-flying titans of corporate America like K-Mart, Enron, and WorldCom filed for headline-grabbing Chapter 11 bankruptcies and subsequently paid millions of dollars in bonuses to senior managers.[2] The ensuing public outrage contributed to a growing sense that the economy had become rigged in favor of high-level executives who prospered no matter how poorly their companies fared.[3]

In 2005, Congress responded to this public outcry by banning Chapter 11 debtors from paying retention bonuses to high-level executives.[4] This legal reform eliminated part of then-existing bankruptcy practice, as the largest firms typically paid retention bonuses shortly after filing for bankruptcy on the theory that bonuses were needed to keep employees working hard to turn the firm around.[5] However, the reform did not ban Chapter 11 debtors from paying any type of bonus to senior managersonly bonuses triggered by a manager’s mere continued employment. Under the new regime, Chapter 11 debtors can pay bonuses if they convince a bankruptcy judge that the bonuses are “incentive” bonuses, or bonuses managers would only receive if they accomplish specific, challenging performance goals.[6]

This Article offers the first comprehensive analysis and empirical study of how the 2005 law changed corporate bankruptcy practice. As further explained below, the data suggest that the reform appears to have had little substantive effect on executive compensation.[7] The evidence suggests that this is primarily due to two flaws that undermine the reform. First, the new law only regulates payments characterized as bonuses during the period when firms are in Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Firms can easily sidestep the new law by paying managers before or after the bankruptcy case, and many appear to have done so.[8] Second, bankruptcy law institutions have struggled to administer the law. A rule that bans retention bonuses while allowing incentive bonuses requires bankruptcy judges to make fact-intensive determinations about the “challengingness” of a proposed bonus plan. Unfortunately, bankruptcy judges often lack the information and expertise necessary to perform this inquiry.[9] Although creditors would appear to be well-situated to assist the judge and scrutinize executive compensation themselves, they have little economic incentive to quibble over relatively small bonuses, because doing so might anger the managers with whom they need to negotiate more important Chapter 11 issues.

This Article proceeds as follows. Part I describes how bankruptcy bonuses became a frequent subject of public outrage and how Congress changed the law in 2005 to alter the process through which Chapter 11 debtors pay executive bonuses. Part II explains potential flaws in the design of the reform and develops hypotheses about how those design flaws arguably doomed its implementation. Part III summarizes the sampling and data gathering methodologies and then presents evidence that illustrates the design flaws predicted in Part II. One question that this Article does not answer is whether there actually was a problem that needed fixing prior to the 2005 reform. Most Chapter 11 attorneys appear to believe so, but this is an empirical question that is impossible to answer with available data. However, because the evidence presented in this Article does not support the view that Chapter 11 executive compensation was improved by the reform, Part IV argues that Congress should rethink the 2005 reform.

I.  The Rise of Bankruptcy Bonuses and the 2005 Bankruptcy Reforms

Part I first summarizes how the phrase “bankruptcy bonus” entered the public lexicon and why these bonuses became so controversial. Next, I explore the legislative history of the 2005 reform, before discussing the ways in which the new law altered the ability of Chapter 11 debtors to pay bonuses to their executives.

A.  The Rise of Bonuses as a Prominent Feature of Chapter 11 Bankruptcy

For the first two decades of the Bankruptcy Act of 1978, bonus plans approved by bankruptcy judges were not an important part of bankruptcy practice.[10] The new Bankruptcy Code contained few provisions dealing with executive compensation, and bankruptcy courts routinely granted uncontroversial motions to pay employees their promised salaries.[11] This quiet period ended in the early twenty-first century, as Chapter 11 debtors and the law firms advising them developed a practice of paying retention bonuses outside the ordinary course of business after filing for bankruptcy.[12] Generally, firms that wanted to pay retention bonuses would file a motion asking the judge to approve “Key Employee Retention Plans,” or “KERPs,” which created schedules of payments of retention bonuses.[13]

Chapter 11 debtors offered two main justifications for why they needed to pay retention bonuses. First, they usually pointed to the value that the debtor’s current employees contribute to the restructuring effort.[14] Incumbent employees often have firm-specific knowledge that would be costly to lose and hard to replicate in new employees.[15] Even if the knowledge could be replicated, Chapter 11 debtors may fear that they will have trouble attracting new employees because new hires might hesitate before accepting a job with a bankrupt company.[16]

Second, many debtors claimed that they needed to update their compensation practices to avoid underpaying employees.[17] This underpayment problem arose because of the growing complexity of executive pay packages.[18] At a high level, executive compensation consists of two components: (1) a “base” payment, (2) and a “bonus” payment. The base payment is what we usually think of as salary; the amount of money that a manager expects to be paid for showing up to work every day.[19] The bonus payment is a catchall term that consists of all performance-related pay, such as rewards for achieving a sales goal or remaining an employee of the firm for a certain period of time.[20] Increasingly, in the early 1990s, large firms began to rely on bonus compensation, creating new pressure to update performancecompensation policies to reflect changes in the firm’s business and the disruption created by bankruptcy.[21] Accordingly, Chapter 11 debtors argued that they needed to pay retention bonuses to avoid paying valuable employees significantly less money than they were accustomed to making, undermining morale and retention.[22]

B.  As the Economy Fell into Recession in the Early 2000s, the Public Salience and Controversy over Chapter 11 Bonuses Increased

These retention bonus plans became the subject of controversy in the early 2000’s for three main reasons. First, the public spectacle of a failed firm paying millions of dollars in bonuses to senior managers while firing workers naturally led to populist outrage.[23] The controversy over bankruptcy-related pay echoed the still-raging public controversy over the high levels of executive pay, which seemed unfair to many observers and was especially salient after the dot-com bust sent the nation into recession.[24]

Second, the bonuses attracted criticism from some commentators who worried that the public nature of the payments and the large amount of media attention that they attracted were undermining public confidence in the bankruptcy process.[25]

Third––and most importantly from the perspective of bankruptcy policy––some observers believed that management was exploiting the basic structure of Chapter 11 to extract undeserved pay.[26] When a firm files for bankruptcy, existing management remains in control of the business, giving managers great influence over the firm and its stakeholders.[27] Management’s control over the bankruptcy process can lead the board of directors and even creditors to seek to pay managers for desired outcomes, such as enticing management to agree to sell the firm.[28] The dislocations created by bankruptcy can also provide management with bargaining power.[29] The board of directors may fear that the departure of a key executive would seriously reduce the prospect of a successful reorganization, creating an opportunity for opportunistic managers to demand more pay than they deserve.[30] This agency problem threatens the basic structure of Chapter 11 bankruptcy, a process in which a firm’s asset value is supposed to be maximized for the benefit of pre-bankruptcy creditors, not the personal wealth of incumbent managers.

Of course, the Bankruptcy Code recognizes the power that management has over a corporation in bankruptcy and thus creates a strong system of checks and balances to counterbalance managerial power.[31] The first line of defense is the federal bankruptcy judge, who must approve any payment of bonuses.[32] Next, bankruptcy law appoints an “[o]fficial [c]ommittee of [u]nsecured [c]reditors” to act as a “watchdog” that scrutinizes management’s business decisions.[33] This committee is generally composed of some of the firm’s major creditors, who stand to receive lower payouts at the end of the bankruptcy case if the firm overpays management.[34] The committee will usually have a high-powered law firm and investment bank assisting them, and they will analyze any proposed bonus plan to determine whether it overpays managers.[35] To the extent that creditors believe management is extracting undeserved pay, they can file written objections informing the judge of the bonus plan’s problems and negotiate in the shadow of those objections and the right to object.[36]

Further, the Department of Justice’s United States Trustee Program provides a second level of governmental oversight that helps the bankruptcy judge assess the motions in front of her.[37] Congress created the United States Trustee Program as a part of the Bankruptcy Act of 1978 to oversee the then-new system of bankruptcy courts.[38] Each district has its own Office of the United States Trustee, which generally consists of several attorneys and other legal professionals.[39] These lawyers supervise all bankruptcy cases, looking for evidence that bankruptcy law is being abused.[40] The United States Trustee has the right to file an objection of its own if it determines that management is using its control of the corporation to extract excessive compensation.[41]

Prior to the 2005 reform, this system of checks and balances lay dormant because bankruptcy law instructed the judge to defer to management in determining if bonuses were needed.[42] Chapter 11 debtors only needed to convince the judge that a proposed retention bonus plan was the product of reasonable business judgment.[43] This was an easy standard to satisfy, and firms would do so by arguing that the employees were important to the successful reorganization of the business[44] and that the board of directors engaged in some sort of deliberative process to develop the plan.[45]

C.  Congress Empowers the Oversight of Managers and Restricts Retention Bonuses with the 2005 Reform

This equilibrium changed when Congress banned retention bonuses as part of the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005 (the “BAPCPA).[46] Congress sought to “eradicate the notion that executives were entitled to bonuses simply for staying with the Company through the bankruptcy process.”[47] After the reform, bankruptcy judges were only allowed to authorize Chapter 11 debtors to pay “incentive” bonuses, typically through a formal “Key Employee Incentive Plan” (KEIP).[48] In theory, KEIPs tie any bonus payments to the achievement of challenging performance goals, such as improving the firm’s financial performance or attaining a milestone in the bankruptcy process like confirming a plan of reorganization.[49] As a result, bankruptcy judges found themselves with the challenging new task of evaluating proposed bonus plans to determine if they were permissible incentive plans or “disguised retention plans” that did not actually challenge management.[50]

Consider a hypothetical bonus plan that pays an executive if the firm’s revenue increases by 10 percent. Is this an incentive plan or a retention plan? The answer turns on how likely it is for that anticipated revenue increase to occur.[51] An executive who commits to such a plan may very well have private information regarding an imminent sale to a major customer that will yield the 10 percent increase, making the incentive plan a “disguised retention plan” that rewards the manager for remaining employed without requiring extra effort and accomplishment to earn the bonus.[52] On the other hand, in some cases a 10 percent increase in revenue could be highly unlikely and something management can only achieve with extra effort.[53] How can one proposed bonus plan be distinguished from another? In the seminal case interpreting the 2005 reform, Judge Burton I. Lifland of the Southern District of New York declared “if it walks like a duck (KERP) and quacks like a duck (KERP), it’s a duck (KERP).”[54]

Judge Lifland also identified several factors that bankruptcy courts should analyze to determine if a proposed bonus plan creates challenging incentive bonuses or disguised retention bonuses:

Is there a reasonable relationship between the plan proposed and the results to be obtained, i.e., will the key employee stay for as long as it takes for the debtor to reorganize or market its assets, or, in the case of a performance incentive, is the plan calculated to achieve the desired performance?

Is the cost of the plan reasonable in the context of the debtor’s assets, liabilities and earning potential?

Is the scope of the plan fair and reasonable; does it apply to all employees; does it discriminate unfairly?

Is the plan or proposal consistent with industry standards?

What were the due diligence efforts of the debtor in investigating the need for a plan; analyzing which key employees need to be incentivized; what is available; what is generally applicable in a particular industry?

Did the debtor receive independent counsel in performing due diligence and in creating and authorizing the incentive compensation?[55]

To summarize, the 2005 reform is best understood as creating new responsibilities for Chapter 11 debtors, the bankruptcy judges, and the Department of Justice’s United States Trustee Program, while providing new bargaining power for creditors. Prior to the reform, a Chapter 11 debtor could easily obtain a judge’s permission to pay bonuses by demonstrating a plausible business justification.[56] After the reform, Chapter 11 debtors can only pay bonuses if they convince a judge that a proposed bonus plan requires management to demonstrate extra effort and skill. The standard developed in the Dana Corp., and re-articulated above, requires the debtor to present evidence of industry and firm practices to demonstrate the reasonableness of the overall level of compensation, as well as the structure that would trigger the payment of bonuses. In making this case, Chapter 11 debtors typically present the testimony of an independent compensation consultant that helped to develop the incentive plan. The judge then must weigh significantly more evidence and make more findings of fact than was the case prior to the 2005 reform. This new bargaining dynamic empowers creditors, who can investigate a proposed bonus plan, file an objection, and negotiate to change the plan in the shadow of the objection.[57]

II.  Theoretical Problems with the 2005 Reform

This Part describes theoretical flaws that undermine the bankruptcy system’s then-newfound mandate to police executive compensation in bankruptcy. These flaws lead to three testable hypotheses about the reform, which are respectively analyzed using empirical evidence in Section III.B.

As a general rule, laws that leave gaps create incentives for regulatory evasion.[58] The 2005 reform only affects bonuses paid through court-approved bonus plans in Chapter 11. This narrow scope allows firms to simply sidestep the regulation by paying managers prior to filing for bankruptcy or waiting until a Chapter 11 case ends to adjust management’s compensation retroactively. Indeed, the reform likely created financial incentives for firms to engage in evasion, as the additional work that law firms need to do to meet the new standard is costly.

Accordingly, hypothesis one is that firms will respond to the increased costs of proposing a bankruptcy bonus plan by evading the new regulation and paying managers through channels unaffected by the 2005 reform.[59]

Further, the reform places bankruptcy judges in the challenging position of distinguishing permissible incentive plans from forbidden retention plans. To do so, judges must assess ex ante the likelihood that a triggering event will occur. If a performance goal is likely to occur without additional managerial effort, the judge should reject it as a disguised retention plan that rewards management for remaining employed. This is a difficult analysis. The boards of directors and managers that develop bonus plans presumably know their businesses better than the judge, placing the judge at a disadvantage in evaluating a bonus plan. Further, judges are bankruptcy lawyers and lack subject-matter expertise in executive compensation, let alone specific knowledge of the firm’s industry. Moreover, even in a world with perfect information, the judge would still struggle to perform this analysis because the line between retention and incentive plans is very thin. All incentive plans have some retentive element, as employees often remain in jobs to earn promised bonuses.[60]

Therefore, hypothesis two is that bankruptcy judges are unlikely to be able to screen out all but the most obviously disguised retention plans, and the bonus plans that are approved are unlikely to be significantly different in substance than the bonus plans prior to the reform.[61]

The challenges that bankruptcy judges face are exacerbated by the incentives that creditors have to use their bargaining power to police executive compensation.[62] One of the main reasons that executive compensation theorists have long sought to empower investors with a greater voice in determining executive pay is because of the belief that the excess compensation paid to managers reduces the returns to investors.[63] Superficially, this is the case in Chapter 11 as well, as creditors are generally the firm’s residual claimant and thus the losers if the firm overpays management. However, executive bonuses affect such a small amount of value in large Chapter 11 casessingle-digit millions when the firm’s assets can potentially be worth billionsthat we would expect creditors might decline to spend the time and money required to actively police executive compensation.

Further, the bankruptcy judge is unlikely to get much help from the Department of Justice’s U.S. Trustee Program. In theory, the Department of Justice only has incentives to enforce bankruptcy law, and the 2005 reform created a new Congressional policy of policing abuses in executive compensation. In practice, the U.S. Trustee suffers from the same informational asymmetries and expertise deficits that limit a judge’s effectiveness in evaluating a proposed bonus plan. The 2005 reform did not provide extra money to hire compensation experts to help the lawyers in the U.S. Trustee’s office analyze proposed bonus plans.

Accordingly, hypothesis three is that the bankruptcy judges are unlikely to receive much help from creditors and the U.S. Trustee. Creditors have weak incentives, on average, to invest the time and resources required to police executive compensation aggressively. The U.S. Trustee lacks the necessary expertise to perform the role assigned to it by Congress.[64]

III.  Evidence of Design Problems in the 2005 Reform

Part III presents an account of the flaws that undermine the 2005 reform. Section III.A first describe the data gathering methodology and the sample of bankruptcy cases. In Section III.B, evidence from the empirical study tests the hypotheses developed in Part II.

A.  Sample and Data Gathering

To study the reform, I gathered two samples of data: (1) a large sample that represents the population of large companies that filed for Chapter 11 between 2001 and 2012 with traded debt or equity and (2) a smaller case study sample of cases from before and after the statutory change to examine bonus plans (and bankruptcy litigation) in a more comprehensive and detailed way. Both samples are drawn from Next Generation Research’s list of large company bankruptcies from 2001 to 2012.[65] I describe the construction of the large sample and the case study sample in turn.

The large sample consists of all large companies from Next Generation Research’s list of large company bankruptcies from 2001 to 2012 that traded debt or equity. I focus on firms with publicly traded debt or equity because those firms have obligations to file disclosures with the Securities and Exchange Commission (“SEC”), so information on firm compensation practices are available. Nearly all of the largest firms to file for bankruptcy have traded debt or equity, and this larger sample is very close to the population of large companies that restructured their debt in Chapter 11 court proceedings between January 1, 2001 and December 31, 2012.

I identified the firms included in the larger sample through the following procedure.[66] For each of the 1,998 large firms that filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy between 2001 and 2012, I looked for matches in the list of debt or equity issued by large firms that traded in the databases kept by TRACE, MarkIt, and Bloomberg.[67] For example, if I found that a firm filed for bankruptcy on January 3, 2003, I looked for trades in that firm’s debt or equity entered on or after that date. This larger sample consists of 408 cases. For each of the firms in the sample, I collected extensive information about the firm and the bankruptcy case from the court docket and important pleadings. Most importantly, I recorded whether the firm sought judicial approval of a bankruptcy bonus plan and identified which, if any, bonus plans were approved by the bankruptcy judge. For all of these firms, I also examined their securities filings to obtain additional information on how the firm historically compensated its executives.[68]

I collected the case study sample using a similar method. I again began with the list of all firms listed in Next Generation Research’s database of corporate bankruptcies, including those without traded debt or equity.[69] The case study sample comes from two time periods. First, I collected a “before” sample of every large bankruptcy case from Next Generation Research’s list of large corporate bankruptcies that filed between January 1, 2004 and April 20, 2005, the date that BAPCPA was signed into law by President George W. Bush. I begin with January 1, 2004, because older dockets are generally no longer available on the Public Access to Court Electronic Records database (“PACER”). The initial sample consisted of 140 potential Chapter 11 debtors, of which forty-one (approximately 30%) sought judicial approval for a key employee retention or incentive plan. These forty-one Chapter 11 debtors constitute the pre-BAPCPA sample, which I term the “pre-reform” or “pre-2005 reform” sample.

The second case study sample period consists of all firms that filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy between January 1, 2009 and December 31, 2010 that implemented bankruptcy bonus plans. I choose a period four years after the reform because it took several court decisions to settle on a legal standard for adjudicating proposed post-reform incentive plans and lawyers needed time to develop customs to meet that standard.[70] I began with the list of 375 large bankruptcy cases and examined each court docket to look for a proposed bonus plan. The final sample consists of fifty-seven bonus plans filed by debtors that filed for bankruptcy in 2009 and 2010.[71]

I studied each case in the case study sample very closely. In addition to examining the docket and acquiring basic information from court filings, I examined all objections filed by creditors and the United States Trustee to managements’ motions seeking approval of bonus plans. I also compared the bonus plans approved by the court to the original bonus plans to track changes made over the course of the bargaining process. Next, I examined the goals created by the plans and used the date of bankruptcy events, the disclosure statement and subsequent securities disclosures, news stories, and press releases to determine whether management achieved the incentive payout.

Finally, I examined all of the legal bills filed by the debtor’s counsel for the period between the petition date and the bonus plan being approved by the court. When large firms are in Chapter 11 bankruptcy, they ask for (and receive) a court order allowing them to retain a law firm to help them with their bankruptcy.[72] The Chapter 11 debtor then submits its law firm’s legal bills to the court and asks for permission to pay them.[73] The Federal Rules of Bankruptcy Procedure require a detailed statement of the time the attorneys spent on the firm’s legal problems, which in practice translates to the full record of all time charged to the client. I oversaw a team of research assistants that worked together to identify the amount and value of time that law firms spent on bonus plans for both time periods in the case study sample. I provide an illustrative example of this analysis in the Appendix. To my knowledge, this is a new method in the bankruptcy practice literature, and a very labor-intensive one, but it holds significant promise in terms of aiding our understanding of bankruptcy costs.

B.  Assessing Evidence of Design Flaws in the 2005 Reform

The 2005 reform aimed to reduce public outrage over bankruptcy bonuses, force managers to earn their pay, and reduce the overall level of executive compensation. Section III.B uses evidence from the sample to test the hypotheses developed in Part II. In general, I begin with the high-level portrait painted by the larger sample, test for obvious confounding explanations of the findings using regression analysis, and then look closely at the case study sample to reveal a more detailed picture.

1.  Assessing the Effect of the Reform: Evidence of Higher Costs and Regulatory Evasion.

Hypothesis one predicts that the reform will increase the costs associated with bankruptcy bonus plans and lead to regulatory evasion. I begin by assessing the impact of the reform on bankruptcy costs before moving on to the observed frequency of bonus plans and evidence that points to rampant regulatory evasion.

a.  The Effect of the Reform on Bankruptcy Costs

As a threshold matter, by requiring the debtor’s counsel to do extra work to approve a bonus plan, the 2005 reform and Dana Corp. may have increased the costs of bankruptcy.[74] To estimate the size of the increase, I reviewed all of the debtor’s counsel’s bills and identified the time entries corresponding to work on a bankruptcy bonus plan. Pre-reform, the median debtor’s counsel billed $30,484 (mean of $65,198) for work on a bankruptcy bonus plan in constant 2010 U.S. dollars.[75] Post-reform, the median debtor’s counsel billed $86,411 (mean of $140,218) for their work on their debtor’s bonus plans, an increase of 64%. For comparison’s sake, the debtor’s counsel’s bill for the entire bankruptcy case was $5,191,576 in the post-reform sample, as compared to $3,449,969 pre-reform—an increase of 33%. The costs associated with a bankruptcy bonus plan grew twice as fast as the debtor’s counsel’s fees as a whole, suggesting that the new standard significantly increased the amount of legal work the debtor’s attorneys needed to do to comply.[76]

b.  The Effect of the Reform on Bonus Plan Utilization

The observed increase in costs associated with bonus plans is likely to deter other Chapter 11 debtors from implementing them. Sure enough, as Figure 1 shows, relying on the larger sample of the population of Chapter 11 debtors between 2001 and 2012, the percentage of firms filing for bankruptcy that seek a bonus plan falls precipitously after the 2005 reform, going from nearly 60% in 2004 to less than 40% in 2007.

It is difficult to conclude too much by examining the raw proportion of Chapter 11 firms with bonus plans, as the observed change could be a composition effect. For example, 2004 may have featured more firms in industries where bonuses are a larger part of executive compensation than did 2007.[77] I cannot eliminate the possibility that a composition effect drives the shift observed in Figure 1, although it seems unlikely that this would be the whole explanation. I can, however, control for some observable firm characteristics in a regression analysis to test the robustness of the observed post-reform decline in the utilization of bankruptcy bonus plans, specifically by controlling for firm size, industry, and the debtor’s law firm. Table 1 displays those regression results. In Models 1, 2, and 3, I regress a dummy variable for post-2005 reform filing on the likelihood of a bonus plan being proposed, with the second Model adding control variables. In Models 4, 5, and 6, I instead study the likelihood that a bonus plan is approved. In the cases of both proposal and approval, the results are the same: controlling for firm characteristics, firms become less likely to implement bankruptcy bonus plans after the 2005 reform.

c.  The Effect of the Reform on the Overall Level of Executive Compensation

Given that proportionately fewer firms used court-approved bonus plans, it is possible that the overall level of executive compensation was reduced by the reform. To the extent the pre-reform equilibrium was characterized by managerial rent extraction, the reform might have eliminated some opportunistic retention bonus plans that effectively overcompensated managers.

While I am not able to measure overcompensation, I can look for evidence of a change in the level of compensation that managers receive before and after the 2005 reform. I take two approaches to doing so. First, for a subset of the large sample with available data, I calculate the percentage change in CEO compensation in the year prior to bankruptcy and the year the firm filed for bankruptcy.[78] This facilitates comparison of bankruptcy-period compensation to pre-bankruptcyperiod compensation, controlling for the firm’s historic level of compensation.

Second, to make sure that industry changes do not bias the analysis, I adjust each firm’s observed CEO compensation to control for the firm’s industry. For each firm in the sample, I identify the firm’s industry using its three digit SIC code. I then use the ExecuComp dataset to identify S&P 1,500 firms in the same industry as each sample firm to understand how the sample firm’s compensation compared to its industry peers. I then calculated a percentile ranking that reflects how the Chapter 11 debtor compared to its peers in each observed calendar year. So, for example, a firm in the 90th percentile in terms of compensation is a firm that paid their CEO more than 90% of all other firms in the same industry.

As Table 2 shows, I fail to find any statistically significant effect suggesting that the overall level of executive compensation in bankruptcy was altered by the reform. To be sure, my failure to find this relationship does not mean there is not one. This analysis is conducted on a subset of the sample firms highly constrained by data availability, and it is possible that if the analysis included the missing firms the result would be different.[79] There may also be an omitted variable that would uncover an otherwise hidden relationship. However, at the very least, the results suggest that the lower rate of bonus plans might not have changed the overall level of compensation of Chapter 11 executives, relative to pre-bankruptcy compensation and industry trends.

d.  Anecdotal Evidence of Regulatory Evasion

A potential explanation for this result is that firms may simply sidestep court-approved bonus plans to engage in regulatory evasion. I cannot offer comprehensive statistics on how frequently Chapter 11 debtors utilize these strategies, as firms do not necessarily go out of their way to disclose these strategies and are not necessarily required to do so.  I also cannot rule out the possibility that the observed change in bonus plan utilization reflects improved governance of executive compensation. However, I find extensive anecdotal evidence suggesting that many firms are simply paying managers in ways that evade the judicial scrutiny demanded by the reform. There are three main strategies to get around the 2005 reform: (1) adjusting compensation pre-bankruptcy; (2) paying bonuses as part of other bankruptcy court orders that the 2005 reform does not regulate; and (3) waiting until after the firm emerges from bankruptcy to pay bankruptcy related-bonuses. I explain each strategy in turn.

First, the reform does not affect compensation adjustments that firms made before filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy, and some firms appear to have taken advantage of this.[80] A Chapter 11 debtor cannot simply pay management a large bonus on the eve of bankruptcy, as doing so might create an avoidable transfer that creditors could recover.[81] However, at least some firms implemented bankruptcy-related bonus plans prior to filing for Chapter 11 that were overt and open attempts to evade the 2005 reform. For example, OTC Holdings, a manufacturer of party supplies and children’s toys, set up a Key Employee Performance Incentive Plan (KEPIP) to “align the interests of OTC’s key employees with the interests of OTC and its creditors” prior to the firm’s bankruptcy petition.[82] This plan was designed to pay bonuses only after the firm emerged from bankruptcy, which, the firm argued, meant that the Bankruptcy Code’s restrictions on executive bonuses would not apply to the incentive plan.[83] Similarly, the board of directors of Regent Communications implemented a “Special Bonus Plan . . . [which] was triggered upon commencement of the Chapter 11 Cases,” suggesting that OTC is, at the very least, not the only firm that engaged in this sort of bankruptcy planning.[84]

Second, some firms simply “bundled” bankruptcy bonus plans with other, more important motions to evade close court monitoring of bankruptcy-related compensation.[85] When large firms file for bankruptcy, they usually also file a variety of intermediate motions while they try to reorganize their businessa motion for a bonus plan is an example of such an intermediate motionbefore filing a proposed plan of reorganization for the approval of the bankruptcy judge. The plan of reorganization is a lengthy document that contains hundreds of provisions that describe how the firm will leave bankruptcy, how it will pay its creditors, and what the post-bankruptcy life of the company will be. Bankruptcy law instructs the judge to evaluate this document under section 1129 of the Bankruptcy Code.[86] The approval of this document will normally end the bankruptcy case and allow the firm to emerge as a restructured company. Adding a retroactive bankruptcy bonus plan into this document is as simple as adding a single line of text.

By “bundling” the executive bonus plan with the larger plan of reorganization, a Chapter 11 debtor can evade the scrutiny that comes when the bonus plan is squarely before the court. This strategy also puts the judge in a difficult position, as it creates a choice between approving the plan of reorganization (with the bundled executive bonus plan) or rejecting the plan, when rejecting the plan might mean forcing the company to remain in bankruptcy with unknown costs for the business and its employees.

As such, it should not be surprising that “bundling” was the most commonly observed regulatory evasion strategy. For example, in the bankruptcy of Journal Register, management abandoned an attempt to obtain judicial approval of a bankruptcy bonus plan after the pension fund objected. But management did not abandon the goal of paying itself for bankruptcy-related performance. Instead, the company bundled a “bankruptcy emergence bonus” into the plan of reorganization, which, it reasoned, was governed by a different part of the Bankruptcy Code than section 503(c).[87] In evaluating this attempt at bundling, the court first noted that the debtors “filed a motion during the cases for approval of the Incentive Plan, but thereafter withdrew that motion and incorporated the Incentive Plan in the Reorganization Plan.[88] However, the court also pointed out that the plan process involved creditor voting and the creditorswhose money was going to the executivessupported the plan.[89] Accordingly, the judge approved the payment of the bonuses.[90]

Finally, a third strategy to evade court monitoring of bankruptcy-related executive compensation is deferring bonuses for bankruptcy-related conduct for the post-bankruptcy board of directors.[91] Once a firm leaves bankruptcy, it is no longer under judicial supervision and can pay its employees however much it wants. As such, boards of directors can sidestep the 2005 reform by promising management a bonus that is never formally contracted for or paid until the firm emerges from bankruptcy.

While post-bankruptcy executive compensation is, by definition, hard to survey in detail, I did observe strange behavior in the bankruptcy of Citadel Broadcastings, a radio station conglomerate that filed for bankruptcy in late 2009.[92] Citadel proposed a plan of reorganization that, like most cases in the sample, included setting aside a percentage of the firm’s post-reorganization equity for managers.[93] This plan of reorganization was hotly contested by hedge fund creditors, who charged that management was undervaluing the firm and going to profit in the form of underpriced post-bankruptcy stock grants.[94] In response to the criticism, the CEO testified in court,I have tried to get stock and each time I was told I am getting options at market value . . . [that] will vest one-third each year on the anniversary from the time I got those options. So they will be actually vest[ed] three years from now.[95]

The company thus dealt with the charge of self-dealing in an elegant way. Instead of an outright stock grant, management received out-of-the-money or market value stock options, which meant that management could not use those stock grants to extract value that should have gone to creditors. After hearing this testimony, the judge confirmed the plan of reorganization.[96]

This testimony appears to have been forgotten shortly after the firm exited bankruptcy. Less than a month after leaving Chapter 11, reorganized Citadel distributed the stock in the form of restricted stock grants that vested on a twoyear schedule.[97] The CEO alone received $55 million, making him the highest paid manager in the history of the radio industry.[98] These stock grants were only publicly disclosed due to Citadel’s obligations as an issuer of public debt. The disclosures caught the ire of the activist investors who had lost in court at the confirmation hearing.[99] They filed a motion seeking to “prevent one of the most egregious frauds by a company emerging from bankruptcy under Chapter 11.”[100] They noted that this conduct was “fraudulent because Citadel representatives, including [the CEO] himself, repeatedly told this Court, under oath, that they were not getting under the Plan the very securities that they gave themselves only weeks later immediately upon emergence [from bankruptcy.]”[101]

The Citadel Broadcasting Corp. case is an outlier, however. I have not come across any other cases with similar facts. However, the 408 firms in the large sample set aside more than $400 million in post-bankruptcy equity for post-bankruptcy management incentive plans. To be sure, most large companies have some sort of equity incentive plan, and it is entirely in the ordinary course for companies to compensate managers with stock. But other research has noted that creditors sometimes persuade managers to support their incentive plan with lucrative post-bankruptcy employment contracts.[102] Thus, it remains an open question how often managers are rewarded after the firm emerges from bankruptcy for conduct that took place during bankruptcy.

2.  Assessing the Limitations of the Bankruptcy Judge

As hypothesis two discussed above,[103] bankruptcy judges suffer from an informational asymmetry and lack of expertise that make it difficult for them to make the determination that the 2005 reform wants them tothat a bonus plan is an “incentive plan” with challenging goals and not a “disguised retention plan.” To assess this hypothesis, I first examine how the structure of bonus plans changed after the reform and then determine whether the post-2005 bonus plans are substantively different than the retention plans that Congress banned.

 

a.  Changes in Bonus Plan Structure

Table 3 summarizes differences in the structure of bonus plans from the case study sample before and after the reform. As Table 3 shows, the reform clearly changed the structure of bankruptcy bonus plans.[104] While bonus plans did not appear to change much in terms of the amount of money set aside for bonuses, the bonus plans after the reform are much more likely to include some sort of operational or financial target that rewards management for meeting specific performance objectives.[105] Bankruptcy-related objectives remain very popular, such as paying management a bonus when the court confirms a plan of reorganization. But in the post-reform era, approximately 20% of the plans with bankruptcy “milestone” bonuses were tied to the specific milestone occurring by a specific date, which makes them more challenging to accomplish.

b.  Do the Post-Reform Bonus Plans Appear to Be Challenging Incentive Plans?

Of course, these changes could very well be superficial. Unfortunately, much like a bankruptcy judge, I cannot directly measure the extent to which these plans created “truly incentivizing goals,” because that would require perfect knowledge of the facts and circumstances at the time the bonus plan was adopted. Whether a revenue goal is challenging, for example, would depend on observing the probability distribution of hitting the revenue goal, which I obviously cannot do.

I can, however, examine theoretical predictions that indirectly capture an aspect of how challenging the bonus plans would have been considered. First, we would expect the post-reform plans to pay managers at a lower rate than the pre-bankruptcy bonus plans, because challenging performance goals are likely to be missed more often than the pre-bankruptcy retention plans that rewarded managers for staying at their desks. Second, theory would predict that, as the risk associated with a bonus increases, so too should the size of the bonus, to compensate management for the increased risk of not hitting the challenging goal. For example, a $100 bonus might be an effective motivating tool if management knows there is a 100% chance of receiving the payment. But if there is only a 10% chance of receiving the payment, management would need a much larger bonus to provide the same motivation to perform.[106] I assess each of these predictions in turn.

First, I analyzed every stated goal from every court-approved bankruptcy bonus plan in the case study sample. I then used information from the court docket and subsequent public information (such as securities filings) to determine whether the bonus plan paid out.[107] As Table 4 shows, the rate of payout appears to be similar across both time periods.[108] This finding at least casts doubt on the view that the post-reform bonus plans are different as a matter of substance, in addition to being procedurally different from the pre-reform plans.[109]

Second, I examine the schedule of payments under the bonus plan to look for evidence that the payouts were increased to compensate management for the increased risk of an incentive plan. After adjusting the proposed maximum payouts for inflation, I find that CEOs received nearly identical bonuses after the reform as they did under the pre-bankruptcy retention bonus plans. Post-2005, firms implementing court-approved bonus plans planned to pay a 30% year-over-year increase in CEO compensation for the first year of bankruptcy, as compared to 29.3% for the firms implementing bonus plans in the sample years before the reform. A caveat to this analysis is that firms may have wanted to implement bonus plans but felt restricted by the bankruptcy judge, so the observed maximum bonus plans might be censored. However, this finding casts doubt on the argument that these “incentive” bonuses are much riskier than the pre-bankruptcy retention plans.

3.  Assessing the Role of Creditors and the U.S. Trustee

Bankruptcy law, of course, understands that the bankruptcy judge cannot ever know as much about a debtor as its management team and relies on creditors and the Department of Justice’s U.S. Trustee Program to police abuses. As hypothesis three predicts, there are two theoretical problems that might constrain the willingness and ability of the creditors and U.S. Trustee to monitor executive compensation. The first is that the creditors lack strong incentives to invest time and money into monitoring relatively small bonus plans, as bonus plans represent only a small percentage of the overall value on the table in a bankruptcy plan. The second is that the U.S. Trustee suffers from a similar expertise deficit as the judge, making it just as hard for the U.S. Trustee to distinguish challenging incentive plans from disguised retention plans. I analyze evidence of the role played by creditors and the U.S. Trustee Program in turn.

a.  The Observed Role of Creditors

In theory, creditors have limited incentives to police executive compensation. While it is true that creditors are generally the residual claimants of the firm, and thus the party that loses if management extracts unearned compensation,[110] their economic incentives are to focus more on the hundreds of millions or billions of dollars that are at stake in large bankruptcy cases, not the relatively small amount of money involved in bonus plans.

To see how creditors actually used their bargaining power, I reviewed all of the objections the official committee of unsecured creditors filed in response to the firm’s motion seeking bonus plan approval; those objections are summarized in Table 5.[111] There are limits to reviewing the objections of the official committee, as doing so does not reveal how creditors may have negotiated in the shadow of their right to object, nor does it capture how creditors might have influenced bonus plans before they were even proposed by the court. Accordingly, caution is needed in interpreting this Section, as it relies on an incomplete record of creditor influence on negotiations. In the Appendix, I present a summary Table, which shows how bonus plans changed between being proposed on the docket and being approved by the court. The Appendix Table suggests, at least on paper, that Chapter 11 debtors are forced to make performance goals more challenging in response to creditor demands.[112]

As Table 5 shows, official committees became much more litigious after the 2005 reform. They filed written objections to 33% of the proposed bonus plans, a 79% increase from the pre-reform sample. Categorizing the objections, the most common legal argumentexpressed in every case in which the official committee objectedwas that the bonus plan was a disguised retention plan, violating the 2005 reform. This observed litigation is obviously only a small part of their influence, as they almost certainly negotiated in the shadow of their right to object and may have influenced many bonus plans in unobserved ways.

However, creditor objections seldom presented particularized criticisms of the proposed bonus plan. Creditors did file objections to the proposed bonus plans alleging that the compensation level exceeded industry standards in 26% of cases (as compared to 9% before the reform), but that was only 40% of the cases for which an objection was filed. More importantly, creditors only offered evidence from an opposing expert in 8% of cases (as compared to 11% prior to the reform). For the five cases where the official committee complained about the bonus plan exceeding industry standards, one offered evidence from other Chapter 11 cases,[113] one simply pointed to the dire climate of the industry,[114] two complained that the numbers were high without supporting evidence of “competitive compensation in the [company’s] industry,”[115] and one asked for management to provide more information.[116] In no objection in the case study sample was the judge provided with concrete numbers that could be used to compare the bonus plan to an industry standard.

The Foamex Int’l, Inc. bankruptcy litigation provides a representative example of a typical official committee objection to a proposed bonus plan. Foamex’s management originally sought approval of a bonus plan that would pay out in the event that the company successfully sold its assets.[117] The committee first complained that the bonus plan motion was filed “within the first few weeks of the case” and while the debtors were attempting to sell the firm on a faster schedule than the committee wanted.[118] The committee then complained that management was likely not only to get the bankruptcy bonuses but also “generous employment agreements” if the planned sale went through.[119] The committee further deemed the bonus plan targets “effortless” and instead demanded that the company link incentive compensation to “the payment of a dividend to general unsecured creditors.”[120] Nowhere in the objection is there any analysis of the underlying compensation plan itself. There are only bald complaints about how the committee disagreed with the idea of rewarding management for a sale and preferred management receive a bonus in the event a plan of reorganization was approved, preferably one paying unsecured creditors a significant recovery.[121]

Other official committee objections in the sample served as a similar opportunity for the official committee to negotiate the plan of reorganization through litigation. The lack of substance in some of these objections suggests that the objection itself is better understood as a chance to express a partisan view about how the Chapter 11 case should proceed. For example, in the bankruptcy case of Trico Marine Servs., Inc., the official committee informed the court that it objected because the committee was at loggerheads with management over how the case would proceed.[122] In the bankruptcy of NEFF Corp., the official committee complained that the Management Incentive Plan incentivized management to approve a plan favored by senior lenders and not “explore alternative plan strategies.”[123] Similarly, in the Hayes Lemmerz bankruptcy, the creditor’s committee complained that bonuses should not be paid for merely confirming a plan quickly for the benefit of the Debtors secured lenders who . . . were involved in the design and approval of the [bonus plan.][124]

b.  The Observed Role of the Department of Justice’s U.S. Trustee Program

Unlike creditors, the Department of Justice’s U.S. Trustee Program only has incentives to enforce bankruptcy policy. The trouble with the U.S. Trustee’s frequent interventions, as described further below, is that the body largely lacks the expertise needed to effectively police executive compensation.

Sure enough, as Table 5 shows, the U.S. Trustee became far more litigious after the reform, objecting to almost half of filed bonus plans, a 300% increase from the pre-reform sample.[125] The U.S. Trustee objection in the Lear Corporation bankruptcy is fairly representative of U.S. Trustee objections in the sample.[126] The Trustee first asserted that the proposed incentive plan is actually a disguised retention plan on the grounds that the milestones are too easy to achieve.[127] To support this claim, the U.S. Trustee pointed out that the major bankruptcy-related milestones have to do with filing a plan of reorganization, which, the U.S. Trustee noted, has already been mostly negotiated by the time the firm filed for bankruptcy.[128] Accordingly, this is not the type of “challenging result ” that “warrant[s] a bonus.”[129] The U.S. Trustee also noted that the responsibility of preparing a plan of reorganization mostly falls on the debtors’ lawyersnot the managersmeaning managers do not deserve a bonus for work done by their lawyers.[130] The Trustee then noted that the financial targets for part of the bonus payment were not disclosed, and therefore, may be too easy. Therefore, the Trustee demanded that management produce more evidence to satisfy its burden of proof.[131]

This sort of conclusory analysis characterizes many other U.S. Trustee objections in the sample. In one case, the U.S. Trustee condemned a bonus plan linked to asset sales by declaring that the plan simply require[s] the employees to do their jobs” and was not “tied to any specified sales activity or task.”[132] In another case, the U.S. Trustee objected that a bonus plan linked to an asset sale paid managers “based on the first dollar of proceeds” and was thus insufficiently incentivizing.[133] In another example, the U.S. Trustee pointed out that a different sale incentive plan would create rewards “determined in large part by complicated macroeconomic, market and industry-specific forces” and that management’s contribution to the effort would be minimal, calling the incentivizing nature of the plan into question.[134]

Another noteworthy change in the U.S. Trustee’s litigation activity after the 2005 reform is that the written objections became visibly more alike, with similar allegations and complaints about the bonus plans. I can quantify this using a cosinesimilarity analysis. At a high level, a cosinesimilarity analysis measures the textual similarity between two documentsit can be used to detect whether, for example, documents are based on a single template.[135] To quantify the similarity between the written objections before and after the 2005 reform, I calculated the cosine similarity score of every filed objection with every other written objection and took a mean for each case. I then took the mean for the U.S. Trustee for all objections filed in each period of the case study sample. Prior to the 2005 amendment, the mean cosine similarity score for each objection in the dataset filed by the U.S. Trustee was 0.68. After the change, the mean cosine similarity score was 0.87, a roughly 28% increase. If nothing else, this analysis suggests that the written objections became much more generic and much less individualized after the change, which also required the various U.S. Trustee’s offices to file many more objections than they had in the past.

One possibility is that the U.S. Trustee’s vigorous, yet-generic, litigation after the reform reflects a policy of objecting to bonus plans under political pressure from Congress, and there is some public evidence of that pressure. On February 7, 2012, Senator Charles Grassley, the ranking member of the United States Senate Judiciary Committee, wrote the U.S. Trustee to ask for information on how that office’s role in policing bankruptcy bonus plans was going after the 2005 reforms.[136] The Trustee responded that

[t]he United States Trustee Program (USTP) of the Justice Department vigorously seeks to enforce the [2005 amendments restricting bankruptcy bonus plans.] . . . Although all parties in interest in a chapter 11 case have standing to object to [bankruptcy bonus plans], the USTP often is the only party in a case to do so. . . . [A]necdotal evidence suggests that the USTP’s section 503(c) litigation success rate before the bankruptcy courts is lower than its success rate for any other litigation on which the USTP maintains data.[137]

IV.  The Case for RETHINKING the 2005 Reform

This Article’s account of the 2005 reform suggests that various institutional limitations and incentive problems have undermined the ability of the bankruptcy system to achieve the policy goals that prompted the reform. The main challenge in designing a further legal change that solves the issues previously identified is that many of the problems are structural. Bankruptcy judges are not suddenly going to become experts in executive compensation, and the incentives of creditors will continue to lead them to focus on larger bankruptcy issues, rather than the relatively small amounts of money at stake in discussing executive compensation. The Department of Justice’s U.S. Trustee Program will continue to litigate aggressively, but the underlying problems of informational asymmetry and an expertise deficit will limit their ability to help the bankruptcy judge’s deliberation.

Moreover, this Article suggests that the reform may very well have had significant negative consequences for bankruptcy practice. By driving at least some executive compensation underground, the reform may have decreased, on average, the public’s view into the black box of executive compensation of Chapter 11 debtors. The reform may have increased bankruptcy costs and redistributed value from creditors to lawyers. The reform has put very real pressure on the bankruptcy judge and Department of Justice to conduct inquiries that they are poorly situated to perform, a difficult situation exacerbated by the continuing public interest in executive compensation of Chapter 11 debtors.

Of course, in a cost-benefit analysis, these flaws must be analyzed in light of the potential benefits of the 2005 reform, and the analysis above identified two potential benefits. First, it is possible that some firms that might have implemented opportunistic and unnecessary bonus plans are choosing not to do so in light of the more challenging legal path to obtaining approval of such plans. Second, it is possible that the reform may have improved public confidence in our bankruptcy system. After all, court consideration of executive bonus plans continues to invite public and press scrutiny.[138] To the extent the reform pushed boards of directors to engage in regulatory evasion to avoid the public spectacle of a hearing on executive compensation, the reform may have helped the bankruptcy courts avoid adverse headlines. While it is possible that the reform provided some benefit by forcing the development of compensation contracts that lead managers to perform better, the evidence supporting this view is difficult to assess and nothing in this study suggests that this is the case on average. However, this Article cannot dismiss the possibility that the structure of executive compensation was indeed improved by the 2005 reform. 

In light of the evidence presented in this Article, Congress and bankruptcy judges should re-think the 2005 reform. Two changes seem particularly worthwhile. First, Congress should consider providing the Department of Justice (“DOJ”) with funding to hire their own executive compensation experts who can assist with policing executive compensation. Bonuses for senior managers are an important part of modern corporate governance, and reflexive objections without detailed analysis to all proposed bonus plans are unlikely to improve the administration of bankruptcy law. The current situation would be improved if the DOJ had access to greater expertise, whether through new employees or money to hire consultants. 

Second, Congress (or bankruptcy judges) should consider creating  new post-bankruptcy reporting requirements to force post-bankruptcy Chapter 11 debtors to report their overall level of senior management compensation for a period of two years after bankruptcy. This will not solve all of the problems described above, but it would curtail the ability of managers to extract promises from creditors in bankruptcy that lead to excess compensation once the firm leaves bankruptcy court. Very few Chapter 11 debtors emerge from bankruptcy as public companies these days, which creates a regulatory blind spot that might be aided through additional disclosure that discourages the worst abuses, such as the example of Citadel Broadcasting.

Conclusion

This Article’s account of the 2005 reform is one of the most detailed analyses of an executive compensation regulation in the scholarly literature to date. As the results above show, the reform clearly appears to have reduced the usage of bankruptcy bonus plans and forced firms to style their bonus plans as “incentive plans.” However, the incentive plans that are approved create similarly sized bonuses to the retention plans approved before the reform, which suggests that the risk associated with the probability of bonus payment might not have been materially increased. This may be why incentive bonus plans after the reform appear to result in pay-outs just as often as the pre-reform retention plans did. I also do not find evidence that the reform altered the overall level of compensation of the CEOs of Chapter 11 debtors. At the same time, the evidence suggests that the reform may have made the process of formulating a bonus plan more expensive than it had been prior to the enactment of a more demanding legal standard.

While the new statutory scheme does appear to have succeeded in giving new bargaining power to creditors, they do not, at the least, appear to use this bargaining power to inform the judge of substantive problems with the underlying bonus plan. They appear, instead, to use their right to object mostly to pursue their partisan bankruptcy interests of influencing the overall plan of reorganization. This conclusion is qualified because I do not observe the work they might do outside of court negotiating the terms of the bonus plan––work which is clearly ongoing. But it is hard to say based on the evidence that creditors are using their new governance power to make executives more accountable, implement true pay-for-performance, or reduce the overall level of compensation, as Congress intended. Indeed, more than ten years after its implementation, the putative benefits of the reform are hard to identify.

 

Appendix: Methodology FOR Analyzing Bankruptcy Costs

A team of research assistants, acting under my supervision, reviewed all of the legal bills filed by the debtor’s attorneys for every Chapter 11 bankruptcy in the case study sample. For each case, the research assistants began with the first fee request and reviewed all of the bills until the time period including the day that the first bankruptcy bonus plan (in the pre-reform period, usually key employee retention plans, and in the post-reform era, key employee incentive plans (KEIP)) was approved by the court. The review team stopped reviewing time entries after the day the KEIP was approved.

A representative example from the post-reform 2009 bankruptcy case of Foamex International, filed by the debtor’s counsel Akin Gump, includes the following entries:

  1. 03/26/09 SLN 0018 Review asset purchase agreement for Tax issues. 0.6
  2. 03/01/09 AQ 0019 Emails re KEIP. 0.2
  3. 03/01/09 PMA 0019 Review and respond to email re KEIP motion (.1). 0.1
  4. 03/02/09 ISD 0019 O/C AQ re: KEIP. 0.7
  5. 03/03/09 RJR 0019 Telephone conference w/1. Rosenblatt re Asset Purchase Agreement and relevant labor issues. 0.3[139]

Time entries #1 and #5 have nothing to do with the key employee incentive plan (or at least were not written down by the attorney to reflect that they do), so those time entries were discarded by the research assistant. Time entries #3, #4, and #5 reflect work on the incentive plan. The research assistant recorded all of the time each attorney spent on the KEIP, multiplied those numbers by the court approved attorney’s billing rate, and tabulated the amount the debtor’s attorneys charged for work on the bankruptcy bonus plan. The research assistant also obtained the debtor’s final fee applications to record the total amount billed for the bankruptcy case to understand what percentage of the overall bankruptcy costs (at least the portion owed to the debtor’s main attorney) was devoted to bankruptcy bonus plan matters, before and after the reform.

The total review constituted more than 103,781 pages of attorney time entries and cover notes from 792 fee applications. 

Appendix Table 1 displays ordinary least squared regression with robust standard errors in parenthesis. Industry Fixed Effects are Fama-French 12. Debtor Counsel Bonus Plan Fees” are the logged total fees in constant 2010 dollars associated with negotiating, writing, and obtaining the approval of a bonus plan.Debtor Counsel Bonus Plan Hours” are the logged total hours in constant 2010 dollars associated with negotiating, writing, and obtaining the approval of a bonus plan. “Debtor Counsel Bonus Plan Fees as a Percentage of Total Case Fees” are the percentage of the debtor’s overall bill that are associated with the bonus plan. Appendix Table 2 summarizes the observed changes in bonus plans from the version first filed with the court to the version approved by the judge. For example, financial targets are raised in 22% of the post-2005 reform bonus plans between the original filing on the court docket and the judge’s approval order. Bankruptcy milestones are event dates in the bankruptcy process, such as the day a plan of reorganization is approved. In 10.5% of cases, the deadlines tied to those goals were lengthened, such as giving management 180 days to obtain approval of an order selling substantially all of the firm’s assets instead of 120 days.

 

 

 

 


[*] *.. Visiting Associate Professor of Law, Boston University School of Law; Associate Professor of Law, University of California, Hastings College of the Law. I appreciate helpful comments from Afra Afsharipour, Jordan Barry, Abe Cable, John Crawford, Ben Depoorter, Scott Dodson, Michael Klausner, Emily Murphy, Shu-Yei Oei, Elizabeth Pollman, Diane Ring, Natalya Schnitser, Fred Tung, David Walker, and faculty workshops at the University of California, Davis, Boston College, and Boston University.

 [1]. See Gretchen Morgenson, MARKET WATCH; A Year’s Debacles, From Comic to Epic, N.Y. Times (Dec. 30, 2003), https://www.nytimes.com/2003/12/28/business/market-watch-a-year-s-debacles
-from-comic-to-epic.html (condemning American Airlines for negotiating wage concessions from its unionized workers while rewarding top executives with retention bonuses and setting aside $40 million to protect the pensions of executives); see also David Olive, Many CEOs Richly Rewarded for Failure; They Didn’t Suffer as Stocks Tanked in New Economy, Toronto Star, Aug. 25, 2002, at A10.

 [2]. These bonus plans were very controversial because the payment of bonuses in bankruptcy is a public event, leading to press coverage. See Bloomberg News, Bankruptcy Court Approves FAO Executive Pay Plan, N.Y. Times (Feb. 15, 2003), https://www.nytimes.com/2003/02/15/business
/company-news-bankruptcy-court-approves-fao-executive-pay-plan.html (noting an approved FAO Inc. executive-retention plan paying $1.1 million in bonuses); see also Seth Schiesel, Revised Contract for WorldCom’s New Chief Executive Wins Approval from 2 Judges, N.Y. Times (Dec. 17, 2002), https://www.nytimes.com/2002/12/17/business/revised-contract-for-worldcom-s-new-chief-executive-wins-approval-from-2-judges.html (detailing the executive compensation plan for the CEO of WorldCom, which was approved during the company’s bankruptcy); Rhonda L. Rundle, FPA’s CEO Received Salary Increase Five Days Before Chapter 11 Filing, Wall St. J. (Aug. 3, 1998), https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB902097584655373000. Senator Charles Grassley, Republican of Iowa, summarized the populist argument against bankruptcy bonuses in a 2012 letter demanding that the Department of Justice police them more vigorously: “Corporate directors, executives and managers who were at the helm of a company as it spiraled into bankruptcy should not receive bonuses of any kind, let alone excessive bonuses, during a reorganization or liquidation.” Mike Spector & Tom McGinty, U.S. Is Asked to Review Bankruptcy Bonuses, Wall St. J. (Feb. 13, 2012), https://www.wsj.com
/articles/SB10001424052970204642604577218033661586936.

 [3]. See, e.g., Kristine Henry, Beth Bonus Called Good Way to Keep Salaried Steel Talent, Balt. Sun (Jan. 6, 2002), https://www.baltimoresun.com/news/bs-xpm-2002-01-06-0201050169-story.html (detailing executive retention plans paid out in high-profile Chapter 11 bankruptcy cases); Nelson D. Schwartz, Greed-Mart Attention, Kmart Investors. The Company May Be Bankrupt, but Its Top Brass Have Been Raking It In, Fortune (Oct. 14, 2002), http://archive.fortune.com/magazines
/fortune/fortune_archive/2002/10/14/330017/index.htm. Many bankruptcy lawyers at the time were also upset by this behavior, fearing that managers were abusing Chapter 11 to extract excessive compensation at the expense of public confidence in the bankruptcy system. See generally Robert J. Keach, The Case Against KERPS, 041003 Am. Bankr. Inst. 9 (2003) (discussing issues with key employee retention plans (“KERPS”) at the American Bankruptcy Institute’s 2003 Annual Spring Meeting).

       [4].       See In re U.S. Airways, Inc., 329 B.R. 793, 797 (Bankr. E.D. Va. 2005) (“Congressional concern over KERP excesses is clearly reflected in changes to the Bankruptcy Code that will become effective for cases filed after October 17, 2005.”); see also Dorothy Hubbard Cornwell, To Catch a KERP: Devising a More Effective Regulation than §503(c), 25 Emory Bankr. Dev. J. 485, 486–87 (2009) (discussing the amendments to the Bankruptcy Code); Rebecca Revich, The KERP Revolution, 81 Am. Bankr. L.J. 87, 88–92 (2007) (explaining how Congress restricted the ability of Chapter 11 debtors to “retain management employees under programs generally referred to as Key Employee Retention Plans (KERPs)”). In support of the ban, Senator Edward Kennedy delivered a memorable floor statement condemning “glaring abuses of the bankruptcy system by the executives of giant companies.” In re Dana Corp., 358 B.R. 567, 575 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2006) (noting statement of Senator Kennedy in support of the amendments and discussing the legislative history of the amendments to section 503 of the Bankruptcy Code). It is worth noting that beyond the arguments over the propriety of paying bankruptcy bonuses, some observers questioned their efficacy, noting, for example, that after Kmart implemented a KERP plan, nineteen of the twenty-five covered executives left within six months and that Enron’s KERP failed to staunch the outflow of talented employees. Keach, supra note 3.

 [5]. The executive compensation restrictions were a very minor piece of a much larger reform, as part of a bill called the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005 (“BAPCPA”), Pub. L. No. 109-8, 119 Stat. 23 (2005) (codified as amended in scattered titles of the U.S. Code). While this paper is the first to study the executive compensation restrictions in this degree of detail, many other papers study other aspects of this reform. See generally, e.g., Kenneth Ayotte, Leases and Executory Contracts in Chapter 11, 12 J. Empirical Legal Stud. 637 (2015); Pamela Foohey et al., Life in the Sweatbox, 94 Notre Dame L. Rev. 219 (2018); Robert M. Lawless et al., Did Bankruptcy Reform Fail? An Empirical Study of Consumer Debtors, 82 Am. Bankr. L.J. 349 (2008); Michael Simkovic, The Effect of BAPCPA on Credit Card Industry Profits and Prices, 83 Am. Bankr. L.J. 1 (2009).

 [6]. For example, a Chapter 11 bonus plan might require management to increase earnings or move through Chapter 11 quickly. See infra notes 46 and 57 and accompanying text.

 [7]. Bankruptcy lawyers largely share this skeptical view of the efficacy of the reform. See, e.g., Eric Morath, Bankruptcy Beat: ABI Poll Casts Doubt on Bonus Reforms, Wall St. J. (Oct. 21, 2009), https://blogs.wsj.com/bankruptcy/2009/10/21/abi-poll-casts-doubt-on-bonus-reforms (reporting survey results that a majority of respondents agree that the reform was not effective in limiting executive compensation). These poll results are consistent with other anecdotal evidence in the popular media. See, e.g., Nathan Koppel & Paul Davies, Bankruptcy-Law Overhaul Has Wiggle Room; Limits Set on Key Executives’ Pay, but Door Is Wide Open on Bonuses Linked to Achieving Certain Goals, Wall St. J., https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB114342447370208718 (last updated Mar. 27, 2006) (“[B]ankruptcy lawyers say companies have managed to sidestep some of the law’s provisions.”). Lee R. Bogdanoff, a founding partner of the law firm Klee, Tuchin, Bogdanoff & Stern LLP in Los Angeles, was quoted by Bloomberg News as saying that “[t]he amendment to the code changed the means, but not the value of these plans . . . It’s just changed the way you get there, not necessarily how much management gets at the end.” Steven Church, Buffets Rewards Managers Who Put Chain in Bankruptcy, Bloomberg News (Apr. 5, 2012), http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2012-04-05/buffets-rewards-managers-who-put-chain-in-bankruptcy. A former Department of Justice official charged with supervising the bankruptcy system argues, “Congress took a stab at righting the problem and companies quickly found a way to circumvent their intent.” Mike Spector & Tom McGinty, The CEO Bankruptcy Bonus, Wall St. J. (Jan. 27, 2012), https://www.wsj.com/articles
/SB10001424053111903703604576584480750545602. A contemporaneous working paper provides suggestive evidence that at least some firms contracted around the reform. See Vedran Capkun & Evren Ors, When the Congress Says “PIP Your KERP”: Performance Incentive Plans, Key Employee Retention Plans, and Chapter 11 Bankruptcy Resolution (Feb. 15, 2009) (unpublished manuscript), https://people.hec.edu/ors/wp-content/uploads/sites/24/2018/02/PIP_your_KERP_20140104.pdf (“By trying to suppress KERPs, which were deemed to be ‘self-dealing’ plans proposed by unscrupulous managers, BAPCPA appears to have led to ‘structural arbitrage.’”).

 [8]. See infra Section III.B.1.c.

 [9]. See infra Section III.B.2.b. The fact that bonuses created by the post-2005 incentive bonus plans are similarly sized to the pre-reform retention plans casts doubt on the notion that these bonuses came with the additional risk that would come from truly challenging performance goals.  Michael C. Jensen & Kevin J. Murphy, CEO IncentivesIt’s Not How Much You Pay, but How, Harv. Bus. Rev., May–June 1990, at 138 (outlining the difficulty of adequately linking executive pay to compensation while simultaneously not appearing to overpay executives).

 [10]. See Sreedhar T. Bharath et al., The Changing Nature of Chapter 11 at 12–14 (Fisher Coll. of Bus., Paper No. 2008-03-003, 2010), http://ssrn.com/abstract=1102366.

 [11]. See, e.g., Motion of Debtor and Debtor in Possession Pursuant to 11 U.S.C. §§ 105, 507(a)(3), 507(a)(4) and the “Doctrine of Necessity” for an Order Authorizing It to Pay: (A) Prepetition Emp. Wages, Salaries and Related Items; (B) Prepetition Emp. Bus. Expenses; (C) Prepetition Contributions to and Benefits Under Emp. Benefit Plans; (D) Prepetition Emp. Payroll Deductions and Withholdings; and (E) All Costs and Expenses Incident to the Foregoing Payments and Contributions Filed by Debtor-in-Possession Bush Indus., Inc. at 13, In re Bush Indus., 315 B.R. 292 (Bankr. W.D.N.Y. 2004) (No. 04-12295).

 [12]. In re Allied Holdings, Inc., 337 B.R. 716, 721 (Bankr. N.D. Ga. 2005) (“KERP programs such as the one the Debtors seek approval to implement have become customary uses of estate funds in large business reorganizations.”); see also David A. Skeel, Jr., Creditors’ Ball: The “New” New Corporate Governance in Chapter 11, 152 U. Pa. L. Rev. 917, 926–28 (2003) (discussing innovations in executive compensation and the evolution of bankruptcy bonuses); Mechele A. Dickerson, Approving Employee Retention and Severance Programs: Judicial Discretion Run Amuck, 11 Am. Bankr. Inst. L. Rev. 93, 96–97 (2003) (discussing the prevalence of retention bonuses offered in Chapter 11 cases); James H. M. Sprayregen et al., First Things FirstA Primer on How to Obtain Appropriate “First Day” Relief in Chapter 11 Cases, 11 J. Bankr. L. & Prac. 275, 299 (2002) (suggesting Chapter 11 debtors consider bonus plans as part of bankruptcy planning). A contemporaneous press account suggests that bonuses became a common feature because many of the formerly high-flying tech firms had high bankruptcy costs associated with a prolonged stay in Chapter 11 that would leave little value for creditors in the event creditors were forced to hire new managers. In effect, the inability of Chapter 11 to preserve the going concern value of telecom firms provided managers with the power to extract holdout value in exchange for remaining at their desks. One investment banker was quoted as saying that sophisticated activist bondholders budgeted for bankruptcy bonuses when they made their investments in the firm’s debt. Ann Davis, Want Some Extra Cash? File for Chapter 11, Wall St. J., Oct. 31, 2001, at C1 (discussing the rise in popularity of Chapter 11 bonuses and the changing views among creditors). By keeping them at their desks with retention payments, creditors retain value in the firm that would otherwise be lost if they were to quit. Yair Listkoin criticizes retention payments for not being more closely related to positive bankruptcy outcomes. Yair Listokin, Paying for Performance in Bankruptcy: Why CEOs Should Be Compensated with Debt, 155 U. Pa. L. Rev. 777, 790 (2007) (summarizing arguments against “pay to stay” compensation). Robert Rasmussen makes an argument that Congress erred by eliminating retention bonuses because they usefully provided creditors—the new owners—with a real option regarding the debtor’s workers. That is to say, by retaining employees long enough to evaluate them, retention bonuses serve the useful purpose of allowing creditors or new managers to decide who to keep. See Robert K. Rasmussen, On the Scope of Managerial Discretion in Chapter 11, 156 U. Pa. L. Rev. PENNumbra 77, 80–85 (2007).

 [13]. Sandra E. Mayerson & Chirstalette Hoey, Employee Issues from Pre-Petition Severance to Post-Petition Defaulted Pension Plans; and Standards for Permitting Senior Management Bonuses, 092002 Am. Bankr. Inst. 409 (2002).

 [14]. See, e.g., In re Aerovox, Inc., 269 B.R. 74, 76 (Bankr. D. Mass. 2001).

The Debtor summarized the incentives it designed as follows: 1) to keep the eligible employees, including the Key Employees, in the Debtors employ; 2) to compensate the eligible employees, including the Key Employees, for assuming “additional administrative and operational burdens imposed on the Debtor by its Chapter 11 case;” and 3) to allow the eligible employees, including the Key Employees, to use “their best efforts to ensure the maximization of estate assets for the benefits of creditors.”

Id. (internal citations omitted).

 [15]. Id. at 79.

Moreover, in the Board’s view, replacing the Key Employees would cause the Debtor to incur significant costs. Mr. Horsley testified that the process of replacing any one of the Key Employees could cost up to one years’ salary in order to cover the cost of a headhunter and other recruitment expenses. He added that, even if the Debtor were to find qualified replacements, it would not be able to quickly get these new employees “up to speed.” This cost-benefit analysis weighed heavily into the Board’s ultimate decision.

Id.

 [16]. See id.

 [17]. In the face of intense criticism, firms began to change their compensation practices to try to align pay with performance. See, e.g., Jensen & Murphy, supra note 9.

 [18]. See Brian J. Hall & Jeffrey B. Liebman, Are CEOs Really Paid Like Bureaucrats?, 113 Q.J. Econ. 653, 661–63 (1998) (finding that most of the pay increase for chief executive officers between 1980 and 1994 was in the form of stock options, which increased the percentage of a firm’s total compensation package weighted towards performance compensation).

 [19]. See Kevin J. Murphy, Executive Compensation, in 3B Handbook of Labor Economics 2485, 2491 (Orley Ashenfeller & David Card eds., 1999) (“[M]ost executive pay packages contain four basic components: a base salary, an annual bonus tied to accounting performance, stock options, and longterm incentive plans (including restricted stock plans and multi-year accounting-based performance plans).”). Stock compensation includes both outright grants of stock as well as restricted stock and stock options.

 [20]. The compensation consulting firm Equilar reported that in 2013, 63.8% of S&P 1500 companies used some form of performance-based equity compensation, 82.8% used short-term cash incentives, 15% had a discretionary cash bonus, and 8.3% had a long-term incentive plan tied to multiyear performance goals. Equilar, CEO Pay Strategies Report 4–5 (2014), https://www2.deloitte.com/content/dam/Deloitte/us/Documents/regulatory/us-aers-ceo-pay-strategies-report-2014-equilar-july-2014-020915.pdf. While Equilar does not aggregate these numbers, it is fair to assume that virtually all large firms use bonus compensation. The pre-bankruptcy use of stock compensation can be in and of itself sufficient to require a new compensation policy, as Chapter 11 usually ends with pre-bankruptcy shareholders receiving no recovery. See generally Notice of Filing of Amended Disclosure Statement for Debtors’ Amended Joint Plan of Reorganization Pursuant to Chapter 11 of the Bankr. Code, In re Hawker Beechcraft, Inc., 486 B.R. 264 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2013) (No. 12-11873) [hereinafter Hawker Beechcraft Disclosure].

 [21]. See Hall & Liebman, supra note 18. Firms have two alternatives to adjusting compensation policy in bankruptcy, but they are unattractive, for different reasons. One option is to adjust management’s compensation pre-bankruptcy by giving them large base salaries, which effectively reweights their compensation away from bonus and towards base. Doing so creates important risks for a firm, as news of bonus payments can disrupt negotiations with creditors and create liability for the executive who might find the payment clawed back as a fraudulent conveyance. Alternatively, the firm can avoid adjusting compensation until after bankruptcy, which creates the risk that managers might leave the firm rather than wait for an uncertain payment. See James Sprayregen et al., Recent Lessons on Management Compensation at Various Stages of the Chapter 11 Process, Financier Worldwide (Mar. 2013), https://www.financierworldwide.com/recent-lessons-on-management-compensation-at-various-stages-of-the-chapter-11-process/#.XEZb6S3Myu4.

 [22]. See, e.g., Mitchell A. Seider et al., Two Recent Decisions Highlight Pitfalls in Creating and Implementing Key Employee Incentive Plans for Executives in Bankruptcy Cases, Latham & Watkins: Client Alert (Sept. 24, 2012), https://www.lw.com/thoughtLeadership/employee-incentive
-plans-executives-bankruptcy (“[I]t may be difficult to replicate . . . employees’ pre-petition compensation during the Chapter 11 case because a significant part of their compensation may have been in the form of stock options (which are likely worthless in light of the bankruptcy proceedings) and performance bonuses based on metrics that are no longer achievable. Furthermore, these employees may seriously consider other employment opportunities that do not involve the risks inherent in working for a company in Chapter 11.”); Notice of (1) Filing of the Solicitation Version of the Amended Disclosure Statement for the Debtors’ Solicitation Version of the Amended Joint Plan of Reorganization Pursuant to Chapter 11 of the Bankruptcy Code and (2) Deadline for Parties to Object Thereto, In re Hawker Beechcraft, Inc., 486 B.R. 264 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2013) (No. 12-11873) (“[C]urrent compensation levels for each of the KERP Participants are below market levels largely because no MIP or Equity Investment Plan bonuses have been paid in recent years and also due to a decrease in earned commissions. The Debtors believe the KERP will aid the Debtors’ retention of the KERP Participants and will incentivize them to expend the additional efforts and time necessary to maximize the value of the Debtors’ assets.”).

 [23]. See, e.g., Nancy Rivera Brooks, Enron Execs Were Paid to Remain, L.A. Times (Dec. 7, 2001), http://articles.latimes.com/2001/dec/07/business/fi-12293.

 [24]. See, e.g., Henry, supra note 3 (detailing executive retention plans paid out in high-profile Chapter 11 bankruptcy cases).

 [25]. At the 2003 Annual Spring Conference of the American Bankruptcy Institute, a lawyer arguing against allowing KERPs worried very much that the failure to curb bankruptcy bonus abuse (in the form of the Key Employee Retention Plans that had become a routine part of bankruptcy practice) would result in congressional intervention. See Critical Vendor Motions, Retention Bonuses Headed for Endangered List, 39 Bankr. Ct. Decisions: Wkly. News & Comment 1 (Aug. 13, 2002); see also Keach, supra note 3.

 [26]. See M. Todd Henderson, Paying CEOs in Bankruptcy: Executive Compensation When Agency Costs Are Low, 101 Nw. U. L. Rev. 1543, 1543–44, 1570 (2007) (“According to [academic accounts of bankruptcy], the Bankruptcy Code’s preference for management operation of the debtor allows managers to extract rents in the form of higher salaries, big option grants, and lavish retention and emergence bonuses.”); Lynn M. LoPucki & William C. Whitford, Corporate Governance in the Bankruptcy Reorganization of Large, Publicly Held Companies, 141 U. Pa. L. Rev. 669, 740 (1993) (“In the course of our study, we became suspicious that some CEOs were using leverage generated from the power vested in the debtor-in-possession by the Bankruptcy Code to negotiate increases in their personal compensation.”); Lucien Ayre Bebchuk & Howard F. Chang, Bargaining and the Division of Value in Corporate Reorganization, 8 J.L. Econ. & Org. 253, 267 n.14 (1992) (“In reality, the incumbent management controls the agenda during this initial period [of Chapter 11 Bankruptcy].”).

 [27]. Alan Schwartz, A Contract Theory Approach to Business Bankruptcy, 107 Yale L.J. 1807, 1836 (1998) (noting Chapter 11 is preferable to Chapter 7 for current management, in terms of ability to manipulate the process for personal gain); see also Henderson, supra note 26, at 1574 (noting a potential factor favoring management in Chapter 11 is “the possibility that creditors will tolerate inefficient or unfair compensation to curry favor with CEOs, since the debtor has the exclusive right to propose a reorganization plan”); LoPucki & Whitford, supra note 26, at 692 (“[M]anagement of the debtor corporation routinely remains in office after [the bankruptcy] filing and has considerable power over both the business plan and the reorganization plan.”).

 [28]. One student researcher interviewed legendary bankruptcy attorney Harvey Miller in 2005 and reported:

Eventually, according to Miller, the negotiations come to point where the controlling distressed investors tell the CEO, “if you want to be CEO of the company, don’t fight

usbecause if you fight and we win, you’re dead.” According to Miller, some management teams will eventually give in, often after the distressed investors have agreed to provide them with post-emergence employment contracts.

Paul M. Goldschmid, Note, More Phoenix Than Vulture: The Case for Distressed Investor Presence in the Bankruptcy Reorganization Process, 2005 Colum. Bus. L. Rev. 191, 266–67 (2005).

 [29].   See Henderson, supra note 26, at 1575–76 (2007) (“Thus, given the firm’s poor performance, whether or not it can be deemed to be the CEO’s fault, the firm should be able to pay the CEO less, but the costs of the next best alternative are so much higher that the CEO is actually in a stronger negotiating position.”).

 [30]. See LoPucki & Whitford, supra note 26, at 742 (“[I]n some reorganization cases management derives considerable power from their incumbency.”).

 [31]. See id. at 694–720 (describing the checks on management).

 [32]. In re Salant Corp., 176 B.R. 131, 132 (S.D.N.Y. 1994) (“The Bankruptcy Court approved the bonus to [the CEO] at the confirmation hearing . . . .”); see also In re Velo Holdings Inc., 472 B.R. 201, 204 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2012) (approving KERP during bankruptcy case).

 [33]. See, e.g., In re W. Pac. Airlines, Inc., 219 B.R. 575, 578 (D. Colo. 1998) (“[A] creditors committee serves something of a ‘watchdog’ function in bankruptcy and enjoys unique rights and responsibilities under the Code.”).

 [34]. Wei Jiang et al., Hedge Funds and Chapter 11, 67 J. Fin. 513, 527 n.10 (2012).

 [35]. See generally Jared A. Ellias, Do Activist Investors Constrain Managerial Moral Hazard in Chapter 11?: Evidence from Junior Activist Investing, 8 J. Legal Analysis 493 (2016) (finding activist investors actually reduce self-dealing and promote the goals of bankruptcy); Michelle M. Harner & Jamie Marincic, Committee Capture? An Empirical Analysis of the Role of Creditors’ Committees in Business Reorganizations, 64 Vand. L. Rev. 749 (2011) (providing data on the impact of creditors on bankruptcy proceedings).

 [36]. See Ellias, supra note 35, at 495 (“In Chapter 11, managers must obtain judicial approval for all major business decisions . . . [creditors] may inform the judge that management is abusing Chapter 11 and file motions seeking judicial relief.”).

 [37]. See Charles Jordan Tabb, The History of the Bankruptcy Laws in the United States, 3 Am. Bankr. Inst. L. Rev. 5, 35 (1995). (“In 1986 the United States Trustee system was established nationwide . . . . An attempt was made to relieve bankruptcy judges of administrative duties, thereby permitting them to focus more exclusively on their judicial role.”).

 [38]. See id.

 [39]. About the Program: The United States Trustee Program, U.S. Dep’t Just., https://www.justice.gov/ust/about-program (last updated Mar. 6, 2019).

       [40].     Id.

 [41]. See Objection of the U.S. Trustee to Debtors’ Motion Pursuant to Section 363(b) of the Bankr. Code for Authorization to Implement a Key Emp. Incentive Plan at 9, In re BearingPoint, Inc., 453 B.R. 486 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2011) (No. 09-10691) [hereinafter BearingPoint Objection].

The Motion is not supported by any indication that the costs of the KEIP are reasonable under the circumstances. To the contrary, the currently-prevailing view here appears to be that such proceeds will be insufficient to generate a recovery for unsecured creditors. Also, there is no basis on which to conclude that the $7.0 million cost of the Debtors’ revised bonus plan is reasonable . . . .

Id.

 [42]. That’s not to say that judges did not sometimes reject bonus plans. Levitz Judge Rejects Bankruptcy Bonus, Limits Severance Package, 2 Andrews Bankr. Litig. Rep. 7 (2005) (discussing Judge Burton Lifland’s rejection of a proposed retention bonus in the Levitz Homes bankruptcy when the company had mostly outsourced operation of its business to consultants).

 [43]. See In re Montgomery Ward Holding Corp., 242 B.R. 147, 155 (D. Del. 1999) (noting the discretion the bankruptcy court has to defer to management’s business judgment in approving bankruptcy bonus plans). Bankruptcy courts approved executive bonuses upon a showing by the debtor that: (i) the debtor used proper business judgment in creating the plan, and (ii) the plan is “fair and reasonable.” Emily Watson Harring, Walking and Talking like a KERP: Implications of BAPCPA Section 503(c) for Effective Leadership at Troubled Companies, 2008 U. Ill. L. Rev. 1285, 1293 (2008); see also George W. Kuney, Hijacking Chapter 11, 21 Emory Bankr. Dev. J. 19, 78–80 (2004) (summarizing the standard in pre-BAPCA cases). Kuney notes that this standard was either considered overly permissive or unnecessarily restrictive, depending on the particular biases of the critic. Id. at 80; accord Cornwell, supra note 4, at 493–94 (summarizing the pre-BAPCA standard).

 [44]. In re Brooklyn Hosp. Ctr., 341 B.R. 405, 409 (Bankr. E.D.N.Y. 2006); see also In re Aerovox, Inc., 269 B.R. 74, 79 (Bankr. D. Mass. 2001) (discussing the importance of the employees to the turnaround effort).

 [45]. See Brooklyn Hosp. Ctr., 341 B.R. at 412 (discussing the deliberations of the Board); see also In re Georgetown Steel Co., 306 B.R. 549, 554 (Bankr. D.S.C. 2004) (“The CEO described the deliberations of the Board of Directors with respect to the Retention Motion as well as the processes utilized to arrive at the final amount of the Retention Plan.”); Aerovox, 269 B.R. at 81–82 (“[T]he Board utilized sound business judgment in evaluating the need for and financial implications of the KERP. . . . [T]he Board met five times before approving the original KERP.”); Dickerson, supra note 12, at 97–103.

 [46]. See Paul R. Hage, Key Employee Retention Plans under BAPCPA? Is There Anything Left?, 17 J. Bankr. L. & Prac. 1, 15 (2008) (“[S]ection 503(c) prohibits payments to an insider ‘for the purpose of inducing such person to remain with the debtor’s business.’”). The BAPCPA mostly affected consumer bankruptcy, and the reform studied in this Article was one of the handful of provisions that altered business bankruptcy in a significant way.

 [47]. In re Global Home Prods., L.L.C., 369 B.R. 778, 783–84 (Bankr. D. Del. 2007) (quoting Karen Lee Turner & Ronald S. Gellert, Dana Hits a Roadblock: Why Post-BAPCPA Laws May Impose Stricter KERP Standards, 3 Bankr. Litig. Rep. 2, 2 (2006)); see also Edward E. Neiger, Bankruptcy Courts Continue to Approve Performance-Based Bonuses for Executives of Companies in Chapter 11, 3 Pratt’s J. Bankr. L. 356, 357 (2007).

 [48]. See 11 U.S.C. § 503 (2018); In re Dana Corp., 358 B.R. 567, 575–78 (summarizing the changes to the Bankruptcy Code); Skeel, supra note 12, at 928 (describing KEIPs). In sample cases, it is very clear that––in at least some instances­––the KEIP was designed more with a view to what the court would approve than what actually needed to provide incentive compensation to senior executives. For example, in the bankruptcy of Nortel, the debtor’s compensation consultant examined other recent KEIPs and provided its senior managers with a maximum number of how much money could be distributed in bonuses and how many people could be paid, and this was used to generate an incentive plan. See Declaration of John Dempsey in Support Debtors’ Motion for an Order Seeking Approval of Key Emp. Retention Plan and Key Exec. Incentive Plan, and Certain Other Related Relief at 5, In re Nortel Networks Inc., 426 B.R. 84 (Bankr. D. Del. Feb. 27, 2009) (No. 09-10138) [hereinafter Dempsey Declaration].

In determining the appropriate number of employees eligible, maximum program cost, and the size of awards to be granted, I reviewed Key Employee Incentive Plans that had been approved by bankruptcy courts in a number of recent chapter 11 cases. The companies for which these plans were approved reflect entities both inside and outside the technology sector as well as companies facing multi-jurisdictional issues, including SemGroup LLP, Quebecor World, Delphi Corporation, Dura Automotive, and Calpine Corporation.

Id. In Dempsey’s defense, Nortel was a large firm and the compared firms, albeit engaged in entirely different lines of business and headquartered in different cities, were also large firms. Nonetheless, the selection of compared firms is curious. In terms of the number of managers, he testified, “I advised Nortel management to select participants that would result in a population of employees totaling approximately 5% of the aggregate Nortel population, as this amount was well within the range of competitive market practice.” Id.

 [49]. See Skeel, supra note 12, at 928 (“[C]reditors have insisted in recent cases that the managers’ compensation be tied to the company’s progress under Chapter 11. The most straightforward strategy for rewarding managers who handle the case expeditiously is to base their compensation, at least in part, on the speed of the reorganization.”).

 [50]. See Hage, supra note 46, at 22–27 (discussing the early decisions); see also Revich, supra note 4, at 94.

 [51]. See In re Velo Holdings Inc., 472 B.R. 201, 211 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2012) (analyzing a proposed KEIP plan to insure the targets are “difficult to achieve”).

 [52]. See LoPucki & Whitford, supra note 26, at 694 (“Management also gains considerable power by being better informed than other interested parties.”).

 [53]. Of course, in some cases a 10% revenue increase can result from changed market conditions or political developments that improve the firm’s prospects with no increased effort from managers.

 [54]. In re Dana Corp., 351 B.R. 96, 102 n.3 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2006).

 [55]. In re Dana Corp, 358 B.R. 567, 576–77 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2006) (emphasis in original) (internal citations omitted).

 [56]. See Revich, supra note 4, at 116.

 [57]. See Bharath et al., supra note 10, at 24 (suggesting the use of KERPs contribute to more equitable Chapter 11 outcomes, as measured by the frequency of Absolute Priority Deviations).

 [58]. See, e.g., Victor Fleischer, Regulatory Arbitrage, 89 Tex. L. Rev. 227, 278–80 (2010).

 [59]. For evidence supporting this hypothesis surveyed, see generally infra Section III.B.1.

 [60]. See Margaret Howard, The Law of Unintended Consequences, 31 S. Ill. U. L.J. 451, 456 (2007); Allison K. Verderber Herriott, Toward an Understanding of the Dialectical Tensions Inherent in CEO and Key Employee Retention Plans During Bankruptcy, 98 Nw. U. L. Rev. 579, 615 (2004); Revich, supra note 4, at 112 (considering Judge Lifland’s decision in In re Dana Corp., which noted permissible incentive plans may have retentive effects).

 [61]. For evidence supporting this hypothesis surveyed, see infra Section III.B.2.

 [62]. Economic theory has long held that people respond to incentives. E.g., Gary S. Becker, Irrational Behavior and Economic Theory, 70 J. Pol. Econ. 1, 9 (1962).

 [63]. Karen Dillon, The Coming Battle over Executive Pay, Harv. Bus. Rev. (2009), https://hbr.org/2009/09/the-coming-battle-over-executive-pay.

 [64]. For evidence supporting this hypothesis surveyed, see infra Section III.B.3.

 [65]. See generally Data & Research, Bankr. Data, http://bankruptcydata.com/p/data-research (last visited Apr. 8, 2019). Next Generation Research’s Bankruptcy Data service is a commonly used data source for empirical bankruptcy studies. Accord, e.g., Kenneth M. Ayotte & Edward R. Morrison, Creditor Control and Conflict in Chapter 11, 1 J. Legal Analysis 511, 517 (2009).

 [66]. A portion of this larger sample was used previously in Jared A. Ellias, What Drives Bankruptcy Forum Shopping? Evidence from Market Data, 47 J. Legal Stud. 119, 124–26 (2018). I provide greater detail regarding construction of the larger sample. While this Article shares basic information on bankruptcy cases with that larger dataset, the data on executive compensation presented here were collected specifically for this project and are unique and new.

 [67]. “TRACE” is a complete record of all buying and selling of corporate bonds, with transaction-level data on all trades during the sample period. It is the standard source for bond data in empirical finance literature. “MarkIt” is a data provider that compiles trading in corporate loans. Bloomberg maintains records in trading of both listed and over-the-counter equity. I do not report results using TRACE, MarkIt, or Bloomberg data in this Article.

 [68]. Firms generally disclose executive compensation as part of their annual report or proxy statements for their annual meeting. See Fast Answers: Executive Compensation, U.S. Sec. & Exchange Comm’n, https://www.sec.gov/fast-answers/answers-execomphtm.html (last visited Apr. 8, 2019) (“The easiest place to look up information on executive pay is probably the annual proxy statement. Annual reports on Form 10-K and registration statements might simply refer you to the information in the annual proxy statement, rather than presenting the information directly.”).

 [69]. This means that the case study sample is drawn from a slightly broader universe than the larger sample, which is restricted to public firms with traded claims. I do not believe this introduces bias into the analysis, and it avoids any bias that could result from looking only at public firms. The results presented below are the same if I restrict the case study sample to the universe of firms with traded claims.

 [70]. In re Dana Corp, 358 B.R. 567, 576–77 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2006) (emphasis in original). (internal citations omitted); see also supra note 55 and accompanying text.

 [71]. One possible complaint about my methodology is that the 2009 and 2010 “post-reform” sample includes the bankruptcy cases that resulted from the financial crisis. The broad conclusions from the study come from the larger sample. The case study sample is used mostly to illustrate problems with the reform, provide institutional detail, and estimate the increase in costs, which should not be affected by the financial crisis and its aftermath.

 [72]. 11 U.S.C. § 327 (2018).

 [73]. See First Verified Monthly Application of Alston & Bird LLP as Counsel for the Debtors and Debtors-in-Possession for Allowance of Compensation and Reimbursement of Expenses Incurred for the Interim Period June 22, 2009 through July 31, 2009 at 2, In re Sea Launch Company, No. 09-12153 (Bankr. D. Del. Aug. 25, 2009); see also Fed. R. Bankr. P. 2016(a) (providing for the compensation of services provided to the debtor by professionals).

 [74]. Others have speculated that the new, post-reform statutory regime requires more attorney time and expense. See Jonathan C. Lipson, Where’s the Beef? A Few Words About Paying for Performance in Bankruptcy, 156 U. Pa. L. Rev. 64, 68 (2007).

 [75]. All of the nominal dollar amounts in the bills were adjusted to 2010 dollars using the Consumer Price Index.

 [76]. In Appendix Table 1, I use regression analysis to try to verify that the observed fee increase is not due to a difference in observable firm characteristics between the population of pre-reform Chapter 11 debtors and post-reform Chapter 11 debtors. The results suggest that, controlling for firm financial characteristics and industry, the 2005 bankruptcy reform is associated with a 118% increase in the debtor’s fees for time spent on bonus plans, a 102% increase in attorney’s hours devoted to the bonus plan, and a 110% increase in the percentage of the total bill for the case devoted to matters related to the bankruptcy bonus plan.

 [77]. Some firms may be more likely to enact bonus plans if, for example, a large part of their pre-bankruptcy compensation was in the form of stock that is unlikely to be worth anything after bankruptcy. Thus, it is possible that a composition effect drives the effect in Figure 1, if the cohort of Chapter 11 debtors pre-reform were firms that used more stock compensation than the cohort that came afterwards. I addressed the question of pre-bankruptcy compensation practices further in supra Part I.

 [78]. For example, if a firm’s CEO was paid $100 in the year before bankruptcy and $120 in the year the firm filed for bankruptcy, the test statistic is ($120-$100)/$100, or 12%.

 [79]. The firms in Table 2 all had historic and bankruptcy-year compensation data publicly available, either in securities filings or in the bankruptcy court documents that I reviewed to assemble the sample. It is possible that the missing firms are non-randomly selected, so the results in this Section should be interpreted cautiously. In general, firms tend to avoid disclosing executive compensation numbers if they can, viewing it as a trade secret, so the firms in Table 2 tend to skew towards the largest firms.

 [80]. From the large sample, both OTC Holdings and Regent Communications engaged in this type of planning. I studied both cases closely for my article, Do Activist Investors Constrain Managerial Moral Hazard In Chapter 11?: Evidence from Junior Activist Investing, supra note 35. Stumbling upon themand their thoughtful and successful attempts to use bankruptcy planning to evade court reviewinspired this project.

 [81]. One law firm that represents many large debtors in bankruptcy expressly warned its clients against this strategy, saying that it risked upsetting negotiations with creditors and created fraudulent conveyance risk. Sprayregen et al., supra note 21. Anecdotal evidence suggests that this practice is both common and continuing to this day. See Andrew Scurria, Takata Insiders Took in Millions Before Bankruptcy, Wall St. J. Pro: Bankr. (Aug. 10, 2017), https://www.wsj.com/articles/takata-insiders-took-in-millions-before-bankruptcy-1502405497.

 [82]. Disclosure Statement Under 11 U.S.C. § 1125 in Support of the Debtors’ Third Amended Joint Plan of Reorganization at 26–27, In re OTC Holdings Corp., No. 10-12636 (Bankr. D. Del. Nov. 2, 2010), ECF No. 263.

 [83]. See id.

 [84]. First Amended Disclosure Statement for the First Amended Joint Plan of Reorganization for Regent Commc’ns Corp., et al. at 24, In re Regent Commc’ns, Inc., No. 10-10632 (Bankr. D. Del. Mar. 22, 2010), ECF No. 128. A third non-case study sample, the 2009–2010 Chapter 11 of CCS Medical, involved similar bankruptcy planning and similarly allowed management to be paid bankruptcy-related bonuses without a judge finding that the plan satisfied the revised statute. See Transcript of Hearing re Debtors’ Motion for Order (a) Approving Bidding Procedures in Connection with Mktg. and Proposed Sale of Substantially All of the Debtors’ Assets, and (b) Granting Related Relief at 37–38, In re CCS Medical, Inc., No. 09-12390 (Bankr. D. Del. Nov. 23, 2009), ECF No. 673.

 [85]. Importantly, I only count bankruptcy bonuses that are bundled with the plan of reorganization and pay cash consideration as part of the analysis in this paragraph.

 [86]. See 11 U.S.C. § 1129 (2018).

 [87]. See In re Journal Register Co., 407 B.R. 520, 527, 537 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2009) (noting the court agreed that the confirmation of a plan is governed by section 1129, not section 503(c), of the Bankruptcy Code).

       [88].     Id. at 535.

 [89]. Id. at 528, 537.

 [90]. Id. at 538. In collecting data for Ellias, supra note 35, I observed other firms engage in similar behavior without first seeking court approval of a bonus plan. For example, Caraustar Industries paid management 50% of its 2009 incentive compensation on the effective date of the plan of reorganization. See Disclosure Statement for Debtors’ Joint Plan of Reorganization at 40, In re Caraustar Indus., Inc., No. 09-73830 (Bankr. N.D. Ga. May 31, 2009), ECF No. 21. Orleans Homebuilders paid $2.3 million in bonuses to forty senior managers as part of its plan of reorganization. See Debtor’s Second Amended Joint Plan of Reorganization at 44, In re Orleans Homebuilders, Inc., 561 B.R. 46 (Bankr. D. Del. 2010) (No. 10-10684). Other firms paying large bonuses as part of the planpresumably for performance during the bankruptcy casethat filed for bankruptcy in 2009 and 2010 include: Lyondell Chemical Company ($27.75 million); Reader’s Digest Association ($12.9 million); Visteon Corporation ($8.1 million for twelve managers); Mesa Air Group; Inc. ($5.5 million); Six Flags, Inc. ($5.025 million for seven managers); Innkeepers USA Trust ($4.5 million); Almatis B.V. ($4.3 million); Tronox Incorporated ($3 million for four managers); Cooper-Standard Holdings, Inc. ($2.49 million for thirteen managers); Orleans Homebuilders, Inc. ($2.38 million for forty managers); NTK Holdings, Inc. (Nortek, Inc.) ($2 million); FairPoint Communications, Inc. ($1.8 million); Journal Register Company ($1.7 million); Affiliated Media, Inc. ($1.6 million for fifty employees); Centaur, L.L.C. ($1.5 million for three managers); Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Company, Inc. ($1.48 million for 146 managers); Panolam Industries International, Inc. ($1 million); EnviroSolutions Holdings, Inc. ($1 million); Pliant Corporation ($0.87 million for one manager), International Aluminum Corporation ($0.65 million); Newark Group, Inc. ($0.5 million); Oriental Trading Company, Inc. ($0.45 million for fourteen managers); Neff Corp. ($0.35 million for two managers); and Regent Communications, Inc. ($0.31 million).

 [91]. Congress has long recognized the need for public disclosure of post-bankruptcy compensation and retention of bankruptcy insiders. See, e.g., 11 U.S.C. § 1129(a)(5)(B) (2018) (requiring disclosure of the identity of insiders who will be employed or retained by the debtor as well as their compensation).

 [92]. See Voluntary Petition (Chapter 11), In re Citadel Broadcasting Corp., No. 09-17442 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. Dec. 20, 2009).

 [93]. Objection of Virtus Capital LLC and Kenneth S. Grossman Pension Plan to the Disclosure Statement for the Joint Plan of Reorganization of Citadel Broadcasting Corp. and Its Debtor Affiliates Pursuant to Chapter 11 of the Bankr. Code at 4–5, In re Citadel Broadcasting Corp., No. 09-17442 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. Mar. 5, 2010), ECF No. 172. Post-bankruptcy equity incentive plans are largely outside the scope of this study because of data constraints. While I often observe firms setting aside post-reorganization equity for a management incentive plan as part of the plan of reorganization, I do not systematically observe the post-bankruptcy payouts. Citadel is an outlier case because it involved management misrepresenting the post-bankruptcy incentive plan to the court, with creditors learning about it and seeking some sort of remedy. The vast majority of Chapter 11 debtors do not become publicly traded immediately after bankruptcy; accordingly, there is little disclosure of post-bankruptcy equity compensation. The value of post-bankruptcy equity compensation is substantial and dwarfs all observed bankruptcy bonus plans (for the 2009 and 2010 sample, the aggregate amount of value in all of the bonus plans in the case study sample is $70 million; those same firms set aside approximately $387 million in aggregate management post-bankruptcy equity incentive plans). However, without information on post-bankruptcy distributions and understanding how equity was allocated across the employee base, it is impossible to determine how much of this equity actually flowed to management and how much may have flowed to management as a form of compensation for performance while the firm was in Chapter 11.

 [94]. See id.

 [95]. Reply of R2 Investments, LDC in Support of Motion Pursuant to 11 U.S.C. §§ 1142 and 105(a) to Direct Reorganized Debtors to Comply with Plan ¶ 5, In re Citadel Broadcasting Corp., No. 09-17442 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. Oct. 29, 2010), ECF No. 507.009), ECF No. 1476. 17, 2009), ECF No. 1476.docket, so I couldn’.D.N.Y.  scienter
take appointment? approving such array, the c1

 [96]. Motion Pursuant to 11 USC §§ 1142 and 105(a) to Direct Reorganized Debtors to Comply with Plan at 2, In re Citadel Broadcasting Corp, No. 09-17442 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. Oct. 6, 2010), ECF No. 498.

 [97]. Id. at 3.

       [98].     Id. at 2.

 [99]. See id. 1–5.

 [100]. Id. at 1.

 [101]. Id. at 2.

 [102]. Goldschmid, supra note 28, at 266–67.

 [103]. See supra Part II.

 [104]. An important limitation of the data is that in many cases, bonus plans were either incomplete when filed with the court or filed under seal. Accordingly, Table 3 reports the information that was publicly available both from bankruptcy court filings and from contemporaneous or post-bankruptcy SEC filings that filled in gaps from the court filings.

 [105]. This is consistent with anecdotal reports of practitioners. For example, a prominent creditor’s attorney told Bloomberg that “the amendment to the code changed the means, but not the value of these plans . . . [i]t’s just changed the way you get there, not necessarily how much management gets at the end.” Church, supra note 7.

 [106]. In expectation, the expected value of $100 in the future that will be received with 100% certainty is $100 ($100*100%). If management only has a 10% chance of receiving the bonus, in expectation that bonus is worth $10 ($100*10%). Thus, the board would need to propose a bonus plan that paid $1000 as part of a challenging incentive plan with a 10% ex ante probability of payout (because $1000*10% = $100) to provide the same level of motivation as a guaranteed retention bonus of $100.

 [107]. For example, if a bonus plan was tied to confirming a plan of reorganization by a certain date, we examined whether the bonus plan was approved by that date or if there was a subsequent extension.

 [108]. The exception is a higher observed rate of payout for firms with whole firm sale targets and payouts for emerging from bankruptcy. This likely reflects changes in bankruptcy practice, as it became more common for firms to go into Chapter 11 and conduct going-concern sales. See, e.g., Douglas G. Baird & Robert K. Rasmussen, The End of Bankruptcy, 55 Stan. L. Rev. 751, 751, 786–88 (2002) (discussing the rise in the use of Chapter 11 as a platform for the sale of a firm’s assets, often as a whole firm going-concern sale).

 [109]. This finding deserves two qualifications. As Table 4 shows, there is enough missing data to potentially bias the result. Additionally, bonus plans often have “tiers” of goals (as where, for example, a 10% revenue increase might yield $100 and a 15% revenue increase might yield $200), and I do not systematically examine enough information to determine which payout tier was reached in enough cases to report results.

 [110]. For example, if management would have worked for $100, but extracts extra rents of $50 for total compensation of $150, the extra $50 is money that could have otherwise been paid (in some form or another) to unsecured creditors in the event they are not being paid in full.

 [111]. In some cases, creditors file their own objections, either because they are secured creditors who are not represented by any official committee or because they want to act on their own, apart from the committee, for strategic reasons. I also summarize the litigation of these creditors as part of Table 4. The qualitative trends I discuss in this Section, while focusing on the official committee, are the same as the trends observed by unsecured creditors acting on their own.

 [112]. It is difficult to evaluate this because managers may simply propose an unreasonable bonus plan before moving the plan to what they know creditors will accept after negotiations and litigation. It is hard to know if management actually “moved” or simply went to where they always planned to be.

 [113]. Objection of the Official Comm. of Unsecured Creditors to the Motion of the Debtors and Debtors in Possession for Entry of an Order Approving a Key Employ. Incentive Plan at 8, In re Midway Games, Inc., No. 09-10465 (Bankr. D. Del. Mar. 27, 2009), ECF No. 203.

 [114]. Objection of the Official Comm. Of Unsecured Creditors to Debtor’s Motion for Order Approving the Implementation of Key Emp. Incentive Plan and Short Term Incentive Plan at 2, In re Hayes Lemmerz Int’l, Inc., No. 09-11655 (Bankr. D. Del. Aug. 14, 2009), ECF No. 460 [hereinafter Hayes Lemmerz Objection].

 [115]. Objection of the Official Comm. Of Unsecured Creditors to Debtor’s Motion for Order Authorizing Use of Cash Collateral for Payments Regarding HVM LLC Incentive Program at 28, In re Extended Stay Inc., No. 09-13764 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. Oct. 26, 2009), ECF No. 530; Objection of Official Comm. Of Unsecured Creditors to Motion of the Debtors for an Order Authorizing the Debtors to Continue Their Short-Term Incentive Plan at 12–13, In re Merisant Worldwide, Inc., No. 09-10059 (Bankr. D. Del. Mar. 20, 2009), ECF No. 211.

 [116]. Objection of the Official Comm. Of Unsecured Creditors to: (A) Debtors’ Motion for an Order Authorizing the Debtors to Implement Severance and Non-Insider Retention Programs; and (B) Debtors’ Motion for an Order Authorizing the Implementation of the Visteon Incentive Program at

8–10, In re Visteon Corp., No. 09-11786 (Bankr. D. Del. Jul. 13, 2009), ECF No. 528.

 [117]. Objection of the Official Comm. of Unsecured Creditors to Debtors’ Motion for Order Authorizing Debtors to Adopt and Implement an Incentive Plan for Certain Key Employ. Pursuant to Sections 363(b)(1), 503(c)(3), and 105(a) of the Bankr. Code at 13, In re Foamex Int’l, Inc., 368 B.R. 383 (Bankr. D. Del. 2007) (No. 09-10560).

 [118]. Id. at 1–2.

 [119]. Id. at 2.

 [120]. Id. at 2–4.

     [121].     See id. at 2–5.

 [122]. Official Comm. Of Unsecured Creditors’ Objection to Debtors’ Motions to Shorten Notice Relating to Their (I) Motion for Approval of Exec. Comp. and Emp. Incentive Plan for Non-Debtor OpCo Subsidiaries and (II) Motion to File Related Exhibits Under Seal at 2–3, In re Trico Marine Servs., Inc., 450 B.R. 474 (Bankr. D. Del. 2011) (No. 10-12653).

 [123]. Debtors’ Reply to the Objection of the Official Comm. of Unsecured Creditors to Motion of the Debtors for Entry of an Order Approving the Debtors’ Key Employee Incentive Plan at 2, In re NEFF Co., No. 10-12610 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. Jun. 28, 2010), ECF No. 199. In response, the debtors moved the “emergence incentive award” to the plan of reorganization. Id. at 3; see also supra note 90 and accompanying text.

 [124]. Hayes Lemmerz Objection, supra note 114, at 3.

 [125]. In one case, the Debtor complained that the U.S. Trustee’s objection “appears to be based on a form and ignores the evidence [the debtor] submitted.” Tronox’s Response to the Objection of the U.S. Tr. to Tronox’s Motion for Entry of an Order Approving Tronox’s Key Emp. Incentive Plan at 2, In re Tronox, Inc., 503 B.R. 239 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2009) (No. 09-10156).

 [126]. See generally Objection of the U.S. Tr. to Debtor’s Motion for Order Approving Debtors’ Key Mgmt. Incentive Plan, In re Lear Corp., No. 09-14326 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. Jul. 20, 2009), ECF No. 161.

 [127]. Id. at 1–2, 6.

 [128]. See id. at 7.

 [129]. Id.

 [130]. Id.

 [131]. See id.

 [132]. U.S. Tr.’s Objection to Debtors’ Motion for Entry of an Order Authorizing Incentive Payments to Debtors Employees at 3, In re Noble Int’l Ltd., No. 09-51720 (Bankr. E.D. Mich. Apr. 22, 2009), ECF No. 60.

 [133]. U.S. Tr.’s Objection to the Debtors Motion for Entry of an Order Approving the Debtor’s Incentive Plan and Authorizing Payments Thereunder Pursuant to §§ 363(b) and 503(b) at 2, In re Vermillion, Inc., No. 09 -11091 (Bankr. D. Del. May 6, 2009), ECF No. 42.

 [134]. BearingPoint Objection, supra note 41, at 7.

 [135]. See Kan Nishida, Demystifying Text Analytics Part 3 — Finding Similar Documents with Cosine Similarity Algorithim, Medium: Learn Data Science (June 23, 2016), https://blog.exploratory
.io/demystifying-text-analytics-finding-similar-documents-with-cosine-similarity-e7b9e5b8e515.

 [136]. See Letter from Assistant Attorney Gen. Ronald Weich, to U.S. Senator Charles E. Grassley 1 (Mar. 5, 2012), http://online.wsj.com/public/resources/documents/Letter031312.pdf.

 [137]. Id. at 2.

 [138]. See Jonathan Randles, Westmoreland Paid Millions in Executive Bonuses in Year Before Bankruptcy, Wall St. J. (Nov. 9, 2018), https://www.wsj.com/articles/westmoreland-paid-millions-in-executive-bonuses-in-year-before-bankruptcy-1541804141.

 [139]. See Second Monthly Application of Akin Gump Strauss Hauer & Feld LLP, Co-Counsel for Debtors and Debtors in Possession, for Interim Allowance of Compensation and for the Reimbursement of Expenses for Services Rendered During the Period from March 1, 2009 through March 31, 2009, Ex. B at 14, In re Foamex International Inc., No. 09-10560 (Bankr. D. Del. May 11, 2009), ECF No. 390.

 

The Enduring Distinction between Business Entities and Security Interests – Article by Ofer Eldar & Andrew Verstein

From Volume 92, Number 2 (January 2019)
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The Enduring Distinction between Business Entities and Security Interests

Ofer Eldar & Andrew Verstein[*]

What are business entities for? What are security interests for? The prevailing answer in legal scholarship is that both bodies of law exist to partition assets for the benefit of designated creditors. But if both bodies of law partition assets, then what distinguishes them? In fact, these bodies of law appear to be converging as increasing flexibility irons out any differences. Indeed, many legal products, such as securitization vehicles, insurance products known as captive insurance, and mutual funds, employ entities to create distinct asset pools. Moreover, recent legal innovations, including “protected cells” (which were created to facilitate such products), further blur the boundaries between security interests and entities, suggesting that convergence has already arrived.

This Article identifies and defends a central distinction between business entities and security interests. We argue that while both bodies of law support asset partitioning, they do so with different priority schemes. Security interests construct asset pools subject to fixed priority, meaning that the debtor is unable to pledge the same collateral to new creditors in a way that changes the existing priority scheme. Conversely, entities are associated with floating priority, whereby the debtor retains the freedom to pledge the same assets to other creditors with the same or even higher priority than existing ones.

The distinction is valuable in understanding financial products such as securitization, captive insurance, and mutual funds. We show that such products are driven by an appetite for assets pools with a fixed priority scheme, and recent legal innovations are primarily designed to meet this need. This distinction is consistent with the intuitive view of entities as managed going concerns and security interests as mere interests in assets. The distinction is also enduring. Despite the apparent convergence of forms, we predict that the distinction we offer will survive legal and technological innovations.

              TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

I. Entities and Security Interests as
Property Law

II. Our Proposed Distinction: Fixed
versus Floating Priority

A. Only Security Interests Allow Fixed Priority
over an Asset Pool

1. Covenants

2. Structural Priority

3. Charter Provision

4. Creditor Control

B. Only Entities Allow Floating Priority over
an Asset Pool

1. Ex Post Consent

2. Ex Ante Consent

3. Single Creditor

C. The Relative Benefits (and Costs) of Floating
and Fixed Priority

III. Other Potential Distinctions and Why
They Do Not Work

A. Fixed Pools of Assets

B. Filings by Creditors

C. In Rem Rights Against Third Parties

D. Governance Structure

E. Limited Liability

F. Legal Personality

G. Bankruptcy Protection

IV. Explaining the Structure of
Financial Products

A. Securitization

B. Captive Insurance

C. Mutual Funds

V. The Evolution of New Legal Forms

VI. Policy Implications

A. Judicial Treatment of the New Legal Forms

B. Bankruptcy Remoteness for Security Interests

VII. Enduring Legal and Technological
Innovations

Conclusion

 

Introduction

The last decades have brought about significant innovation in the use of business entities in financial structures. While entities have long been used to control risk and organize production, business planners gradually began using them primarily as vessels to hold assets. A prime example of such innovation is securitization. In a standard securitization, a sponsor corporation transfers some of its assets to an entity, which borrows money from creditors and passes the money back to the sponsor as consideration for the assets. In many ways, securitization resembles a secured loan directly to the sponsor. However, an entity is interposed to hold the assets in order to assure creditors of their special claim to the assets.[1] The creative use of entities to pool assets is not limited to securitization vehicles,[2] but also includes other products, such as investment funds[3] and insurance.[4] All of these industries have experienced dramatic growth in recent years amounting to many trillions of dollars.[5] A hallmark of each of these important financial innovations is the partitioning of assets into different pools for the benefit of designated creditors, each with different risk profiles, contained within an entity.

The growing use of entities as a mechanism for pledging a pool of assets has been accompanied by a shift in academic thinking about the role of entities. Historically, law and economics scholars viewed entities primarily as a “nexus of contracts” between a fictional entity and investors, customers, and employees[6] and entity law as a type of standard form contract among such disparate groups.[7] However, the dominant view of late has emphasized the function of entities in patterning creditor rights in ways that no bundle of contracts could practicably achieve.[8] This asset partitioning role is a form of property law because it is good against the world and cannot be accomplished through bilateral contracts.[9] As with the concurrent innovation in business practice, this “property” theory defines the essential role of entities as a legal tool for partitioning assets into distinct pools for the benefit of some creditors relative to others.[10]

Both commercial and scholarly treatment of entities have been enriched by the asset partitioning theory. Business planners use entities in alternative forms of secured lending, and scholars rationalize entities as a species of property law. Yet it is not entirely clear why entities are actually necessary in such settings. Security interests also give creditors priority over identified pools of assets and would seem to provide a suitable foundation for asset-backed finance. Why not just use security interests for the same purpose? Conversely, if entities can substitute for security interests, why ever bother with security interests? The literature has long recognized the potential substitutability of entities and security interests; however, scholars have largely left open the question of whether there is any essential distinction between the two legal forms that would make one optimal relative to the other.[11]  A looming possibility is that there is no essential distinction between entities and security interests and that these two legal forms will ultimately converge.[12]

Recent legal innovations may seem to suggest that this moment of convergence is fast approaching. New legal forms are emerging, which blur the distinction between security interests and entities. For example, a “protected cell company” can issue multiple tranches of notes with each issuance secured by a different pool of assets placed within a protected cell.[13] A single entity consists of multiple protected cells, each cell securing obligations to different classes of creditors. The cells exhibit some entity-like features (for example, they can own property and enter into contracts) without others (for example, they have no board of directors or charter). Not surprisingly, “cells,” “series,” “segregated portfolios,” and other forms are used to economize the costs of creating multiple entities in products where entities are used effectively as security interests (for example, securitization vehicles, investment funds, and captive insurance). They are arguably best understood as new forms of security interest, which share many of the features associated with entities. Regardless of whether these new products are “really” entities or security interests, they have made the distinction between entities and security interests largely elusive.

Despite these developments, this Article challenges the notion that entities and security interests are becoming indistinguishable by offering a novel theory of the distinction between them. We adopt the property theory of entities, but we develop it by preventing the collapse it implies between security interests and business entities. We argue that while both security interest law and entity law create asset partitions, they differ with respect to the priority schemes operating on those pools.

Specifically, we argue that the functional difference between security interests and entities is that entities create floating priority over asset pools while security interests opt the parties into a fixed priority scheme.[14] By floating priority scheme, we mean that the administrator of the assets is generally permitted to pledge the same assets to other creditors with the same or even higher priority than existing ones. Conversely, a fixed priority scheme means that it is not possible for the administrator to pledge the assets in a manner that changes the existing priority scheme, which typically affords a prior claim to the secured party over any other creditors.

From a theoretical perspective, the distinction we offer has five main attractive features. First, it fits well with doctrinal law, which insists that security interests, but not entities, establish fixed priority.[15] Second, it is consistent with the intuitive view of entities as managed going concerns and security interests as mere interests in assets. Third, it is functional in that it illuminates the economic benefits and costs of each priority scheme. Fixed priority reduces the creditors’ costs of evaluating assets, but restricts managerial discretion, whereas floating priority decreases the former, but increases the latter.[16] Fourth, the distinction is essential in the sense that it is not possible to create asset pools with floating priority using only security interests and contractual mechanisms, and likewise, it is impracticable to create asset pools with fixed priority using only entities and contract.[17] Fifth, the distinction is enduring. It not only survives the recent evolution of new legal forms, but we predict it will also survive other innovations that will likely blur the distinction between contract law and property law, such as blockchain technology.

In addition to our theoretical contribution, the distinction between fixed and floating priority has several important practical and explanatory implications. First, it is useful for understanding how entities and security interests are used in different financial structures, primarily securitizations, investment funds, and captive insurance. Taking securitization as an example, much of the literature has focused on the use of entities in such structures. This literature emphasizes that entities are necessary in those structures because they are “bankruptcy remote.”[18] Yet the literature on securitizations seems to have underappreciated the necessity of security interests to securitizations. While most securitizations use entities, all use security interests. This is because without fixed priority, the economic rationale for securitizationsparticularly reducing the costs of evaluating assetswould largely disappear. More surprisingly, we show that demand for fixed priority explains the structure of other financial products, such as mutual funds and captive insurance.

Second, the distinction we propose allows us to better understand the recent evolution of new legal forms. We show that with few exceptions, these forms are better characterized as security interests, and that their evolution is mainly driven by an appetite for fixed priority schemes. In particular, most jurisdictions limit the use of cells to particular financial products (especially securitizations, investment funds, and captive insurance), and through regulation of such products, the administrator of the assets cannot change the priority scheme of the creditors secured by the cells. In this way, we claim that the evolution of the new form does not undermine the distinction between fixed and floating priority, but rather reinforces it.

Third, our account may inform judicial decisionmaking. With the evolution of innovative financial structures and flexible legal forms, courts are called on to characterize these flexible forms and define their scopes. Are the cells entities? Security interests? Without functional principles for such cases, legal results will be either arbitrary or formalistic.[19] Our analysis can guide courts in adjudicating cases that involve such determinations.

Fourth, our analysis suggests that there may be scope for further flexibility in legal forms, primarily security interests. In particular, we recommend according greater bankruptcy remoteness to security interests, at least for certain financial transactions such as securitizations. Such a reform could introduce greater legal certainty at a lower cost.

Our Article proceeds as follows. Part I explains the functional similarities between entities and security interests as asset partitioning technologies and shows how each can often serve as a substitute for the other. Part II explains our thesis that the feature distinguishing entities and security interests is that the former provides a floating priority scheme and the latter provides a fixed priority scheme. Part III discusses alternative candidate distinctions and explains why they are not satisfactory. Part IV lays out the explanatory implications of our view, showing how it sheds light on existing financial products. Part V discusses the evolution of new legal forms, such as protected cell companies. Part VI presents some policy implications. Part VII expresses our view that the analytical distinction we make will survive legal and technological innovations.

I.  Entities and Security Interests as Property Law

Before embarking on the task of articulating a distinction, it is important to highlight the functional similarities of entities and security interests as property law. By property law, we mean that these bodies of law create entitlements that are binding against the world rather than just against those who agree to them. Property law is essential to facilitating asset partitioning, which means shielding a pool of assets from the claims of creditors of other pools of assets.[20]

To illustrate the idea of asset partitioning, it is useful to have in mind a simple example.[21] Consider an individual (the owner”) who wishes to finance several shopping malls. For example, A1 (for “Asset 1”) might be a large outdoor luxury shopping mall in Hawaii, geared to high-end tourists.[22] A2 might be a small, local indoor mall in Oklahoma, which attracts local residents and students at a nearby university.[23] The owner’s financiers are C1 (for “Creditor 1”), C2, C3, and so forth.[24] The simplest arrangement for financing these malls is for the owner to personally own the assets and borrow from the creditors. This arrangement is depicted visually in Figure 1.

Figure 1.  No Partition

 

Alternatively, the owner could place the Hawaiian shopping mall in Entity 1 and cause Entity 1 to borrow only from C1. She could likewise place the Oklahoma mall into Entity 2, to which C2 would lend (see Figure 2). Entities make it possible for a single owner to divide her assets into distinct pools, each of which can be selectively pledged to or withheld from particular creditors.

Figure 2.  Entity Partitioning

 

Organizing the assets in this way, she isolates each creditor’s risk exposure to a specified pool and simultaneously protects each pool from the creditors of other pools. A downturn in tourism in Oahu is bad news for C1; the likely decrease in the value of the Hawaii mall makes her less likely to be repaid. However, tourism is of no concern to C2. His claim on the Oklahoma mall is just as strong as beforehe need not fear that C1 will levy on the Oklahoma mall.

This asset partitioning through the use of entities reduces the costs of appraising the credit risk of the owner and monitoring her.[25] No individual creditor need invest in the capacity to appraise and monitor the debtor’s whole corpus of operations. Instead, each creditor can specialize in one pool of assets, disregarding the others.[26] C1 can specialize in high-end malls in Hawaii, whereas C2 can focus on the local Oklahoma shops.

Security interests can achieve similar asset partitioning to that of entities, with comparable benefits.[27] Imagine that instead of using any entities, the owner borrows and owns the assets personallybut grants security interests in her assets to particular creditors. She grants C1 a security interest in A1, the Hawaiian shopping mall, and she grants C2 a security interest in A2, the Oklahoma shopping mall.

Figure 3.  Security Interest Partitioning

 

In this way, C1’s priority to the Hawaiian shopping center over C2 is assured, as is C2’s priority over C1 to the Oklahoma shopping mall.[28] Pacific tourism does not impact the value of C2’s claim. Likewise, C1 can disregard any local conditions that could affect the Oklahoma mall. As with entities, this structure isolates creditor risk exposure and allows specialization.[29] To be sure, there are some differences between entities and security interests. We discuss these in detail in Part III below.

This asset partitioning function of both entities and security interests is a species of property law because it cannot be practically accomplished through contracts alone. The reason is that contractual promises are bilateral and, unlike property law, do not bind third parties.

Without using security interests or entities, C2 might demand from the owner that C1 (and any future creditors) have no recourse to the Oklahoma mall. But even if the owner agrees to such a contractual term, she may rationally breach it to C2’s detriment. She can get a cheaper interest rate from C1 by offering recourse to all of her assets, including the Oklahoma mall. The owner can also shift assets from one business to another. For instance, the owner could sell a valuable Waikiki property and plow the proceeds into an expansion of the Oklahoma shopping mall, exposing C1 to risk that he did not bargain for. C2 can sue owner for these breaches, but he cannot invalidate C1’s claim to all of the owner’s assets, including the Oklahoma mall, or undo the sale of the Hawaii mall. Any deal between C2 and the owner was a contractual deal, and contracts bind only on those who have notice of them.

C1 would fare better if the owner granted him a security interest or placed the mall in a separate entity.[30] Efforts to move assets across asset partitions, or otherwise shift the assets away from their intended purposes, are constrained by various remedies against wrongful shifting, primarily fraudulent conveyance laws in the case of entities, and encumbrance on the property in the case of security interests.[31] Property law thus solves a multi-lateral commitment problem that contracts alone cannot.

II.  Our Proposed Distinction: Fixed versus Floating Priority

In this Part we identify and defend the respective functions served by entities and security interests that cannot be practicably reproduced by the other form. We argue that although both bodies of law can partition assets, they do so with different rules for updating priority over those assets.

When entities are used to partition assets, they do so without fixing the priority of creditors to the assets. If the pool lacks the resources to fully repay all the creditors, they share ratably in their recovery. The parties can initially agree to a payment hierarchy, so that one creditor gets higher priority than another, but the credit hierarchy is floating because the owner can always update it to undermine the priority of existing creditors by pledging the assets to additional creditors. In contrast, security interests fix priority against later efforts by the owner to grant equal (or higher) priority to other creditors. The typical fixed priority pattern is to prioritize the first perfected secured interest over other claims in the assets.[32]

The fixedness of priority is a ubiquitous feature of security interests. Not only can security interests create priority schemes over a pool of assets, but they always grant fixed priority.[33] Security interests and entities coexist in the world and in particular structures because they offer different and irreplaceable priority schemes for creditors.

In order to show that security interests and entities are truly distinct, we need to show that their functions are distinct, in that each performs an essential role that no other body of law can perform. In Section II.A, we show that one cannot create floating priority asset pools without entity law, and in Section II.B, we explain that it is impossible to create fixed priority that binds third parties without security interests.

Section II.C describes what is at stake in choosing one priority scheme over another. The distinction between fixed and floating priority is economically functional, conferring differing costs and benefits to the parties who use them. We explain the tradeoffs inherent in deploying one body of law or the other.

A.  Only Security Interests Allow Fixed Priority over an Asset Pool

We first argue that security interests, but not entities, can create fixed priority. To draw again on the shopping mall example, we claim that if C2 wishes to have first priority over the Oklahoma mall, only security interests make this possible. If the owner instead partitions her assets by placing the Oklahoma mall in a separate entity, but does not give C2 a security interest over the mall, C2 would not be able to achieve fixed priority over it. We examine four possible techniques to create fixed priority without security interests, none of which succeed.

1.  Covenants

A plainly insufficient strategy is simply to have the owner promise not to take on new creditors as peers to C2. The trouble is that these promises are binding only on the owner, and not any other creditor (such as C3) who lends to the owner. What C2 would like to do, and what contract law does not allow, is to cite the owner’s promise in litigation against C3 to undermine C3’s claim on the assets. C2 may monitor the owner to make sure that her priority is respected, but such monitoring is likely to be very costly, and unrealistic for all but the largest creditors.

2.  Structural Priority

It may be argued that perhaps structural priority, the stacking of entities into nested tiers, can fix the priorities among creditors.[34] Imagine that owner wishes to finance the Oklahoma mall, with a $10 senior loan from C2 and a $10 junior loan from C3. The owner can achieve this result by forming Entity 3, of which she is the sole shareholder, and which owns nothing but shares of Entity 2. Entity 2 is then made the owner of the business assets. In principle, C2 will be repaid if the assets produce $10 because the money is generated by an entity that owes no one except for C2. Only if Entity 2 makes enough money to cover its debts to C2, can it pay dividends up to Entity 3which can use that money to pay C3. As depicted in Figure 4, this structure creates a payment hierarchy.[35]

Figure 4.  Structural Priority

However, structural priority is an imperfect substitute for fixing priorities. Entity 2 can simply take on additional creditors as peers to C2. C2 retains priority over C3, but not over any other future creditors of Entity 2. Covenants not to take on additional creditors are not credible in the same way as discussed above.

3.  Charter Provision

Some scholars have argued that an entity’s charter should be able to affect creditor relations. For example, a corporation’s charter might be amended to specify that it can no longer borrow, or can borrow only junior terms, and to award recovery rights against third parties who frustrate these objectives.[36] C2 could then sue to invalidate as ultra vires any transaction at odds with a priority-fixing charter provision, such as a loan from C3. Unfortunately for C2, courts do not invalidate ultra vires transactions.[37] C3’s interest would remain valid even if it violated a charter provision.[38] Moreover, a charter provision limiting the firm’s ability to borrow is generally not enforceable.[39]

4.  Creditor Control

Another idea would be for C2 to take control of Entity 2, so that C2’s approval would be required for any new borrowing. C2 could then decline to authorize any credit that would undermine C2’s senior priority. C2 could take this control in a number of ways, but one of them would be for the owner to assign her ownership interest in Entity 2 to C2. As controlling shareholder, C2 could select a trusted board that will cater to his or her interests.

However, control is not a practical solution. First, it is at best a solution for just one creditor; it is not feasible for every creditor in the hierarchy to take an absolute assignment and install a board of directors. Second, the controlling creditor exposes itself to liability.[40] Third, creditor control is likely to be inefficient. Usually, the owner has the best incentives and expertise to select and discipline managers of the assets.

Fourth, creditor control sets in motion a problem of debt liquidity. C2 knows better than anyone else whether she has been effective in enforcing the priority scheme. Perhaps C2 has allowed a senior or peer claim to arise, out of error or in exchange for side-payment. When C2 wishes to sell her interest to a new investor, that new investor will not know whether C2 truly has the senior priority she claims to have.[41] The new investor will discount C2’s interest accordingly, in a way that would not occur if C2’s priority was public knowledge.[42]

B.  Only Entities Allow Floating Priority over an Asset Pool

We have argued that entities cannot create fixed priority, and we now show that the complementary limitation applies to security interests, such that floating priority over asset pools would be impracticable without entities. Thus, the only way for the owner to create floating priority as to the Oklahoma mall is for her to place it within an entity, as in Figure 2. Figure 5 demonstrates that, in principle, security interests (sans entity) can achieve asset partitioning. However, security interests necessarily deny the owner the power to raise additional funds by pledging the collateral to later creditors (C3, C4, and so forth). To prove our claim, we consider three non-entity techniques for creating floating priority over asset pools. All three fail.

 

Figure 5.  Security Interest Partion with Multiple Creditors

 

1.  Ex Post Consent

The owner could freely add creditors to Asset 2 if the existing creditors always agree to subordinate themselves when the owner wishes to pledge the same asset to a new creditor (C4). Then the Oklahoma mall will serve as ratable collateral to C2, C3, and C4, all of whom will recover ahead of C1. Yet securing creditor-by-creditor consent is impractical for large ventures with millions of creditors (including all customers, suppliers, and investors). Each new creditor would necessitate unique subordination agreements from the entire existing network. Moreover, it is unrealistic to assume that creditors will assent to subordination. Some might like to freeride on other creditors, retaining their priority even as other creditors accept subordination. Others might simply hold out, demanding payment in exchange for consent. As many creditors make these types of strategic calculations, the costs of obtaining ex post consent will likely be preclusive.

Transaction costs continue to mount since each new creditor will have to expend resources verifying that subordination of all previous creditors has been accomplished. If the owner fails to secure a valid subordination from C2, then C2 will retain higher priority over C4. To actually protect her interest, C4 would have to vet each purported subordination agreement to make sure that it is valid and effective, and she would have to check whether any creditors’ subordination agreements are missing from the stack. Thus, ex post consent creates a staggering due diligence burden for later creditors.

2.  Ex Ante Consent

The owner may bargain with a potential creditor for the right of the owner to add new peer creditors that will share with him equal priority to the assets. For example, imagine that at the time of contracting, C2 agreed to subordinate herself to any other creditor who met certain specified conditions. Among those conditions would be acceptance of an identical subordination agreement. Thus, C2 would hold the first lien on the Oklahoma mall, but would be a peer to C3 if C3 agreed to subordinate herself to all similarly agreeing creditors. When C4 arrives, she will have an incentive to adopt a similar clause. If she does so, then C2 and C3 will automatically relinquish their higher priority. If she fails to adopt such an agreement, the prior subordination agreements will not apply to her, and she will therefore fall behind C2 and C3. If all of them comply, the result is that each creditor would share ratably in the Oklahoma mall.

Yet this solution also falls apart in light of the same problems that plagued the ex post solution. It is possible that C4 will not want to join the consortium. Failing to do so will place her lower in priority than C2 and C3but it will preserve her status against all later creditors.[43] The fact that some creditors could rationally opt out of the arrangement resuscitates diligence problems, as later creditors demand assurances that all earlier creditors have opted in to the equality scheme.

3.  Single Creditor

Another more complicated ex ante technique would be to try to run all of a project’s financing through a single creditor (C2).[44] C2 takes a first lien over the Oklahoma mall to secure all present and all future claims by C2, even claims acquired by assignment from subsequent creditors nominated by the owner. When the owner borrows from C3, she nominates C3’s claim as eligible for assignment. C3 assigns the claim to C2 (in exchange for a non-recourse claim against C2 secured by the very claim assigned to C2). The new loan now stands as equal priority to C2’s original claim because the security interest covers all claims held by C2. This seems to create floating priority because the owner has the power to change the priority of the creditors by assigning new claims to C2. Figure 6 depicts this arrangement.[45]

Nevertheless, this clever maneuvering is unlikely to be a good substitute for floating priority. The apparent ratable priority disappears whenever the later creditors want to make a claim. Recall that the claims against the owner are equal priority only when in C2’s hands. Suppose C2 ceases to pay C3 or C4, for example, if the owner does not pay C2 with respect to their respective claims. In this case, recovery by C3 and C4 is limited to the claims (against the owner) that they transferred to C2. Upon repossessing them, they drop back into the lower priority earned by their order of perfection. Thus, fixed priority in reinstated whenever priority ends up mattering.

Figure 6.  Security Interest Partition with Lead Creditor

 

More importantly, courts resist schemes such as the one depicted in Figure 6. In In re E.A. Fretz Co., a creditor attempted to create floating priority by entering into security agreements that purported to secure the loans not only by that creditor, but also loans by the creditor’s “present or future affiliates,” and covered debt owed by the debtor that the creditor may have obtained “by assignment or otherwise.”[46] The creditor then obtained notes from its affiliated creditors who advanced funds to the debtor.[47] The creditor claimed that all affiliated creditors were covered by the security interest, such that they shared ratably in the secured assets (and ahead of thirdparty creditors).

However, the Fifth Circuit held that notwithstanding the security agreements, the subsidiaries could not benefit from the parent’s prioritized security interest.[48] The court held that Article 9 does not permit “‘floating secured parties,’ that is, an open-ended class of creditors with unsecured and unperfected interests who . . . can assign their claims to a more senior lienor and magically secure and perfect their interests under an omnibus security agreement and financing statement.”[49] The court reasoned that allowing such conduct would disrupt commercial transactions to an unwarranted and unnecessary degree[,][50] presumably because it would undermine the fixed scheme created by security interests.

C.  The Relative Benefits (and Costs) of Floating and Fixed Priority

In this Section, we elaborate on the key benefits and costs associated with fixed and floating priorities. Ultimately, the optimal priority scheme depends on a trade-off between reducing the costs of evaluation through fixed priority and the benefits of maintaining managerial discretion to finance the business.

As discussed above, reducing creditors’ costs of evaluating assets is probably the most often cited benefit of asset-partitioning.[51] Fixed priority reduces these costs even further. Using again our simplified example, suppose the Oklahoma shopping mall is placed within Entity 2 owned by the owner, and C2 lends to Entity 2, as in Figure 2. Compare this with a situation whereby C2 lends to the owner and gets a security interest in the shopping mall (A2), as in Figure 3. In both cases, C2 will have priority over C1. However, in the first case, C2’s claim to the shopping mall in the event of default will be diluted by the claims of any other creditors to Entity 2, say C3, C4, and so forth. On the other hand, if C2 has a security interest, she can generally collect on the shopping mall, without worrying about any other creditors, who will have to claim against the other assets of the owner or whatever value is left in A2 once C2 is satisfied. As a result, C2 does not need to spend as much resources on evaluating the creditworthiness of the owner and the owner’s management of the business. In contrast, if the owner can borrow from other creditors through Entity 2, C2 must expend the costs of assessing ex ante the quality of the management by the owner and monitor the business to make sure that the owner doesn’t excessively leverage Entity 2. C2 must also check whether the owner uses the proceeds of all loans (not just the loan from C2) for productive purposes. If C2 fails to do so, the value of her claim against Entity 2 will be diluted.

Against the savings in evaluation costs, parties must tradeoff the value of managerial discretion. Under floating priority, the owners retain the right to take on new creditors with the same priority. Fixed priority imposes constraints on the owner’s subsequent borrowings. Subsequent lenders will be more hesitant to lend if they stand lower in priority than earlier secured creditors, or will demand higher interest rates. This can be inefficient if it hampers a firm’s ability to raise funds for productive activity.

For many operating companies, the managers (on behalf of the owner) need flexibility to respond to changing circumstancesadjusting the company’s assets and liabilities accordingly. It could be very costly for the business to give up this flexibility in terms of future borrowing. The creditors in this case are effectively lending against the goingconcern value of the company, and such value is a function of managerial discretion. In fact, even the creditors would be harmed by unduly impairing the ability of managers to obtain more financing, because such financing could be essential for enhancing the goingconcern value of the business.

As one extreme example, consider the value of flexibility for a leveraged buyout (“LBO”). In an LBO, the stock of the company is sold to a new buyer, typically a private equity firm, which obtains financing from a creditor using as security all the assets of the business. Thus, an LBO involves a comprehensive updating of the priority of all existing creditors by subordinating them to a single creditor. If all priorities were fixed, it would be difficult to effect an LBO. Creditors would be reluctant to finance these risky transactions if they stood last in line behind all existing creditors. Yet LBOs have historically yielded significant profits for shareholders and increased efficiency of firms.[52] Floating priority reserves for managers the option to undertake an LBO, which may be a valuable option for some companies.

Fixed priority is more valuable in two main circumstances. The first is when the value of managerial discretion is limited. The simplest example is a home mortgage. Creditors could finance individual homes by placing the house in an entity without a security interest and extending the loan to the entity. However, they do not use this alternative form of asset partitioning. Instead, mortgages (that is, security interests) are ubiquitous in residential finance transactions. The reason is in part that managerial discretion is a bug, not a feature, in these consumer transactions. The owner of an entity would be able to pledge the house to other creditors, a decision unlikely to be valuable for the bank-creditor. Homeowners are unlikely to be skilled business people. To the contrary, a homebuyer is more likely to engage in undue risk or personal consumption. The costs to the creditor of monitoring the other loans of the homeowner would be extremely high. Without security interests, debtors would be tempted to take on negative expected value projects, pledging existing collateral for increasingly risky ventures.[53]

The second circumstance is when debt liquidity is critical. If debt can be sold in the secondary market, the owner can obtain better credit terms. Debt is more liquid when its priority is fixed. The reason is that if buyers had to undertake expensive appraisal and monitoring of the creditworthiness of the owner, the transaction costs of buying the debt would be higher. Consider a creditor that buys a home mortgage from the original lender (or more likely, buys many home mortgages from many lenders). The home mortgage would be difficult to assign if the buyer in the secondary market needs to accrue substantial costs in monitoring the homeowner.

Secondary sales are subject to an adverse selection problem, which is the risk that the sellers are only selling the worst debt and keeping the best for themselves. For example, buyers may be concerned that the owner has pledged the house to additional creditors. If the priorities to the underlying assets cannot be undermined by the owner, then buyers need not investigate whether the owner has taken such an action. At least one study confirms that that security interests improve liquidity, by showing that secured bonds have higher liquidity than unsecured bonds, controlling for various bond characteristics, even including the rating of the bonds.[54]

III.  Other Potential Distinctions and Why They Do Not Work

We showed in Part II that the distinction between fixed and floating priority may serve as the distinction between entities and security interests. An essential distinction must provide a meaningful economic function that cannot be accomplished by a creative use of the other legal form and other bodies of laws, primarily contract and agency law. In this Part we show that other potential distinctions do not satisfy these criteria. Nevertheless, we briefly explain why such characteristics are more likely to follow from or accompany legal pools with fixed or floating priority, as applicable: many familiar features of both bodies of law work to support the essential distinction. Thus, these other potential distinctions are often complements to our fixed/floating distinction.

A.  Fixed Pools of Assets

Security interests typically attach to identified assets, such as a home or a shopping mall. This is reflected in the U.C.C., which prohibits a blanket pledge of all the assets of any description and requires a more specific description of the particular assets which are covered by the security agreement.[55]

However, it is unlikely that specificity of the pool of assets is the distinguishing feature of security interests. For one thing, security interests allow floating asset pools. The U.C.C. does allow floating liens over assets that cover both present and future (“afteracquired”) assets.[56] Creditors also commonly take interests in the proceeds of the assets, meaning the cash for which items are sold and whatever that cash is spent on.[57] Moreover, other jurisdictions go even further by allowing security interests to float over the whole business.[58] On the other hand, some entity-based transactions such as securitizations are designed to restrict any change in the pool of assets.[59]

It is not surprising, though, that security interests are associated with more specific or clearly defined sets of assets. Creditors who seek fixed priority are taking steps to support specialized monitoring and facilitate valuation in a secondary market. Generally, if the pool of assets is subject to drastic changes, the monitoring efficiencies associated with fixed priority may be lost.

B.  Filings by Creditors

Adding secured creditors may be cumbersome. For example, Article 9 typically requires filing a new financing statement that lists the new creditor by name.[60] Entity-based pools can take on new creditors without filing. However, filing obligations are unlikely to be material.[61] Scholars have noted that, in practice, the cost of filing affects the decision of whether to secure a loan “only in very rare cases.”[62] Further, as information technology improves, recording and verification costs are likely to decrease.[63] Moreover, even entities must make frequent filings.[64]

Although filing cannot serve as a principled distinction between the two bodies of law, requiring it makes sense for security interests, but not entities.[65] Filing through a registry gives notice to creditors about those who have fixed priority to the relevant asset pool. This information is likely relatively stable. Conversely, information about the identity of unsecured creditors who have floating priority is likely to be unhelpful to other creditors because the manager of the assets can change their identity at any time.

C.  In Rem Rights Against Third Parties

Security interest law gives secured parties a remedy against third parties.[66] When a lien attaches to an asset, that lien follows the asset even if it is sold. If the debtor defaults, the creditor can foreclose on the asset,[67] even if it is in the hands of new, potentially innocent owners.[68] Both discourage unauthorized shifting of encumbered assets and protect the creditor if such shifting occurs.[69] This type of right against third parties is typically referred to as the “in rem” quality of property law, as opposed to “in personam” rights. The latter are created by contract law and are binding only on the contracting parties and, sometimes, those on notice of the contracts.

Yet the advantages of security interests in this respect are relative rather than absolute. Entity law can also give an asset pool’s creditors a claim against third parties, so it is also in rem. When assets are owned by an entity, efforts to sell or pledge them are subject to fraudulent conveyance law, which invalidates transfers that are intended to frustrate creditors.[70] It also invalidates transfers for less than reasonable value when the debtor becomes insolvent.[71] True, rights granted by fraudulent conveyance law may be less intrusive to third parties than those granted by security interest law because they only disrupt bad-faith transfers or too-good-to-be true transactions. But this is only a difference in degree rather than a unique function of either entities or security interests.

To the degree that security interests provide creditors a more dependable claim against third parties who come to possess the collateral, this is best thought of as a detail of our account rather than a competitor to it. Security interests create fixed priority schemes, in which managers are not permitted to lower the relative status of a creditor as to certain collateral. Just as managers may not impair the rights of a secured creditor by promising another creditor higher priority, managers may not impair them by selling the assets free of liens and encumbrances. The fact that security interests “follow” property into the hands of third parties is an entailment of fixed priority. A rule fixing creditor priority against subsequent creditors fixes it against purchasers, a fortiori.

Likewise, it is not surprising that the remedy against shifting assets in entities is usually less exacting than that for security interests. When the manager has discretion to update the pool of creditors, it is harder to define the scope of the assets, and therefore it is more difficult to determine which asset transfers are detrimental to creditors. Conversely, when the assets are well defined (as is more likely when creditors have fixed priority), it is efficient to give the secured creditors a direct claim to the assets without a legal process that examines the motivation behind the transfer of those assets.

D.  Governance Structure

Entities typically require the appointment of dedicated decisionmakers and prescribe the duties and powers of such decisionmakers.[72] For example, corporations must appoint a board, and the board has fiduciary duties to the owners. Nonetheless, it is fairly easy to opt out of these rules, even in a standard corporation.[73] Moreover, entities, such as the general partnership and the member-managed Limited Liability Company (“LLC”), do not even have default centralized management or detailed governance provisions.[74] Many financial structures exist in which entities are used as shells without any meaningful governance structure, and the management of assets within the entity is outsourced to an outside manager, for example, a mutual fund manager or a servicer of securitized loans.[75] Moreover, a security agreement could contractually provide for the appointment of a manager for the secured assets and specify the manager’s duties and responsibilities. Accordingly, governance provisions can be constructed without an entity.

That said, governance structure is understandably more likely in entities. Asset pools with floating priority require management with discretion to update the priority of the creditors. It makes sense to impose on those managers some default set of duties to play their part in good faith. Detailed governance rules are less important for administering assets whose creditors have fixed priority because no updating is required.

E.  Limited Liability

Limited liability protects owners from the contract and tort claimants of the enterprise.[76] It is the most commonly cited benefit conferred by the use of legal entities.[77] In contrast, secured creditors typically have recourse to the unsecured assets of the owner.[78]

Nevertheless, limited liability is an imperfect distinction. First, an owner can obtain most forms of limited liability by simply bargaining for a waiver or non-recourse provision from creditors.[79] Second, limited liability is far from universal in entities. General partnerships (and general partners of limited partnerships) lack it altogether. Guarantees by individual owners or parent corporations, which effectively nullify limited liability, are pervasive across industries.[80] Moreover, limited liability does not apply to owners who personally control the business or when the entity’s personnel act on the owner’s behalf.[81] Some entities have some advantage in limiting liability to involuntary creditors who have no contractual relationship with the owner.[82] However, firms that have very few tort creditors (such as financial firms) nonetheless make extensive use of subsidiaries.[83] Even in industrial companies where torts could matter,[84] companies operated for hundreds of years without limited liability.[85]

Though the functional distinction of entities relative to security interests cannot boil down to limited liability, our theory nevertheless helps explain why entities often provide limited liability and security interests do not. Security interest-defined pools typically do not have managers; an owner actively managing the assets of such a pool is unlikely to be shielded by limited liability. Moreover, owners of an entity benefit more from limited liability because they would otherwise be liable for some unauthorized actions taken by the separate managers of the assets, who due to floating priority, have discretion to undertake a wide range of potentially risky transactions.

F.  Legal Personality

Entity law confers separate legal personality on asset pools, which can then own assets in their own name, sue, and be sued. However, legal personality on its own does not serve a meaningful economic function. For example, legal personality allows Entity 1 to sue individuals who damage the Hawaii mall, but that same suit could have been brought by the owner if she owned the mall in her individual capacity (as in Figure 3).

Another variant of that argument is that the bankruptcy process cannot attach to asset pools without legal personality.[86] Bankruptcy is arguably unique in that it collectively settles the claims of all creditors of the entity.[87] However, there is an equivalent process that can be applied to security interests: receivership. A receiver appointed following a motion by secured creditors may take control of some or all of a debtor’s assets.[88] The priority of claims in a receivership proceeding is similar to that applied in bankruptcy.[89] Although unsecured creditors generally do not take an active role in the receivership, they may be parties to receiverships,[90] and the receiver must protect their interests.[91] Thus, the law provides security-based pools a functionally similar process to that which is based on legal personality.

While legal personhood cannot serve as the functional distinction, it nevertheless makes sense for entities to have personhood because personhood is often useful for asset pools with a dedicated management. It makes less sense to sue an asset pool in its own name if the manager is also the owner of that pool, as in a typical security interest partition. Likewise, there is little gained by letting an asset pool sue in its own name if it is managed by an owner who is already able to sue in her own name. On the other hand, it likely most efficient to allocate the power to sue in the name of assets to entities, as they typically have dedicated management that is best positioned to deploy and protect the assets.

G.  Bankruptcy Protection

Although entities and security interests perform the same asset partitioning role, it may be argued that entities have the additional advantage of bankruptcy protection.[92] If an entity’s owner becomes insolvent, the owner’s personal creditors cannot usually force bankruptcy or liquidation of the entity’s assets; at best, they can take the owner’s ownership interests over the entity. In entity structures like those in Figure 2, C2’s collateral is unaffected if the Hawaii mall goes bust. In contrast, the unsecured creditors of an owner can drag the secured assets into liquidation by filing for the bankruptcy of the owner. In Figure 3, C1 could force the owner into bankruptcy along with all her assets, such as the Oklahoma mall. So C2 must evaluate the financial health of the owner and the viability of the Hawaii mall, rather than just the Oklahoma mall.

Nonetheless, we believe that bankruptcy protection cannot serve as the distinction between security interests and entities. First, we believe that it is not accurate to say that entities provide bankruptcy protection.[93] Rather they provide what practitioners call “bankruptcy remoteness.”[94] Entities may make the risk more remote, but there are many circumstances under which one entity is drawn into another’s bankruptcy. For instance, the sale of the receivables might be recharacterized as a loan or a security interest, in which case the assets would not be protected from bankruptcy.[95] The bankruptcy process can be extended to include a set of entities that operate as a group under the doctrine of substantive consolidation.[96] In fact, most public corporations run their various businesses in a way that makes consolidation almost inevitable.[97] Even in a securitization, there is a risk that solvent entities will be impaired by a bankrupt owner. Indeed, this is what happened in the highly publicized In re General Growth Properties Inc. case,[98] on which our figures throughout the paper are based.[99] In that case, the court drew solvent entities (each owning different shopping malls) into the bankruptcy proceedings of their owner (a real estate investment company).[100] General Growth filed for bankruptcy along with a number of its special purpose entities (“SPEs”), some of which were still performing.[101]

Just as entities’ bankruptcy protection is not absolute, security interests’ protection is not trivial,[102] especially for financial transactions that can be structured to take advantage of foreign law.[103] Under English law before 2002, and even after 2002 for certain transactions, holders of a specific type of security interest called the floating charge have the right to effectively block the bankruptcy (called the “administration” in the U.K.) of a company.[104] Instead, the senior creditor may appoint an administrative receivership, under which the security is protected and payments continue even as junior creditors’ claims are addressed. These expansive rights protect one pool from liquidation despite the owners’ financial difficulties.

Covered bondsanother instrument widely used in Europeprovide significant bankruptcy protection without meaningful use of an entity.[105] Covered bonds are similar to secured bonds, granting the creditors priority over obligations that remain on the balance sheet of the issuer. However, covered bonds also enjoy bankruptcy remoteness from the issuer.[106] The other creditors of the issuing entity do not get to interrupt payments to the covered bond in the event of insolvency. Covered bonds achieve this bankruptcy remoteness by way of enabling statutes, rather than by relying primarily on entities.

Moreover, bankruptcy protection is material only when the bankruptcy process disrupts the pre-existing priorities to the asset pools. The bankruptcy process does not necessarily harm the interests of secured creditors. Typically, secured creditors must be paid in full before any unsecured creditors may be paid anything at all,[107] they may be compensated for disruptions due to the bankruptcy process,[108] and senior creditors exercise significant control over the bankruptcy process.[109] To the degree that bankruptcy is disruptive to asset partitioning, this may be a contingent feature of recent American law,[110] rather than an enduring feature.[111] Indeed, it is possible that what partly motivated the emergence of securitization transactions in the 1980s, as an alternative to standard secured lending, is the contraction of the rights of secured creditors in bankruptcy following the 1978 Act to the benefit of unsecured creditors.[112]

Finally, it is worth noting that not all entities offer bankruptcy protection, so the defining feature of an entity cannot be bankruptcy protection. Creditors of a bankrupt partner in a partnership have the power to force liquidation and winding-up (which is equivalent to a bankruptcy) of the partnership by foreclosing on the partner’s interest in the partnership.[113]

While bankruptcy protection does not prove an adequate basis to distinguish these bodies of law, it is somewhat easier to obtain it with entities than security interests. Why? Unlike the other candidate distinctions above, we believe that the policy reasons behind this are questionable.[114] We address this issue below in Part V.

IV.  Explaining the Structure of Financial Products

With the growth in financial innovation, segregating asset pools is a common objective of many financial products. We focus on three areas of financial innovation that have experienced substantial growth in recent decades: securitization, captive insurance, and mutual funds. The basic choice business planers face in creating these asset pools is whether to place them in separate entities or simply give creditors a security interest over these assets. These two options are depicted in Figures 7 and 8.

Figure 7.  Entity Partitioning

     

Figure 8.  Security Interest Partitioning

In essence, this choice is substantially the same as the choice faced by the owner in regards to her shopping malls as we discussed above in Figure 2 and Figure 3. The main difference is that with the professionalization and standardization of these products, the assets are often managed by a distinct management company and are not necessarily owned by the originator of the assets as in the case of the owner’s shopping malls. We have also removed the pictures (of malls) so that Figures 7 and 8 can better capture the common structure in numerous structures, from securitized operating companies to insurance to investment funds.

These areas all involve the use of numerous entities, largely as a form of security interest. The proliferation of entities in these products thus might seem to lend support to the view that entities serve the same function as security interests, and the two forms are functional substitutes.

However, as we show below, in all these financial products, the key structural element is actually a security interest or other law that essentially fixes the priority of the creditors. Without fixed priority, these products would not be viable. The main reason entities are typically used in these structures is because in the United States, security interests are not bankruptcy remote; much recent financial innovation reflects a frustration with this feature. In Part V, we will discuss how even more recent innovations such as protected cell regimes attempt to address this deficiency in security interests.

A.  Securitization

In a securitization, the sponsor corporation sets aside a pool of assets.[115] The company sells those assets to a newly formed special purpose entity (“SPE”).[116] The SPE raises the purchase money by issuing bonds commonly known as asset-backed securities (ABS, or MBS when the asset is a mortgage). Many companies use securitization as their principal mode of financing. We return here to the notable example of General Growth Properties. General Growth owned numerous SPEs, which held shopping malls financed by loans and bonds. Each SPE owned one shopping mall (or a group of them), and the parent entity essentially acted as a management company that specialized in securitizing the assets. The structure was described in Part I, Figure 2, and it is essentially the same structure depicted in Figure 7, except that the SPEs are not necessarily owned by the originator of the assets, but may be independent of it.[117]

The economic rationale for securitization is that the notes are supposed to be informationally insensitive, or safe,[118] so that the noteholders’ costs of evaluating and monitoring the assets are low. This is reflected in the nature of the assets, which are supposed to have predictable cash flows and homogenous risk. There is limited value in managerial discretion at the SPE level, as the SPE is not an operating company.

Securitization practitioners take many steps to ensure low evaluation costs and low managerial discretion. The SPE’s organizational documents and the terms of the notes limit the SPE’s activities to holding the assets and making payments on the notes; managers are not permitted to incur any other debt or pledge the assets to secure the debt of another firm.[119] In the case of General Growth, for example, each SPE held a shopping mall, but the SPE’s board had no discretion to buy more assets, or issue debt at its own discretion; rather, management is outsourced to a management company that simply collects the income and rents out the shops.[120]

However, as discussed above, these contractual provisions, including those set in the SPE’s organizational documents, are insufficient because they are not binding on third parties.[121] Thus, it is crucial for the bondholders to have a security interest in the receivables and, without exception, bondholders in all securitizations do receive a security interest in the assets. The security interest is typically held by an indenture trustee on behalf of the bondholders.[122] This ensures that the bondholders have a fixed priority to the assets. If the SPE issues more debt, that debt will be automatically subordinated to the claims of the original noteholders. If the bondholders had only floating priority with respect to the assets, the SPE would be able to add more creditors with equal priority to the noteholders.

If fixed priority is the goal, why use a special entity? It is not as though the entity is doing “real” work; the entire structure is intended to strip all operational control from the SPEs managers. Nor is it costless to use entities. Each entity has to satisfy the relevant securities regulations, including the filing of a separate prospectus.[123] Parties are willing to bear these costs because entities are “bankruptcy remote.”[124] Bankruptcy remoteness, like fixed priority, is important for creating informationally insensitive notes, and empirical evidence suggests that it is priced into the value of the notes on the market.[125] When the same company manages many different securitization vehicles, the bondholders in one issuance (represented by C1 in Figure 7 and Figure 8) must ensure that the bondholders in the other issuances (i.e. C2) will not be able to drag the pledged assets (i.e. A1) into the bankruptcy of the management company. Because each pool of assets is held by a separate entity, there is less likelihood that it will be included in the bankruptcy of the management company.[126]

If security interests in the United States were bankruptcy remote, there would be no reason to use entities in this process.[127] In this case, the informational efficiencies could be achieved with mere security interests, as in Figure 8. In fact, a type of securitization called whole business securitizations, which is common in England, achieves bankruptcy remoteness without meaningful use of an entity. Rather, it relies on a form of security interest known as the floating charge, which enjoys bankruptcy protection.[128] In this type of securitization, the securitized assets are not transferred to a bankruptcy-remote SPE, but stay with the company.[129] The bondholders are protected from the bankruptcy of the sponsor corporation because due to the floating charge, they indirectly have the right to appoint an administrative receiver and take control of the assets if an unsecured creditor or the company applies for administration (the English equivalent for bankruptcy).[130] The administrative receivership procedure is designed to ensure that the securitized assets continue to operate for the benefit of the creditors, even if the business becomes bankrupt.

There are other examples of security interests thriving with bankruptcy protection, even without an essential link to entities. “Covered bonds” have been much touted as a safer alternative to securitization.[131] Covered bonds are widespread in Europe,[132] and they amount to secured bonds except that they possess appreciable protection from the bankruptcy of the issuer.[133] For financial institutions, this protection is granted by legislative fiat.[134] With this protection, entities are not crucial to the asset partitioning effort. However, statutory covered bonds are usually only issued by financial institutions. When issued by other companies, they face the same obstacles as we described in Part II and make use of entities for the same reasons.

This demonstrates that a security interest that has fixed priority and bankruptcy remoteness could in theory obviate the need for entity-based asset partitioning in securitizations. The fact that entities are substantially absent when security interests suffice further supports the claim that entities are being used only incidentally, as part of a strategy to ensure that fixed priority is maintained in the event of a bankruptcy.

B.  Captive Insurance

Captive insurance is a form of self-insurance, whereby a firm sets aside reserves in order to pre-fund a specific risk, such as product liability, professional liability, or health insurance.[135] Self-insurance is typically used when a firm has homogeneous risk exposures, such that its aggregate, expected losses are reasonably stable and predictable. It is generally cheaper than standard insurance, mainly because the insurance can be better tailored to the needs of the insured, as opposed to standard insurance that reflects industry risk.[136]

In theory, firms can self-insure simply by saving up a reserve fund, but without creating a separate pool of assets. However, when the funds remain under the discretion of the insureds, potential claimants and regulators will not view the reserve as being credibly committed to funding the identified risk.[137] One way to improve the credibility of self-insurance is to form captive insurance companies. The insured firm will set up a separate entity-subsidiary (a “captive”) with capital from the insured. This capital, along with the insurance premium, is used to satisfy potential claims.[138] The management of the subsidiary-entity is contracted out to an insurance management company, which manages many of these entities on behalf of the insureds.

This structure is basically the same as that depicted in Figure 7, in that the assets pledged to the creditorsthat is, the insuredsare placed in separate entities. Similar to securitizations, the assets that the management company manages are partitioned such that each creditorthat is, the insuredhas a priority in his reserve funds over other creditors of the insurance management company.

But, as in securitizations, the use of entities just to partition the assets is not sufficient. One problem with a purely entity-based approach is that entities create floating priority, but insurance customers need fixed priority. There is little value here to managerial discretion since the insured just wants the money safely held for a rainy day, rather than deployed to seek business opportunities. Nor do captive insurance creditors wish to incur any costs in monitoring the use of the assets by the captive insurance company.

To create this fixed priority, the insured needs to have a security interest in the assets of the captive insurance entity, which gives the insured priority over those assets.[139] Moreover, each of the captive entities must be a licensed insurance company, which is typically subject to numerous regulatory restrictions on its ability to incur any indebtedness. For example, under Delaware captive insurance regulation, the captive company is not permitted to incur material debts, make material loans or extensions of credit without regulatory approval, or enter into major transactions without regulatory approval.[140] These limitations, together with a security interest, would appear to fix the priority of the insured to the assets of the captive entity.

But again, if security interests and regulatory restrictions already achieve fixed priority, why do we need entities? For example, the insurance management company could simply own each reserve account on behalf of the insureds and each insured would have a security interest in its account (see Figure 8). In fact, some captive insurance companies have used this structure in order to avoid obtaining a separate insurance license for each entity.

However, without entities, the captive might not be adequately protected from the bankruptcy of the insurance management company. In particular, there would be a risk that claims by other insureds could render the management company insolvent and effect the liquidation of all the captives.[141] The fact that the management company promised C1 priority recourse against A1 (the contents of its cell) is not necessarily binding on C2, or any other creditors of the management company.

Insurance management companies have tried to avoid the costs of setting up separate entities to save the fees for insurance licenses while overcoming the limitations on a security interest approach by creating “rental captives.”[142] In rental captives, the management company issues each insured non-voting preference shares, and the proceeds of the issue are allocated to a specific account, which is also known as a “contractual cell.” Under the insurance policy, the insured is limited to claiming only from the segregated funds in the relevant account. The insured also has a security interest over his account.[143] Moreover, the insured as a preference shareholder in the insurance company enters into a shareholder agreement that (1) specifically limits claims to its respective fund, (2) states that the insured will have no recourse to any other company assets or the funds of other insureds, and (3) provides that such limitations also apply in the liquidation of the captive insurance company.[144]

Through this contractual arrangement, insurance management companies effectively tried to create bankruptcy remoteness without entities. However, this structure faces the same challenges we described in Part II. It essentially requires monitoring by each insured to make sure that the insurance company enters into similar arrangements with all other insuredsotherwise the other insureds could potentially file for the bankruptcy of the company or make claims to assets outside their segregated accounts. Moreover, there remains uncertainty whether in a bankruptcy of the insurance company, the bankruptcy court would respect the security interests of each insured and the relevant contractual limitations.

As in the case of securitizations, security interests with bankruptcy remoteness would make entities redundant in this structure. In fact, as we discuss in Part V, the contractual cells served as the basis for protected cell legislation, which largely addressed the deficiencies of the contractual approach, and provided effective bankruptcy remoteness to the cells.

C.  Mutual Funds

Mutual funds are pools of investment securities that issue only redeemable common stock, which is sold widely to the public and is composed entirely of debt or minority equity holdings in many companies. A unique feature of mutual funds is that the shareholders in these funds cannot sell their shares, but they can always redeem their shares for cash equal to their pro rata share of the net asset value of the fund.[145] Mutual funds must register with the SEC and are regulated by the Investment Companies Act of 1940 (“ICA”).[146] We will focus on open-ended funds, the most common type of mutual funds. The typical structure is for each fund to be formed as an entity, as in Figure 8. The management of all these entities is outsourced to a separate fund management company that manages the investments made by many funds, as with securitizations and captive insurance.[147]

Previous literature has emphasized the use of entities for creating mutual funds.[148] However, the organization and regulation of mutual funds effectively creates fixed priority. The ICA prescribes that such funds can only issue common shares and not senior debt securities, and that they can only take out loans from banks if the ratio of net assets to bank-loan principal is equal to or exceeds 3:1.[149] Thus, although mutual funds can take on some debt, the only true creditors of the funds are essentially its equity investors, and they are for the most part the only claimants on the fund’s assets. These investors have the same prioritythat is, they each have a claim on their pro rata share. The fund cannot issue any other shares that rank higher to them. In fact, the fund cannot issue shares that rank equally to the current investors in their pro rata share. If the fund issues new shares, the new investor has to contribute additional funds, as each investor maintains his or her claim to his or her share of the net asset value of the fund.[150]

The explanation for creating this fixed priority is essentially to lower the evaluation costs for the investors.[151] As is well known, most households now hold a substantial portion of their assets in mutual funds. These investors tend to be very passive and rarely, if ever, engage in any active monitoring or lawsuits.[152] If the fund is underperforming, these investors often just exit by redeeming their shares and possibly buy shares in another fund. If mutual funds had floating priority by allowing the managers to freely issue debt instruments, the investors would need to monitor more carefully, because such issuances would have priority over common equity, and shareholders would be at a risk of losing their pro rata share of the net asset value.

If investors want fixed priority, then why conjure up an entity for each investment fund? The management company could in principle hold all the securities in the name of a single entity, give the investors in each fund a security interest,[153] and require investors to enter into a contract that segregates the assets of each fund.[154] This structure, which is essentially the one depicted in Figure 8, would have the benefit of saving the transaction costs of setting up new entities, including duplication and expense resulting from multiple boards, contracts with service providers, and regulatory filings.[155]

The main purpose for using entities to form funds is bankruptcy remoteness.[156] Each funds investors need to be assured that their fund will not be affected by the claims of other funds investors and other creditors of the fund managers. As with captive insurance, it may in theory be possible to require the investors to enter into a multi-lateral contract, whereby each agrees to limit the liability of the management company to the assets in the relevant fund account. But again, there is no guarantee that the security interest and contract would be respected in a bankruptcy of the management company. Furthermore, the investors in each fund would always need to be alert to the creation of additional funds by the manager and get assurance that the new funds are subject to the same limitations on liability. Accordingly, without security interests that have bankruptcy remoteness, it is much easier to use entities to create mutual funds.

V.  The Evolution of New Legal Forms

The purpose of many financial products is effectively to give fixed priority to a group of creditors. Security interests provide fixed priority, but they must be alloyed with entities because security interests do not adequately protect pools from the owner’s bankruptcy. If security interests developed to allow bankruptcy remoteness, they could supplant the role that entities play in these structures. In fact, recent legal innovations appear to be specifically designed to address this void.

Although there has been significant academic focus on the evolution of entity law,[157] the evolution of novel security interests has been largely overlooked. These forms evolved primarily from the late 1990s in off-shore jurisdictions, but they have also been adopted in many U.S. states, including Delaware.[158] The key feature of these forms is that they allow certain entities to subdivide their assets, pledging individual pools of assets to individual creditors. These forms first appeared as a solution to the high costs of setting up entities for captive insurance purposes, which also include the fees for insurance licenses for each captive entity.[159] But they have been increasingly used to set up mutual funds, securitization products, and even real estate firms.

These entities are often called protected cell companies and the individual pools are often called cells or protected cells, although some jurisdictions use other names, such as segregated portfolio companies and segregated portfolios, respectively.[160] In the US, business planners may also use the series trust and series LLC, which allow these entities to form separate asset pools called series. Figure 9 shows the structure of entities that have the power to create these instruments. The entity itself may be a protected cell company or a series LLC. The assets are placed in the cells or the series, and they are pledged for the benefit of specific creditors, just like in the case of entities and security interests. For convenience, we will refer to all types of such asset pools as cells, but our claims will also apply to other types, such as the series or segregated portfolios.

Figure 9.  Protected Cell Partitioning

 

The asset pools within the entity (the cells) exhibit properties of both bodies of asset partitioning law. Like entities, they do not require creditors to define the assets in the pool or file a financing statement (in other words, the assets are floating), and they usually limit the liability of creditors to the assets of the cell. On the other hand, similar to security interests, they do not have a dedicated management or elaborate governance rules (other than those that regulate the asset segregation), and with few exceptions, they do not have separate legal personality.

Nonetheless, most of these legal forms are better viewed as security interests, because managers for most of these legal forms lack the ability to update creditor priority within each cell, and hence the cells exhibit fixed priority. Many of these forms are limited to specific uses for either captive insurance, investment funds, or securitizations. As such, they are subject to legal mandates, including industry-specific regulations that limit managerial discretion to alter creditor priority. These regulations also provide cells with a much greater degree of bankruptcy remoteness than standard security interests, because the creditors of the cells usually have no recourse to any others cells, including in the event that the company as a whole becomes bankrupt. In this way, they address the deficiencies associated with security interests that make them inadequate for the key financial products described above.

We describe three examples, one for each of the three financial products discussed in Part IV. Consider first the protected cells regimes, of which Delaware’s can serve as an example. Its cell regime is limited to captive insurance companies.[161] The law clearly provides that “[t]he assets of a protected cell shall not be chargeable with liabilities of any other protected cell or . . . of the sponsored captive insurance company generally[,]” unless stipulated in the participation agreement.[162] The priority of creditors of each cell is also fixed. The reason is that protected cell companies are not permitted to incur material debts, and the cells are subject to the same restrictions on indebtedness as the captive insurance companies themselves.[163] Furthermore, the liability of each participant insured by a captive insurance company is limited to its share in the assets of a protected cell,[164] and participants may not be added without permission from the regulator.[165] Moreover, the captive insurance company is not permitted to transfer any assets of a protected cell without the participants’ consent or regulatory approvals.[166]

In this way, the law effectively makes the cells bankruptcy remote. To be sure, there is formally no bankruptcy protection in the sense that if the company itself is liquidated or rehabilitated, presumably the cells will be as well. However, captive insurance companies have largely no material creditors, and each of the insured as creditors of cells only have recourse to the cells themselves.[167] Thus, it is difficult to envisage a situation where the default of one cell could lead to the default of the company and the other cells. Moreover, protected cells may be subject to their own liquidation proceedings without impairing the other cells.[168] Finally, if the protected cell company itself is in default and is being liquidated, [t]he assets of a protected cell may not be used to pay any expenses or claims other than those attributable to such protected cell.[169] Accordingly, even if the company is liquidated, the cells are protected from the liabilities of the protected cell company, and thus the rights of each cells’ creditors are unlikely to be jeopardized.

Protected cells are increasingly used to structure investment funds as umbrella funds.[170] In the U.K. version of umbrella fund legislation, protected cells are specifically designed to form open-ended mutual funds under the OpenEnded Investment Companies Regulations. Each cell may constitute a separate sub-fund, and the sub-funds are subject to the same regulations as funds.[171] Under the regulations, “the assets of a sub-fund belong exclusively to that sub-fund and shall not be used to discharge the liabilities of or claims against the umbrella company or any other person or body, or any other sub-fund, and shall not be available for any such purpose . . . .”[172] The regulation further mandates that the liabilities of a particular sub-fund can be paid only out of the assets of that sub-fund[173] and declares all contrary provisions void.[174]

The priority of each cell is again fixed under the regulations, which subject each fund and sub-fund to restrictions on indebtedness and prescribe the rights of investors to the fund’s assets. Specifically, the funds may only borrow on a temporary basis (defined generally as under three months),[175] and such borrowing may never exceed 10 percent of the value of the funds property.[176] Moreover, fund investors are entitled to a proportionate share of the net asset value of the underlying assets when they decide to redeem their shares.[177]

As mentioned above, the cells enjoy substantial bankruptcy remoteness. Given the strict limitation on liabilities, it is hard to envision a realistic situation in which the creditors of each cell could file for the winding-up of the company, because their claims are limited to the cell and the non-cellular assets are subject to substantial limitations on indebtedness. Moreover, each sub-fund can be wound up without impacting the umbrella company.[178]

Lastly, Luxembourg as well as other jurisdictions has established a regime for the formation of securitization funds managed by a management company.[179] Each securitization fund is supposed to serve as a vehicle for securitizing separate pools of assets. The rules for such funds, including those regarding the rights and obligations of the management, must be laid out in the management regulations of the fund,[180] and these management regulations must be filed with the trade and company registry.[181] The securitization fund is liable only for obligations imposed or contracted for under its management regulations.[182] The fund is not liable for the obligations of the management company or its investors.[183] Securitization funds may further be subdivided into separate pools called compartments, and separate management regulations may apply to each compartment.[184] Neither creditors of the management company nor the investors have rights of recourse against assets in the securitization fund.[185] The statute further requires that funds write into their management regulations “the circumstances in which the fund or one of its compartments will be in, or may be put into, liquidation.[186] This makes it possible to provide for the separate liquidation of each securitization fund without risking the liquidation of the management company,[187] and in fact, regulators have treated this structure as if it guarantees the bankruptcy remoteness of the funds.[188]

Although the above forms are essentially security interests with greater bankruptcy remoteness, we do not believe that all new forms should be understood the same way. Others appear to be new forms of entities. An important example is the series LLC, which is an LLC that can partition its assets and liabilities among distinct series.[189]

Unlike the forms described above, the series LLC is not limited to specific purposes, such as captive insurance and securitizations. The LLC operating agreement may provide classes of members and managers with different rights and duties.[190] Each series may have a different business purpose and different rights, powers, and duties with respect to the assets held in each series.[191] The assets of each series appear to be segregated in much the same way as those in protected cells,[192] and they likewise seem to be bankruptcy remote.[193] In particular, the series in principle have floating priority because the manager of the LLC has discretion to update the priority of the creditors of each series.

The series LLC is therefore much like an entity. Although one might think that the series LLC may be popular as a way to economize the costs of forming many LLCs, it does not appear to be widely used.[194] The reason is likely that investors have little appetite for yet another enterprise with floating priority. As we explained in Section II.C, floating priority entails high costs of investigation and monitoring, which likely outweigh the costs of forming a new entity. Thus, the series has little advantage over the parent entity (that is, the LLC) that created the series. By contrast, cellular structures with fixed priority are widely used in securitization, captive insurance, and investment funds, suggesting great appetite for innovation based on the core element of a security interest.

The forgoing has attempted to shed light on the purpose and nature of novel business forms, without dwelling on the nature of legal personality. Although it is tempting to deduce that a legal form is an entity because it has legal personality (or that it is not an entity because it lacks personality), such inferences are not helpful in illuminating the function of legal forms. This is in part because legal personality is not consistently and rationally organized in the statutes creating novel forms. For example, most laws state that such cells do not have legal personality, but others do, and some are silent on the point.[195] Legislatures’ decisions about whether to allocate legal personality to each pool of assets seem to be largely arbitrary and unrelated to the specific attributes of the legal form. This further reinforces the claim we made in Section III.F that legal personality cannot serve as a distinguishing principle between entities and security interests. It also highlights the importance of functional analysis for legal policy, as we discuss in the following Part.

VI.  Policy Implications

A.  Judicial Treatment of the New Legal Forms

Courts are increasingly confronted with complicated questions involving novel business forms. Without functional criteria to guide them, judicial decisions are likely to be formalistic or arbitrary. Early cases tended to fixate on the legal personality, rather than the economic objectives of the legal forms chosen by the parties who set up the relevant enterprise. In particular, courts have undermined the asset partitioning of cell structures based on the notion that they lack legal personality. In doing so, they frustrate the very purpose of these forms, which is to establish fixed priority combined with bankruptcy remoteness. By recognizing fixed and floating priority as the critical choices parties make, our account can help guide courts with these difficult determinations.

Consider one of the only American cases addressing the treatment of cells.[196] Pac Re, a Protected Cell Company (PCC), agreed on behalf of one of its cells (5-AT) to reinsure AmTrust. When an insurance claim was made, Pac Re argued that only the relevant cell was liable. AmTrust disagreed and compelled arbitration for recourse to all of Pac Re’s assets.[197] “The result of the arbitration is that Pac Re, not just its 5-AT captive cell, must pay AmTrust a whole lot of money.”[198] Why?

AmTrust’s victory was not compelled by clear statutory language: the insurance statute was unclear about whether creditors of a protected cell could proceed against the PCC,[199] though it was explicit that individual cells were not liable for the debts of the PCC or other cells.[200] The contract was likewise unclear about whether the cell’s debts could be satisfied from the PCC’s assets.[201] Ultimately, a federal district court concluded that the PCC was not liable for the debts of its cell.[202] However, the court still sent Pac Re to arbitration because the contract compelled arbitration for some person, and Pac Re was the only legal person around; the cell had no legal personality separate from the PCC.[203] Once Pac Re was before the tribunal, the arbitrators reinstated liability and required it to pay out almost $8 million on behalf of Cell 5-AT.[204]

It seems unlikely that this result is what commercial parties would have wanted. Parties use cells in order to isolate a pool of assets from all other debts and assets. Historically, parties did this by forming a separate entity but moved to cells in order to economize on the administrative and regulatory costs of forming entities. Pac Re seemingly gives cell-based captives less effective asset partitioning than entity-based captives. In the aftermath of the decision, credit rating agency Fitch noted that full recourse “could potentially cause disruption or financial stress for the protected cells in that PCC”[205] because the creditworthiness of all cells within the PCC became central to the status of the cell.

The business model of captive insurance is based on the fixed priority each insured has to each cell. Each insurance customer seeks to avoid the risk that new claimants might arise as peer or superior in status.[206] If the creditors of one cell can potentially levy on the assets of other cells in the group, then the customers of other cells must worry about the promises the insurance management company makes.

Pac Re potentially converts other cells’ fixed priority to floating priority by rejecting Pac Re’s statutory and functionalist argument. The court instead waxed jurisprudential about the nature of legal personhood and found that Pac Re rather than Cell 5-AT was the appropriate defendant in the lawsuit.[207] More troublingly, however, the court appears to suggest that legal personhood is dispositive of whether the segregation of the cells’ assets should be respected: “[T]hat a protected cell should be segregated and isolated from the core and any other protected cells in the PCC misses the mark in this lawsuit because a protected cell is not a separate legal person.”[208]

Legal personality is an inadequate lynchpin for this kind of decision in a world in which entity-like functions are frequently exercised by forms whose personhood is unclear.[209] The question of who should be named in a lawsuitan assets pool’s owner, its manager, or the pool itselfis analytically separate from the question of what assets are available to satisfy claims. Courts must be mindful of parties’ asset partitioning choices and the priority structures they adopt. Determining the permeability of these partitions on the basis of legal personality or other beside-the-point criteria is misguided.

B.  Bankruptcy Remoteness for Security Interests

We have shown that there is substantial appetite for fixed priorities with bankruptcy remoteness. The law has long permitted this arrangement, but it has generally required the use of two instruments: a security interest and an entity. This is reflected in the structure of the financial products we discussed in Part IV. With more respect for the security interests the entities would be superfluous in such structures.

The law would be improved if it respected the bankruptcy remoteness of security interests in such contexts without requiring the interposition of an entity. Any time that parties are capable of establishing fixed priority and bankruptcy remoteness, there should be an option for them to achieve that effect without actually forming an entity. As long as all creditors have proper notice of the asset partitions, there is little need to require parties to form a separate entity.[210] Specifically, this means that non-recourse secured claims on assets would be respected in bankruptcy to the same degree that non-recourse claims on a subsidiary (or a SPE) that contains the asset would be respected.[211]

At minimum, this reform would have the modest effect of saving the transaction costs of creating new entities. These costs are not trivial when business planners pledge numerous asset pools to numerous creditors, in circumstances where creditors seek safe assets that are easy to evaluate, and the value of managerial discretion is low. It is also possible that such a reform would have more wide-reaching beneficial effects. In particular, a growing number of businesses consist of numerous entities.[212] Thus, our proposal could in principle reduce organizational complexity by making entities redundant for some financial products.[213] It is also possible that pooling assets within security interests would further mitigate wrongful asset-shifting.[214]

How should this reform be effected? One way to do this is by identifying specific structures or transactions which would benefit from the combination of fixed priority and bankruptcy remoteness. This is essentially the approach of specialized legislation for captives, mutual funds, and securitizations. Another option is to create a set of general conditions, potentially applicable to any security interest. For example, a statutory safe harbor could be introduced for any non-recourse security interests;[215] qualifying secured claims would enjoy substantial protectionssuch as release from bankruptcy’s automatic stay[216] and exemption from the collection efforts of unsecured creditors[217]which would have arisen through entity-based financing.

The latter proposal raises the concern that permitting secured parties to opt for greater bankruptcy protection would transfer wealth away from non-adjusting creditors, such as tort victims, and accordingly drive firms to create and externalize too much risk. There is a rich debate on the costs and benefits of a regime that privileges one group of creditors above another, and we do not intend to settle it in this paper.[218] However, our proposal is limited to contexts where entity-based bankruptcy remoteness is already feasible. Whether such protections are efficient or not, it is of little importance whether the means is a security interest or an entity.

Should we go even further and allocate bankruptcy remoteness to all security interests? That is, even security interests that retain the creditor’s deficiency claims to the other assets of the owner? Doing so would amount to a major change in bankruptcy policy, given that most assets entering into bankruptcy are subject to secured claims.[219] Here too, there is extensive literature debating whether parties should be able to opt out of bankruptcy or customize its terms.[220] So far, the trend has been in the opposite direction,[221] but new technologies raise new questions. As we show in the next Part, even if these new technologies do not result in a contractarian bankruptcy system, they may increase quantity and variety of property-like law in commercial life.

VII.  Enduring Legal and Technological Innovations

One question for future research is how enduring this distinction will be. Do future innovations in business form threaten it? Blockchain infrastructure is a means of witnessing and recording transactions on “distributed, open and unalterable ledgers.”[222] This technology facilitates “smart contracts,” which are computer scripts that execute transactions, such as mutual promises between contracting parties, now and in the future.[223] Blockchain technology records transactions and makes those records publicly available to those with access to the blockchain network. Because of this widespread notification, privately created contracts bind third parties who are members of the network.[224] In so doing, blockchain technology essentially blurs the distinction between contract law and property law because it facilitates instruments that can be highly customized yet resilient against third-party claims.[225]

How might blockchain technology and the collapse of the contract/property divide affect the distinction between entities and security interests? Blockchain technology might substitute for security interests because it can create fixed priorities to specific assets that bind third parties.[226] Blockchain technology might also substitute for legal entities because it can allow an owner to designate a set of assets for the benefit of certain creditors, while reserving in the smart contract the right to update creditor priority as time goes on.[227]

While it is difficult to predict the future, we think that modern innovations will not undermine the priority-based distinction. The property-like functions in blockchain systems will still come in floating and fixed priority variants. Parties will stipulate whether they want a given creditor’s claim on a pool to be utterly certain or to be subject to demotion in order to accommodate later creditors. This choice is the essential choice between security interest and entity, and parties will tailor their blockchain commitments in ways that reflect that fundamental choice.

Their choice will reflect the same considerations we identified: evaluation costs and the value of management. Where parties want to lower their evaluation costs, they will select smart contractual commitments with fixed priority in the assets, which the owner cannot override. Other parties will bargain to give the owner more flexibility to pledge the asset to other creditors and update the priority scheme over time.[228] This arrangement will make more sense when the owner’s freedom is likely to support efficient uses of the assets.

New commercial technology may challenge many familiar concepts, including the orthodox division between contract law and property law. Nevertheless, we speculate that the species of entity and security interest will survive long after the genus of property has dissolved.

Conclusion

Recent years have witnessed a Cambrian explosion in the variety of business forms. The financial crisis of 2007 familiarized most Americans with the words “securitization” and “special purpose entity.” Mutual funds have become a dominant force in capital markets, and exotic insurance products are becoming part of mainstream business. The menu of legal forms has evolved to allow maximum flexibility in partitioning assets. The most advanced permutation in this process is the introduction of novel forms, such as Protected Cell Companies, Segregated Portfolios, Series LLCs, and a myriad of other instruments. After many decades of simplicity, why an explosion of complexity?

We argue that this trend is largely driven by an appetite for fixed priority. Security interests provide this function and entities do not. The rise of financial products like securitization, long associated with entities (such as the “special purpose entity”), is best understood as demand for security interests. The security interests that underlie these products are designed to minimize the costs of evaluating the assets. Most forms of security interests, however, face some difficulty avoiding costly bankruptcy, whereas entities tend to enjoy greater bankruptcy remoteness. Because the lack of bankruptcy remoteness may destroy fixed priority in the event of a bankruptcy, sophisticated parties have found ways to buttress their structures with the supplemental use of entities and, recently, by utilizing legal instruments that purport to provide the fixed claims of security interests alongside bankruptcy remoteness.

Incidentally, our theory also reinforces the view of entities as not just mere interests in assets. Ultimately, entities require some managerial discretion to update the priorities of the creditors (though not necessarily a dedicated or centralized manager). The benefit of maintaining such discretion is to allow the firm flexibility in raising funds for productive activity. Creditors lend to entities when they wish to rely on managed going concerns, whereas creditors who seek to minimize the costs of evaluation require a security interest to minimize managerial discretion to update their priority. Our theory also helps explain the proliferation of these new legal forms: they are not just opportunities to arbitrage insurance regulation, nor are they the inevitable consequence of a commitment to private ordering among chartering jurisdictions. Instead, they are efforts to maintain security interests’ fixed priority without necessarily accepting all of the terms (and bankruptcy costs) associated with security interests. This understanding can inform courts as they evaluate cases by identifying the parties’ objectives, and it can help legislatures support optimal private ordering. In particular, we argue that when courts allocate priorities among creditors, they should base their decisions on the priorities prescribed by the relevant law, rather than entity status.

Furthermore, we show that there may be reasons to allow non-recourse security interests the benefit of bankruptcy remoteness, even without the fiction of a new legal person.

Finally, our proposed distinction is enduring. Even as new contracting technologies are inventedsuch as smart contracts and blockchainand even as bankruptcy laws evolve, parties will still have different appetites for fixed and floating priority.

 

 


[*] *. Ofer Eldar is Associate Professor of Law, Duke University School of Law. Andrew Verstein is Associate Professor of Law, Wake Forest University School of Law. For comments and helpful conversations, we are grateful to Anthony Casey, Deborah Demott, Elisabeth De Fontenay, Russell Gold, Mike Green, Ezra Friedman, Mitu Gulati, Henry Hansmann, Raina Haque, Omer Kimhi, Kim Krawiec, Lynn M. LoPucki, John Morley, Barak Richman, Michael Simkovic, Richard Squire, Steven Schwarcz, Ron Wright, and participants at the faculty workshop at Duke University School of Law, Northwestern University’s Soshnick Colloquium, and the Wake Forest Faculty Development Lunch.

 [1]. See Gary Gorton & Andrew Metrick, Securitization, in 2A Handbook of the Economics of Finance: Corporate Finance 1, 1–70 (George M. Constantinides, Milton Harris & René M. Stulz eds., 2013); Steven L. Schwarcz, The Alchemy of Asset Securitization, 1 Stan. J.L. Bus. & Fin. 133, 135 (1994).

 [2]. Other securitization vehicles include collateralized loan obligations (“CLOs”) and collateralized debt obligations (“CDOs”). Both of these forms carve up loans into tranches of securities with different levels of risk. See Christopher Whittall, Hunt for Yield Fuels Boom in Another Complex, Risky Security, Wall St. J. (Oct. 22, 2017, 6:16 PM), https://www.wsj.com/articles/hunt-for-yield-fuels-boom-in-clos-1508673601 (stating that collateralized loan obligations accounted for $247 billion in the first nine months of 2017); Experts Explain: What Is a CDO?, Wall St. J.: Video (July 25, 2011, 12:26 PM), https://on.wsj.com/2zT30XV.

 [3]. See infra Section IV.C.

 [4]. See infra Section IV.B.

 [5]. See, e.g., Ralph S.J. Koijen & Motohiro Yogo, Shadow Insurance, 84 Econometrica 1265, 1265 (2016) (finding that shadow reinsurance grew to $364 billion in 2012); Morgan Stanley, An Overview of Global Securitized Markets (2018), https://www.morganstanley.com/im/publication
/insights/investment-insights/ii_anoverviewoftheglobalsecuritizedmarkets_us.pdf (reporting that in 2018 the global securitization market totaled $10.4 trillion); Total Net Assets of U.S.-Registered Mutual Funds Worldwide from 1998 to 2017, Statista, https://www.statista.com/statistics/255518/mutual-fund-assets-held-by-investment-companies-in-the-united-states (last visited Jan. 28, 2019) (reporting that in 2017, mutual funds held $18.75 trillion).

 [6]. See Jonathan R. Macey, Corporate Governance: Promises Kept, Promises Broken 22 (2008); Michael C. Jensen & William H. Meckling, Theory of the Firm: Managerial Behavior, Agency Costs and Ownership Structure, 3 J. Fin. Econ. 305, 310–11 (1976).

 [7].               Frank H. Easterbrook & Daniel R. Fischel, The Economic Structure of Corporate Law 15 (1991).                           

 [8]. Margaret M. Blair, Corporate Personhood and the Corporate Persona, 2013 U. Ill. L. Rev. 785, 796 (2013); Anthony J. Casey, The New Corporate Web: Tailored Entity Partitions and Creditors’ Selective Enforcement, 124 Yale L.J. 2680, 2680 (2015); Henry Hansmann & Reinier Kraakman, The Essential Role of Organizational Law, 110 Yale L.J. 387, 390 (2000) [hereinafter Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role]; Henry Hansmann, Renier Kraakman & Richard Squire, Law and the Rise of the Firm, 119 Harv. L. Rev. 1333, 1340 (2005) [hereinafter Hansmann et al., Law and the Rise of the Firm]; Edward M. Iacobucci & George G. Triantis, Economic and Legal Boundaries of Firms, 93 Va. L. Rev. 515, 517 (2007); Ron Harris & Asher Meir, Non-Recourse Mortgages – A Fresh Start, 21 Am. Bankr. Inst. L. Rev. 119, 137 n. 91 (2013); Paul G. Mahoney, Contract or Concession? An Essay on the History of Corporate Law, 34 Ga. L. Rev. 873, 876 (2000); Henry E. Smith, Intellectual Property as Property: Delineating Entitlements in Information, 116 Yale L.J. 1742, 1759 (2007); Richard Squire, The Case for Symmetry in Creditors’ Rights, 118 Yale L.J. 806, 808 (2009).

 [9]. Property rights are said to be enforceable “against the world,” whereas contract rights are enforceable only against parties to the contract or, in some cases, on notice of it. See Thomas W. Merrill & Henry E. Smith, The Property/Contract Interface, 101 Colum. L. Rev. 773, 780–89 (2001).

 [10]. See infra Part I.

 [11]. See Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 417 (acknowledging that security interests “offer a potential substitute” for entities’ priority of claims); George G. Triantis, Organizations as Internal Capital Markets: The Legal Boundaries of Firms, Collateral, and Trusts in Commercial and Charitable Enterprises, 117 Harv. L. Rev. 1102, 1138 (2004) (“Like corporations, security interests . . . can achieve the monitoring-specialization economies highlighted in the Hansmann-Kraakman hypothesis. Indeed, these monitoring efficiencies served for some time as the leading academic justification for the priority rights of secured credit.” (footnote omitted)).

 [12]. See Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 423 (“It is possible that the law of security interests will continue to evolve . . . . If so, the line between organizational law and the law of secured interests may become quite indistinct . . . .”); Triantis, supra note 11, at 1119 (“It leaves to later work the intriguing task of comparing the efficiency of various mechanisms and describing the conditions under which, for example, a project should be financed by secured credit rather than as a separate corporate entity under project finance.”).

 [13]. See infra Part V.

 [14]. We are not the first to notice that security interests permit fixed creditor priority. See, e.g., Randal C. Picker, Security Interests, Misbehavior, and Common Pools, 59 U. Chi. L. Rev. 645, 650 (1992). However, we are the first to identify fixed creditor priority as the essential function that distinguishes security interest law from entity law and to draw out its vital contribution to certain economic transactions.

 [15]. See, e.g., Republic Nat’l of Dall. v. Fitzgerald (In re E.A. Fretz Co.), 565 F.2d 366, 369 (5th Cir. 1978); infra text accompanying note 50.

 [16]. By evaluating assets, we mean to encompass both the costs of appraising the assets and the costs of monitoring the debtor’s use of the assets. See infra Section II.C.

 [17]. Although we argue for a unique essential role for each domain, and therefore a single essential distinction, we do not believe that either body of law plays only a single role. See Ronald J. Mann, Explaining the Pattern of Secured Credit, 110 Harv. L. Rev. 625, 633 (1997). In fact, both provide a mixture of mandatory and default terms. Although we argue that most are not essential to the bodies of law and could be obtained through alternative means, parties may well find security interests or entities to be a salient or convenient path.

 [18]. That is, placing the assets within a special purpose entity (“SPE”) reduces the possibility that the sponsor corporation’s bankruptcy will affect the SPE’s creditors and claims. See Gorton & Metrick, supra note 1, at 9; Schwarcz, supra note 1, at 35. See generally Kenneth M. Ayotte & Stav Gaon, Asset-Backed Securities: Costs and Benefits of “Bankruptcy Remoteness”, 24 Rev. Fin. Stud. 1299 (2011) (finding a pricing premium for bankruptcy remote instruments).

 [19]. See infra Section VI.A.

 [20]. See Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 390.

 [21]. Our example is loosely based on the business model of General Growth Properties, an enterprise that operated about over 200 shopping malls financed mainly through securitization vehicles, as described in its highly publicized bankruptcy. See generally In re Gen. Growth Props. Inc., 409 B.R. 43 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2009) (deciding motions in General Growth Properties’ bankruptcy case).

 [22]. This example is based on the Ala Moana mall, a former General Growth property that is located near Waikiki Beach in Honolulu, Hawaii. It is the largest outdoor shopping mall in the world, and home to luxury shops such as Gucci and Chanel. See Retail Space for Lease at Ala Moana Center, Brookfield Props., https://www.brookfieldpropertiesretail.com/properties/property-details/ala-moana-center.html (last visited Jan. 28, 2019); Declaration of James A. Mesterharm Pursuant to Local Bankruptcy Rule 1007-2 in Support of First Day Motions at 66, In re Gen. Growth Props., Inc., No. 09-11977, 409 B.R. 43 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2009), ECF No. 13 [hereinafter Mesterharm Declaration].

 [23]. This example is based on another one of General Growth’s shopping malls, called Sooner Mall, which is located in Norman, Oklahoma. See Retail Space for Lease at Sooner Mall, Brookfield Props., https://www.brookfieldpropertiesretail.com/properties/property-details/sooner-mall.html (last visited Jan. 28, 2019); Mesterharm Declaration, supra note 22, at 59.

 [24]. These financiers are not limited to banks; trade creditors, such as suppliers, often become creditors as they wait for payment for services rendered or for goods delivered.

 [25]. Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 390.

 [26]. Id. at 399–404. Partitioning can also prevent redundant and insufficient monitoring. See Picker, supra note 14, at 660; Saul Levmore, Monitors and Freeriders in Commercial and Corporate Settings, 92 Yale L.J. 49, 51–53, 57–59 (1982).

 [27]. Thomas H. Jackson & Anthony T. Kronman, Secured Financing and Priorities Among Creditors, 88 Yale L.J. 1143, 1143 (1979). But see Alan Schwartz, Security Interests and Bankruptcy Priorities: A Review of Current Theories, 10 J. Legal Stud. 1, 9–14 (1981) (questioning the empirical foundation of the claim that junior creditors monitor).

 [28]. This is subject to the risk that whole business of the owner becomes bankrupt. See infra Section III.G.

 [29]. See, e.g., Jackson & Kronman, supra note 27, at 1156–57 n.51; Levmore, supra note 26, at 53; Picker, supra note 14, at 658.

 [30]. Triantis, supra note 11, at 1131.

 [31]. See infra Section III.C.

 [32]. U.C.C. § 9-322(a) (Am. Law Inst. & Unif. Law Comm’n 2010).

 [33]. Our fixed priority thesis does not entail that priority is immune to all change. Rather, we claim that security interests fix priority to whatever degree and in whatever way the law allows.

 [34]. For a discussion of how structural priority can establish the priorities among creditors, see Douglas G. Baird, Priority Matters: Absolute Priority, Relative Priority, and the Costs of Bankruptcy, 165 U. Pa. L. Rev. 785, 820–21 (2017).

 [35]. Casey, supra note 8, at 2740 n.180.

 [36]. See generally Barry E. Adler & Marcel Kahan, The Technology of Creditor Protection, 161 U. Penn. L. Rev. 1773 (2013) (discussing ways to award recovery rights against third parties).

 [37]. Del. Code Ann. tit 8, § 124 (2018) (making ultra vires acts enforceable). Charters can create priority among shareholders, for example when preferred stockholders gain a preference over common stockholders. However, this is only binding on participants to the corporate contract who were on notice of the potential for issuing new shares that might alter intra-shareholder priority, and it cannot alter the priorities of third parties.

 [38]. See Barry E. Adler, Financial and Political Theories of American Corporate Bankruptcy, 45 Stan. L. Rev. 311, 338 (1993) (discussing the law of apparent authority). The debt would be ultra vires, but that does not render it unenforceable. See, e.g., Del. Code Ann. tit 8, § 124 (making ultra vires acts enforceable); In re Mulco Prods., Inc., 123 A.2d 95, 103–05 (Del. Super. Ct. 1956) (describing the law of apparent authority), aff’d sub nom. Mulco Prods., Inc. v. Black, 127 A.2d 851 (Del. 1956); see also Picker, supra note 14, at 652 (discussing a debtor’s ability to assure a creditor that the debtor will not take on new debt).

 [39]. See Adler & Kahan, supra note 36, at 1795 n.63.

 [40]. Control may cause a creditor’s claims to be equitably subordinated in bankruptcy or expose the creditor to lender liability lawsuits. See Steven L. Schwarcz, The Easy Case for the Priority of Secured Claims in Bankruptcy, 47 Duke L.J. 425, 438–39 (1997).

 [41]. For the classic discussion of this information asymmetry, see generally George A. Akerlof, The Market for “Lemons”: Quality Uncertainty and the Market Mechanism, 84 Q.J. ECON. 488 (1970).

 [42]. In contrast, information on security interests is generally publicly available in the relevant registry.

 [43]. In many cases, being third in priority may be better than having equal priority with all creditors. For example, imagine that 100 creditors are each owed $10 and that the enterprise is worth only $30. If all creditors share ratably, then each will receive $0.03. However, if C3 ranks higher than ninety-seven creditors, she should be able to fully recover her claim.

 [44]. See Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 419–20 (discussing the possibility and limitations of a single-creditor solution to asset partitioning); see also Robert E. Scott, A Relational Theory of Secured Financing, 86 Colum. L. Rev. 901, 948–50 (1986) (discussing single-creditor lending to small firms).

 [45]. We have also dimmed the creditor and asset that is not relevant to the discussion.

 [46]. Republic Nat’l Bank of Dall. v. Fitzgerald (In re of E. A. Fretz Co.), 565 F.2d 366, 368–69 (5th Cir. 1978).

 [47]. Id. at 368.

 [48]. Id. at 372.

 [49]. Id. at 369.

 [50]. Id. at 372. Other courts have reached similar conclusions. See, e.g., W.C. Fore Trucking Co. v. Biloxi Prestress Concrete, Inc. (In re Biloxi Prestress Concrete, Inc.), 98 F.3d 204, 209 (5th Cir. 1996); Whitlock v. Max Goodman & Sons Realty, Inc. (In re Goodman Indus., Inc.), 21 B.R. 512 (Bankr. D. Mass. 1982); In re Adirondack Timber Enter., No. 08–12553, 2010 WL 1741378, at *3–4 (Bankr. N.D.N.Y. Apr. 28, 2010). Note that cases sanctioning the use of participation agreements, whereby participant lenders may benefit from a lead lender’s prioritized security interest, are consistent with this view. See, e.g., Bayer Corp. v. MascoTech, Inc. (In re AutoStyle Plastics, Inc.), 269 F.3d 726, 744 (6th Cir. 2001). Under such agreements, only the lead lender may pursue recourse against the debtor, and participant lenders are paid by and have contractual relationships with the lead lender, not the debtor. Id. at 736. Participant lenders benefit from a lead lender’s prioritized security interest, particularly where the lead lender’s credit arrangement with the debtor is expandable, because the lead lender may claim the full amount of the debt, which it may use to pay the participant lenders. Id. at 736–37. Such arrangements thus represent security interests for floating debt, not floating priority for creditors.

 [51]. See, e.g., Casey, supra note 8, at 2684–85 (arguing that tailored asset partitions facilitate effective creditor monitoring); Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 401–03; Jackson & Kronman, supra note 27, at 1156; Levmore, supra note 26, at 49–50; Richard A. Posner, The Rights of Creditors of Affiliated Corporations, 43 U. Chi. L. Rev. 499, 501–02 (1976); Gabriel Rauterberg, Agency Law as Asset Partitioning 17 (Aug. 10, 2015) (unpublished manuscript), https://papers.ssrn.com
/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2641646.

 [52]. Michael C. Jensen, Agency Costs of Free Cash Flow, Corporate Finance, and Takeovers, 76 Am. Econ. Rev. 323, 326–27 (1986); Steven Kaplan, The Effects of Management Buyouts on Operating Performance and Value, 24 J. Fin. Econ. 217, 250–51 (1989); cf. Andrei Shleifer & Lawrence H. Summers, Breach of Trust in Hostile Takeovers, in Corporate Takeovers: Their Causes and Consequences 33, 53 (Alan J. Auerbach ed., 1988).

 [53]. See Oliver Hart & John Moore, Debt and Seniority: An Analysis of the Role of Hard Claims in Constraining Management, 85 Am. Econ. Rev. 567, 568 (1995); George G. Triantis, A Free-Cash-Flow Theory of Secured Debt and Creditor Priorities, 80 Va. L. Rev. 2155, 2155–57 (1994).

 [54]. Efraim Benmelech & Nittai Bergman, Debt, Information, and Illiquidity 18–19 (Nat’l Bureau of Econ. Research, Working Paper No. 25054, 2018), https://www.nber.org/papers/w25054.

 [55]. U.C.C. §§ 9-108(c), 9-504(2) (Am. Law Inst. & Unif. Law Comm’n 2010); see also Melissa B. Jacoby & Edward J. Janger, Ice Cube Bonds: Allocating the Price of Process in Chapter 11 Bankruptcy, 123 Yale L.J. 862, 922–24 (discussing obstacles to obtaining a security interest in all of a debtor’s property).

 [56]. U.C.C. § 9-204. Moreover, security interests in inventory do not follow the inventory if sold in the ordinary course of business, see id. § 9-320, and ordinarily security interests in deposits do not follow the cash once it is withdrawn, see id. § 9-332(a).

 [57]. See id. § 9-315.

 [58]. For example, the English floating charge is a security interest over all or substantially all of the assets of a company. See Roy Goode, Principles of Corporate Insolvency Laws 325–27 (4th ed. 2011).

 [59]. See infra Part IV.

 [60]. U.C.C. § 9-310; Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 418. Article 9 allows alternative methods for perfecting a security interest. Id. § 9-310(b). For example, possession is a common means of perfection often associated with pawn shops. Id. § 9-313. Control is also often used to perfect interest in securities. Id. § 9-314. Other security interests perfect automatically, without any filing. Id. § 9-309.

 [61]. See, e.g., Barry E. Adler, An Equity-Agency Solution to the Bankruptcy-Priority Puzzle, 22 J. Legal Stud. 73, 80 (1993).

 [62]. Mann, supra note 17, at 662–63. Mann put the cost as $40 per $100,000, or one twenty-fifth of one percent of the principal loaned.

 [63]. Barry E. Adler & George Triantis, Debt Priority and Options in Bankruptcy: A Policy Intervention, 91 Am. Bankr. L.J. 563, 572 (2017).

 [64]. For example, publicly traded corporations must file an 8-K to report “material . . . agreements . . . not made in the ordinary course of business.” Additional Form 8-K Disclosure Requirements & Acceleration of Filing Date, 17 C.F.R. §§ 228–30, 239–40, 249 (2018).

 [65]. Henry Hansmann & Reinier Kraakman, Property, Contract, and Verification: The Numerus Clausus Problem and the Divisibility o                                                                                                                                                          f Rights, 31 J. Legal Stud. S373, S39395 (2002) [hereinafter Hansmann & Kraakman, Property, Contract, and Verification] (discussing the trade-off between benefit to parties of using property law against investigation cost to third parties).

 [66]. Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 422; Hansmann & Kraakman, Property, Contract, and Verification, supra note 65, at S403.

 [67]. It is important not to overstate security interest laws’ powers of recovery against third parties. See 11 U.S.C. § 362(a) (2012) (barring all recovery efforts against debtors that have filed for bankruptcy); U.C.C. § 9-609 (Am. Law Inst. & Unif. Law Comm’n 2010) (prohibiting self-help where it causes a “breach of the peace”); Douglas G. Baird & Robert K. Rasmussen, Private Debt and the Missing Lever of Corporate Governance, 154 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1209, 1229 (2006) (noting practical limitations on recovery); Lynn M. LoPucki, The Unsecured Creditor’s Bargain, 80 Va. L. Rev. 1887, 1922 (1994) (discussing the long timeline of real property foreclosure laws). Moreover, self-help can also be replicated by other contractual means, such as leases. To use the example from Part I, C1 can purchase the Hawaii mall and then lease it to the owner. As in a secured transaction, the creditor pays a fixed sum and stands to recover a fixed sum unless the owner defaults, in which case the creditor owns the mall. Thus, if the owner ceases to pay, the lease is breached, and C1 can simply repossess the assets she already owns.

 [68]. U.C.C. § 9-201(a).

 [69]. Triantis, supra note 11, at 1138. The debt can continue to grow and yet benefit from the senior priority. U.C.C. §§ 9-204(c), 9-323(a) & cmt. 3. This is a strong deterrent to buying an asset subject to a lien. See Adler, supra note 61, at 78–79.

 [70]. See Statute of 13 Elizabeth, 13 Eliz. 1, ch. 4 (1571) (Eng.); Unif. Fraudulent Transfer Act (Unif. Law Comm’n 2014); Unif. Voidable Transactions Act (Unif. Law Comm’n 2018); Unif. Fraudulent Conveyance Act (Unif. Law Comm’n 2018).

 [71]. Unif. Fraudulent Transfer Act (Unif. Law Comm’n 2014); Unif. Voidable Transactions Act (Unif. Law Comm’n 2018).

 [72]. Stephen M. Bainbridge, Corporation Law and Economics 29 (2002).

 [73]. See Del. Code Ann. tit. 8, § 141(a) (2018) (allowing firms to confer the powers and duties of a board of directors on anyone provided in the charter).

 [74]. See, e.g., Revised Unif. Partnership Act § 401(f) (1997); Del. Code Ann. tit. 6, § 18-402 (2018).

 [75]. See infra Part IV.

 [76]. Hansmann and Kraakman refer to it as defensive asset partitioning. Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 394; see also Hansmann et al., Law and the Rise of the Firm, supra note 8, at 1336.

 [77]. See generally Bainbridge & Henderson, Limited Liability: A Legal and Economic Analysis (2016) (explaining the importance of limited liability); The Key to Industrial Capitalism: Limited Liability, Economist (Dec. 23, 1999), https://www.economist.com/finance-and-economics
/1999/12/23/the-key-to-industrial-capitalism-limited-liability (praising limited liability).

 [78]. U.C.C. § 9-608(a)(4), 9-615(d)(2) (Am. Law Inst. & Unif. Law Comm’n 2010) (“[T]he obligor is liable for any deficiency.”). The parties can agree that C1 will have no recourse to A2, id. § 9-608 cmt. 3 (“The parties are always free to agree that an obligor will not be liable for a deficiency, even if the collateral secures an obligation . . . .”). However, American bankruptcy law gives secured parties the option of unsecured recourse to all the debtor’s assets. 11 U.S.C. § 1111(b)(1)(A) (2012); see also Iacobucci & Triantis, supra note 8, at 52932.

 [79]. Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 429.

 [80]. Casey, supra note 8, at 2722.

 [81]. See United States v. Bestfoods, 524 U.S. 51, 66–68, 70–71 (1998).

 [82]. The advantage is only relative. Courts have allowed participants in reciprocal insurance schemes to limit their liability by contracts duly filed with the state insurance commissioner, even against non-consenting creditors. See, e.g., Hill v. Blanco Nat’l Bank, 179 S.W.2d 999 (Tex. Civ. App. 1944); Wysong v. Auto. Underwriters, 184 N.E. 783, 788 (Ind. 1933). See generally Andrew Verstein, Enterprise Without Entities, 116 Mich. L. Rev. 247 (2017) (discussing reciprocal insurance schemes and their role in limiting the need for entities to obtain liability protection).

 [83]. See Dafna Avraham et al., A Structural View of U.S. Bank Holding Companies, 18 Fed. Res. Bank of N.Y. Econ. Pol’y. Rev. 65, 72 (2012) (finding that seven bank holding companies own almost 15,000 subsidiaries).

 [84]. Cf. Henry Hansmann & Reinier Kraakman, Toward Unlimited Shareholder Liability for Corporate Torts, 100 Yale L.J. 1879 (1991) (questioning the desirability of limited liability for torts).

 [85]. Peter Z. Grossman, The Market for Shares of Companies with Unlimited Liability: The Case of American Express, 24 J. Legal Stud. 63, 66 (1995); Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 430; Mark I. Weinstein, Don’t Buy Shares Without It: Limited Liability Comes to American Express, 37 J. Legal Stud. 189, 191–92 (2008); Mark I. Weinstein, Share Price Changes the Arrival of Limited Liability in California, 32 J. Legal Stud. 1, 1–2 (2003).

 [86]. Casey, supra note 8, at 2719–20; Iacobucci & Triantis, supra note 8, at 533.

 [87]. See Douglas G. Baird, The Uneasy Case for Corporate Reorganizations, 15 J. Legal Stud. 127, 127 (1986); Thomas H. Jackson, Bankruptcy, Non-Bankruptcy Entitlements, and the Creditors’ Bargain, 91 Yale L.J. 857, 857 (1982).

 [88]. 75 C.J.S. Receivers §§ 16, 44 (2018); Receiverships, 4 I.R.M. § 5.17.13.10 (2017). Secured creditors generally file for receivership to prevent collateral from decreasing in value or to avoid repossession. Mary Jo Heston, Alternatives to Bankruptcy: Receiverships, Assignments for Benefit of Creditors, and Informal Workout Arrangements, 2009 WL 4052825, at *5.

 [89]. Andrew C. Kassner & Howard A. Cohen, Anything but Bankruptcy!: ABCs, Receiverships and Other Alternatives, 080405 Am. Bankr. Inst. 239 (2005).

 [90]. Heston, supra note 88, at 5; see also 75 C.J.S. Receivers § 16 (without a judgment, general and contract creditors typically cannot initiate receiverships).

 [91]. Gary Marsh & Caryn E. Wang, Bankruptcy Versus Receivership—Unsecured Creditors, in Strategic Alternatives for and Against Distressed Businesses § 12:18 (2018). Note that although bankruptcy provides for the creation of an unsecured creditors’ committee, receivership does not provide this option. Id.

 [92]. Douglas G. Baird & Anthony Casey, No Exit? Withdrawal Rights and the Law of Corporate Reorganizations, 113 Colum. L. Rev. 1 (2013), Casey, supra note 8, and Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8 all refer to this as liquidation protection.

 [93]. Cf. Steven L. Schwarcz, The Conundrum of Covered Bonds, 66 Bus. Law. 561, 567 n. 43 (2011) (noting sources that distinguish between bankruptcy “remoteness” and bankruptcy “segregation”).

 [94]. Gorton & Metrick, supra note 1, at 1300; Schwarcz, supra note 1, at 135.

 [95]. See In re LTV Steel Co., 274 B.R. 278, 280–81 (Bankr. N.D. Ohio 2001); Ayotte & Gaon, supra note 18, at 7 (finding a twenty-five to twenty-nine basis point price reduction for bankruptcy remote instruments following the LTV decision, which reduced bankruptcy remoteness for many instruments). There have been state law legislative efforts to reduce these risks. See Steven L. Schwarcz, Securitization Post-Enron, 25 Cardozo L. Rev. 1539, 1546–49 (2004). However, a proposed amendment to the federal bankruptcy code (Section 912 of the Bankruptcy Reform Act) was not enacted, leaving the risks appreciable.

 [96]. Courts often undermine bankruptcy-remote structures or consolidate superficially separate subsidiaries, even when tidier structures are used. Douglas G. Baird, Substantive Consolidation Today, 47 B.C. L. Rev. 5, 5 (2005); William H. Widen, Corporate Form and Substantive Consolidation, 75 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 237, 239 (2007) (finding that half of all large public company bankruptcies involve substantive consolidation by court order or settlement). See generally Dennis J. Connolly, John C. Weitnauer & Jonathan T. Edwards, Current Approaches to Substantive Consolidation: Owens Corning Revisited, 2009 Norton’s Ann. Surv. Bankr. L. 2 (providing a laundry list of factors courts use in determining whether substantive consolidation is appropriate). Even solvent subsidiaries can be drawn into the bankruptcy process and subjected to substantive consolidation. See, e.g., Kapila v. S & G Fin. Servs., LLC (In re S&G Fin. Servs. of S. Fla.,               Inc.), 451 B.R. 573, 579–82 (Bankr. S.D. Fla. 2011).

 [97]. Even in the context of securitizations, where the goal is to isolate the assets from the sponsor corporation, sponsors have strong incentives to bail out their SPEs if the assets are not performing. Thus, Citigroup, JPMorgan and Bank of America all bought billions of dollars’ worth of securitized assets from their SPEs when those assets failed to perform, even though they had no legal obligation to do so. Francesco Guerrera & Saskia Scholtes, Banks Come to the Aid of Card Securitisation Vehicles, Fin. Times (June 25, 2009), http://www.ft.com/content/bcf1769c-60ee-11de-aa12-00144feabdc0; see Henry Hansmann & Richard Squire, External and Internal Asset Partitioning: Corporations and Their Subsidiaries, in The Oxford Handbook of Corporate Law and Governance 17 (Jeffrey N. Gordon & Wolf-Georg Ringe eds., 2016); cf. Casey, supra note 8, at 2721–22 (noting the extensive use of cross guarantees but offering an efficiency explanation for it).

 [98]. See generally In re Gen. Growth Props. Inc., 409 B.R. 43 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2009).

 [99]. The mall example from Figure 2 is drawn from the General Growth bankruptcy. See generally id.

 [100]. General Growth is essentially a securitization vehicle funded by numerous SPEs; we discuss securitization in more detail in Section IV.A.

 [101]. Nonetheless, it is important to emphasize that the court did not consolidate the SPEs and seems to have respected the priorities of the bondholders. In re Gen. Growth Props., Inc., 409 B.R. at 69. We discuss SPEs in greater detail infra Section IV.A.

 [102]. In addition, regulatory regimes may also protect asset pools from liquidation. Reciprocal insurance companies have long operated as a nexus of contract without any corporation at the core, in part because insurance regulation often bars creditors from initiating liquidation procedures. See Verstein, supra note 82, at 283 (describing how exclusive commissioner control over liquidation preserves other insurance enterprises without entities).

 [103]. See generally Charles W. Mooney, Jr., Choice-of-Law Rules for Secured Transactions: An Interest-Based and Modern Principles-Based Framework for Assessment, 22 Unif. L. Rev. 842 (2017) (offering a framework for assessing choice-of-law rules for secured transactions).

 [104]. Goode, supra note 58, at 315–77. When an application for administration is made, the holder of the floating charge is legally entitled to notice, and he can use the notice period to step in and appoint an administrative receiver. The appointment of an administrative receiver precludes the appointment of the administrator, and the administrative receiver has a duty to continue to operate the assets for the benefit of the charge holder.

 [105]. In some jurisdictions, practical considerations or the inadequacies of enabling legislation still result in the creation of a separate entity. Steven L. Schwarcz, Securitization, Structured Finance, and Covered Bonds, 39 J. Corp. L. 129, 143 (2013).

 [106]. Schwarcz, supra note 93, at 567.

 [107]. 11 U.S.C. § 1129(b)(2) (2012) (barring confirmation of a plan in deviation of absolute priority); see Czyzewski v. Jevic Holding Corp., 137 S. Ct. 973, 979 (2017).

 [108]. The Bankruptcy Code provides adequate protection to secured creditors, such as cash payments. See, e.g., 11 U.S.C. § 361; In re Coker, 216 B.R. 843, 849 (Bankr. N.D. Ala. 1997); see also 11 U.S.C. § 506(b) (providing post-petition interest payments to over-secured creditor).

 [109]. See Douglas G. Baird & Robert K. Rasmussen, Antibankruptcy, 119 Yale L.J. 648, 675–76 (2010).

 [110]. See Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 421 (calling entities advantage in bankruptcy remoteness “relatively modest” and “an artifact of the weakness of U.S. bankruptcy law . . . .”). For example, United Savings Association of Texas v. Timbers of Inwood Forest Associates, Ltd., 484 U.S. 365 (1988) held that secured creditors are not owed interest payments as a result of delayed foreclosure on collateral due to the automatic stay. Creditors increasingly sought bankruptcy protection in light of this decision, but it is hardly an inevitable feature bankruptcy system.

 [111]. The rights of secured parties were even stronger prior to the 1978 reform of the Bankruptcy Code; if the collateral was an important asset, a secured creditor could effectively forestall a reorganization. James J. White, Death and Resurrection of Secured Credit, 12 Am. Bankr. Inst. L. Rev. 139, 142 (2004). Although the automatic stay prevented secured creditors from repossessing collateral, no other rights of secured creditors could be impaired. Id. While the debtor had greater rights to interfere with secured creditors’ claims under chapter X of the 1898 Act, few companies went into chapter X. Id. Before the 1898 Act was amended in the 1930s, secured creditors could in principle also repossess the assets in the course of bankruptcy proceedings. See generally Patrick A. Murphy, Restraint and Reimbursement: The Secured Creditor in Reorganization and Arrangement Proceedings, 30 Bus. Law. 15 (1974). To be sure, the bankruptcy court does have the power to protect by injunction its jurisdiction of the property of the bankrupt. Id. at 18.

 [112]. White, supra note 111, at 142, 149. The 1978 revisions to the bankruptcy code embody a preference for reorganization over liquidation in order to preserve debtor firms. Id. at 139–40.

 [113]. Revised Unif. P’ship Act § 801(6) (amended 1997), 6 U.L.A. 103 (Supp. 2000); Unif. P’ship Act § 32(2), 6 U.L.A. 804 (1995). We note though that the creditors of the partnership itself have priority over the partner’s creditors in the assets. Revised Unif. P’ship Act § 807(a). See Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 394–95; Hansmann et al., Law and the Rise of the Firm, supra note 8, at 1137–39.

 [114]. See Hansmann & Kraakman, Essential Role, supra note 8, at 421 (referring to the disregard for the priorities of security creditors in bankruptcy as a “weakness of U.S. bankruptcy law”).

 [115]. For general descriptions, see generally Special Purpose Entity (SPE/SPV) and Bankruptcy Remoteness, in 5 Law of Distressed Real Estate § 56 (2018); Gorton and Metrick, supra note 1, at 1–70; Schwarcz, supra note 1, at 135.

 [116]. The SPE may be formed as any entity; usually it will be a business trust, LLC, or limited partnership, mainly for tax reasons.

 [117]. These SPEs may even be owned by nonprofit corporations whose function is to facilitate the securitization transaction.

 [118]. See Tri Vi Dang, Gary Gorton & Bengt Holmström, The Information Sensitivity of a Security (2015), http://www.columbia.edu/~td2332/Paper_Sensitivity.pdf.

 [119]. Impact of Bankruptcy on Real Estate Transactions, in 2 Law of Real Estate Financing § 13:38 (2018).

 [120]. Mesterharm Declaration, supra note 22, at 5–6.

 [121]. Supra Section II.A.2.

 [122]. This is presumably a mechanism to reduce the costs of filing notices required under Article 9 of the UCC to assign the security interests with respect to each bondholder when the notes are sold in the secondary market.

 [123]. See 17 C.F.R. § 230.190 (2018). These costs are particularly high in the context of note programs that include multiple issuances of bonds with largely identical terms and managed by the same management company, yet each backed up by a separate pool of assets. Nigel Feetham & Grant Jones, Protected Cell Companies: A Guide to their Implementation and Use 20–23 (2d ed. 2010).

 [124]. Again, we emphasize that bankruptcy protection through the use of entities is not guaranteed. See supra Section III.G.

 [125]. See Ayotte & Gaon, supra note 18, at 1299–1335 (finding a pricing premium for bankruptcy remote instruments).

 [126]. Though note that, as discussed in Section III.G, in In re General Growth Properties, Inc., 409 B.R. 43 (Bankr. S.D.N.Y. 2009), the assets of the SPEs were all included in bankruptcy of the parent company.

 [127]. Entity-based securitization became popular only in the 1980s following the general weakening of security-based rights in bankruptcy. See White, supra note 111.

 [128]. See supra notes 102–04 and accompanying text.

 [129]. Typically, these are business that have predictable cash flows, like pub companies. See Claire A. Hill, Whole Business Securitization in Emerging Markets, 12 Duke J. Comp. & Int’l L. 521, 526 (2002).

 [130]. In practice, a SPE is actually formed, but its function is to hold the security interests, including the floating charge, on behalf of the creditors, but its function is purely to coordinate among bondholders. An SPE acts as administrator of the claims and collects payments, but because the assets are not transferred to the SPE, it is not necessary for ensuring the assets are bankruptcy remote.

 [131]. See, e.g., Kathryn Judge, Fragmentation Nodes: A Study in Financial Innovation, Complexity, and Systemic Risk, 64 Stan. L. Rev. 657, 716 (2012).

 [132]. Steven L. Schwarcz, Securitization, Structured Finance, and Covered Bonds, 39 J. Corp. L. 129, 142 (2013) (“By the end of 2008, the amount of covered bonds outstanding in Europe alone was approximately €2.38 trillion, up from €1.5 trillion in 2003.”).

 [133]. Schwarcz, supra note 93, at 567.

 [134]. See Steven L. Schwarcz, Ring-Fencing, 87 S. Cal. L. Rev. 69, 74–75 (2014).

 [135]. For background on captive insurance, see generally Jay D. Adkisson & Chris M. Riser, Asset Protection: Concepts & Strategies for Protecting Your Wealth (2004); Jay D. Adkinsson, Adkisson’s Captive Insurance Companies: An Introduction to Captives, Closely-Held Insurance Companies, and Risk Retention Groups (2006); Luke Ike, Risk Management & Captive Insurance (2016); F. Hale Stewart & Beckett G. Cantley, U.S. Captive Insurance Law (2d ed. 2015); Peter J. Strauss, The Business Owner’s Definitive Guide to Captive Insurance Companies: What You Need to Know About Formation and Management (2017) (outlining fundamentals and benefits of captive insurance for business owners); Daniel Schwarcz & Steven L. Schwarcz, Regulating Systemic Risk in Insurance, 81 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1569, 1624–26 (2014).

 [136]. A commercial insurance company would charge higher premiums to cover the risks and substantial reserves would have to be held against these risks. This business rationale is similar to the rationale for mutual insurance companies. See Henry Hansmann, The Organization of Insurance Companies: Mutual Versus Stock, 1 J.L. Econ. & Org. 125, 148–49 (1985).

 [137]. Christopher L. Culp, Structured Finance and Insurance: The Art of Managing Capital and Risk 524–25 (2006).

 [138]. Due to local regulation, there may also be a need for a local insurer, called a fronting insurer, to collect the premiums and transfer them to the captive entity.

 [139]. There are various provisions in the organizational documents of the captive and the insurance policy with the insured which impose restrictions on the use of the assets by the captive entity. But as discussed in Section II.A, these provisions are not sufficient to bind third parties.

 [140]. Del. Code Ann. tit. 18, § 6922(3)–(4) (2018).

 [141]. There are other ancillary drawbacks to using only security interests. Security interests in the funds typically require a clear definition of the secured assets, U.C.C. § 9-108 (2008), and control by the insured, id. §§ 9-104, 9-327. Although perfection by control is common, the UCC does not allow perfection through control by third parties, and complications may arise when the account is subject to a security interest by more than one creditor. See Rene Ghadimi, Common Mistakes Under the UCC, Secured Lender, May–June 2009, at 35–38, https://files.skadden.com/sites%2Fdefault%2Ffiles
%2Fpublications%2FPublications1803_0. Moreover, in some jurisdictions, security interests in deposit accounts are not permitted. See Deloitte Legal, Guide to Cross-Border Secured Transactions passim (2013), www2.deloitte.com/content/dam/Deloitte/global/Documents/Legal/dttl-legal-international-guide-to-secured-transactions-2014.pdf.

 [142]. See Feetham & Jones, supra note 123, at 7–10.

 [143]. Id. at 14.

 [144]. Id. at 8–10.

 [145]. John D. Morley & Quinn Curtis, Taking Exit Rights Seriously: Why Governance and Fee Litigation Don’t Work in Mutual Funds, 120 Yale L.J. 84, 88 (2010).

 [146]. John D. Morley, The Regulation of Mutual Fund Debt, 30 Yale J. on Reg. 343, 346 (2013).

 [147]. Henry Hansmann & Ugo Mattei, The Functions of Trust Law: A Comparative Legal and Economic Analysis, 73 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 434, 438–39 (1998); John Morley, The Separation of Funds and Managers: A Theory of Investment Fund Structure and Regulation, 123 Yale L.J. 1228, 1238–39 (2014).

 [148]. Hansmann & Mattei, supra note 147; Morley & Curtis, supra note 145.

 [149]. 15 U.S.C. § 80a-18(f)(1) (2012).

 [150]. A new investor has to contribute new capital and, at the time of the investment, is entitled only to that capital. Of course, the value of the pro rata share of the new investor (as well as other investors) can fluctuate, but the investor’s priorities remain fixed.

 [151]. The second indicator of priority type—the value of managerial discretion—is more equivocal for funds. On the one hand, actively managed funds are chosen in large part because their managers’ discretion is deemed valuable. On the other hand, research on actively managed funds reveals this to be largely unjustified. Many investors therefore put their money in passive funds, where manager discretion is not valued. Either way, the assets in the funds are marketable securities with very little going concern value. The managers’ ability to create value greater than the sum of its parts may be valuable in industrial companies but not in funds.

 [152]. Morley & Curtis, supra note 145, at 119. In contrast, investors in closed-end funds, who have no discretion to withdraw their investment at any time, tend to be more active in monitoring the fund managers. The fund also has greater latitude in issuing different classes of stock and bonds. Investors in those funds tend to be more sophisticated, and hence it makes sense for the priorities in these funds to be less fixed.

 [153]. Similar to securitizations, the security interest can be in the name of an agent on behalf of investors in the fund.

 [154]. This requirement could be imposed by regulation in order to ensure that all creditors comply.

 [155]. Victoria E. Schonfeld & Thomas M. J. Kerwin, Organization of a Mutual Fund, 49 Bus. Law. 107, 116 (1993) (“Multiple legal entities, however, inevitably require duplication and expense resulting from separate boards, agreements with service providers, prospectuses, periodic reports, and other regulatory filings.”). A recent article states that “it appears likely that the vast majority of funds in existence today are formed as part of a series entity.”  Joseph A. Franco, Commoditized Governance: The Curious Case of Investment Company Shared Series Trusts, 44 J. Corp. L. 233, 246 (2019). Insofar as funds are now often formed as multiple series under a single LLC or trust, it would presumably reflect asset partitioning arising out the investment company act. See ICA § 18(f)(2), 15 U.S.C. § 80a-18(f)(2) (2012) (permitting mutual funds to issue multiple securities series if and only if each series “is preferred over all other classes or series in respect of assets specifically allocated to that class or series”).

 [156]. Hansmann & Mattei, supra note 147, at 468; Morley, supra note 147, at 1271. As in the case of captive insurance, security interests would also be a cumbersome mechanism for fixing the priority of investors in mutual funds. The investors would need to file a financing statement to register their security interest and to establish control over their respective accounts. See supra note 141.

 [157]. See, e.g., Henry Hansmann, Reinier Kraakman & Richard Squire, The New Business Entities in Evolutionary Perspective, 2005 U. Ill. L. Rev. 5, 5–14 (2005).

 [158]. Other U.S. states that have protected cell legislation where many captive insurance companies incorporate include Vermont, Utah, and Nevada. See Feetham & Jones, supra note 123, at 56–57.

 [159]. These costs can be significant for small businesses. See id. at 7–10.

 [160]. The name “cell” emerged from the terms used by insurance companies to discuss each account in a rental captive product, in structures that used only contractual terms and security interests in an attempt to create fixed priority and bankruptcy remoteness. Id.  

 [161]. The Delaware statute seems to be based on the protected cell regime that was first adopted in countries such as Guernsey, and the segregated portfolio companies in countries such as the Cayman Islands. See Feetham & Jones, supra note 123. One difference, though, is that the statutes in offshore jurisdictions seem to be available for forming mutual funds and securitization SPEs, whereas the Delaware statute is limited to captive insurance.

 [162]. Del. Code Ann. tit. 18, § 6934(3) (2018). Also, the assets, results of operations, and financial condition of each cell must be documented separately. Id. § 6934(2).

 [163]. See supra Section IV.B.

 [164]. Del. Code Ann. tit. 18, § 6932(1)–(2).

 [165]. Id. § 6934(8).

 [166]. See id. § 6934(4)–(5).

 [167]. The priority created by the cells is symmetric in the sense that no creditors have deficiency claims to assets of the company which are not placed in their respective cells. As argued by Richard Squire, asymmetric priorities can generate shifts of value from the one creditor to another, for example, where a secured creditor can also claim on the unsecured assets. Because the creditors of each cell have no recourse to assets of other cells, the priorities are symmetric and therefore are not vulnerable to such value-shifting. See Squire, supra note 8, at 861.

 [168]. Del. Code Ann. tit. 18, § 6918.

 [169]. Id. § 6938(1). The protected cell company’s minimum capital and surplus must be available to pay claims against the protected cell company. See id. § 5911.

 [170]. Feetham & Jones, supra note 123, at 23–27.

 [171]. The Open-Ended Investment Companies (Amendment) Regulations 2011, SI 2011/3049, art. 3, ¶ 2 (Eng.), (“‘[S]ub-fund’ means a separate part of the property of an umbrella company that is pooled separately.”).

 [172]. Id. ¶ 11A(1).

 [173]. Id. 11A(2).

 [174]. Id. 11A(3).

 [175]. See Fin. Conduct Auth., Collective Investment Schemes § 5.5.4 (2019), http://www.handbook.fca.org.uk/handbook/COLL.pdf.

 [176]. See id. §§ 5.5.5, 5.5.7 (prohibiting mortgages of the scheme property).

 [177]. Fin. Conduct Auth., The Perimeter Guidance Manual § 9.9.2 (2019), http://www.handbook.fca.org.uk/handbook/PERG/9.pdf.

 [178]. Jane Thornton & Jane Tuckley, Winding Up an OEIC or OEIC Sub-Fund, Practical Law UK Practice Note, 0-504-3966 (2017).

 [179]. Loi du 22 mars 2004 relative à la titrisation [Law of 22 March 2004 on Securitization], Journal Officiel du Grand-Duché de Luxembourg [Official Gazette of Luxembourg], 29 Mar. 2004, art. (6)(2) (Lux.) translated in Law of 22 March 2004 on Securitisation, Commission de Surveillance du Secteur Financier [hereinafter Law of 22 March 2004 on Securitisation]. France and Italy have similar securitization laws. See Feetham & Jones, supra note 123, at 67, 115; Decreto Legge 14 marzo 2005, n.35, G.U. Mar. 16, 2005, n.62 (It.).

 [180]. Law of 22 March 2004 on Securitisation, art. (10)(1).

 [181]. Id. art. 10(3).

 [182]. Id. art. 12.

 [183]. Id.

 [184]. Id. art. 10(2).

 [185]. Id. art. 17.

 [186]. Id. art. 10(1).

 [187]. Securitisation Undertakings, Commission de Surveillance du Secteur Financier, http://www.cssf.lu/en/supervision/ivm/securitisation (last visited Jan. 29, 2019).

 [188]. Id. (“Securitisation undertakings subject to the 2004 Law enjoy high legal certainty because the 2004 Law expressly lays down the principles of limited recourse and non petition aiming to ensure the securitisation undertaking’s bankruptcy remoteness.” (emphasis added)).

 [189]. Del. Code Ann. tit. 6, § 18-215(a)–(c) (2018).

 [190]. Id. § 18-215(e).

 [191]. Id. § 18-215(a).

 [192]. The debts, obligations, and liabilities incurred by each series are enforceable only against that series, and creditors of the series LLC itself have no recourse against the assets held within each series. Id. § 18-215(b). For the liability shields to be effective, assets of each series and the assets of the LLC itself must be kept separate and records of the assets of each series must be maintained. Id.

 [193]. To be sure, although there is no settled law on the point, the liquidation of the LLC would appear to trigger the liquidation of the series, and to this extent, the series have no bankruptcy protection. See id. § 18-215(k) (a series is dissolved upon the dissolution of series LLC under which it is organized). Also, because each series is potentially structured as a subsidiary of an operating company (as opposed to a regulated management company with limited debt), there is greater risk that a bankruptcy court will consolidate the assets of the LLC and its series. Meredith Pohl, Taking the Series LLC Seriously: Why States Should Adopt This Innovative Business Form, 17 J. Bus. & Sec. L. 207, 229 (2017) (commenting that series LLCs by their very nature include some factors strongly weighed in substantive consolidation, in that parent LLCs create their subsidiary series; documentation for series may be minimal; and different series within an LLC may run different parts of the same business). However, creditors have notice of a series LLCs limited liability, which cuts against substantive consolidation. Id.

 [194]. See Pohl, supra note 193, at 210 n.5. A separate but similar legal form is the series trust, which is generally used to partition assets in investment funds. See generally Del. Code Ann. tit. 12, § 3806(b) (explaining that statutory trust’s governing instrument may set out management pensions). Series trusts lack legal personality. See Eric A. Mazie & J. Weston Peterson, Delaware Series Trusts—Separate but Not Equal, 16 Inv. Law. 1, 3 (2009), http://www.rlf.com/files/CorpTrust01.pdf (noting that investment professionals would find it undesirable for the purposes of SEC registration if series trusts were considered separate entities).

 [195]. Feetham & Jones, supra note 123, at 53–55. Some jurisdictions have adopted legislation allowing for the formation of an Incorporated Cell Company (“ICC”), which performs the same functions as a PCC, but allocates a separate entity status to each cell. See, e.g., The Companies (Guernsey) Law 2008, pt. XXVII (addressing incorporated cells); N.C. Gen. Stat. § 58-10-510 (2018) (authorizing incorporated cells); see also Feetham & Jones, supra note 123, at 129–30. Many novel forms can hold assets in their names and take legal actions, but they do not appear to have a separate legal personality. Id. at 53–55; cf. Mont. Code Ann. § 33-28-301 (2018) (permitting cell to own property while lacking legal personality).

 [196]. Other courts have confronted foreign cells and given them no better treatment. See, e.g., Arrowood Surplus Lines Ins. Co. v. Gettysburg Nat. Indem. Co., No. 3:09CV972 (JCH), 2010 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 33727, at *3 (D. Conn. Apr. 6, 2010) (requiring a Bermuda PCC to post security on behalf of its cell in excess of the cell’s assets and finding that “[i]f the [cell] is undercapitalized, defendant has recourse against the shareholders under the terms of their agreement”).

 [197]. Pac Re 5-AT v. AmTrust N. Am., Inc., No. CV-14-131-BLG-CSO, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 65541, at *1–3 (D. Mont. May 13, 2015).

 [198]. AmTrust N. Am., Inc. v. Pac. Re, Inc., No. 15-cv-7505 (CM), 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 44889, at *9 (S.D.N.Y. Mar. 25, 2016); see also id. at *7 (upholding award despite noting that the arbitrators “may have misinterpreted the applicable law . . . .”).

 [199]. Other statutory language suggests that debts of the cell are non-recourse to the parent. See Mont. Code Ann. § 33-28-301(2)(b) (2017) (“All attributions of assets and liabilities between a protected cell and the protected cell captive insurance company’s general account must be in accordance with the plan of operation and participant contracts approved by the commissioner.”).

 [200]. Id. § 33-28-301(4)–(5).

 [201]. See generally Petition to Confirm Arbitration, Ex. 1, Amtrust N. Am., Inc. v. Pac Re Inc., No. 15-cv-7505 (CM) (S.D.N.Y. May 23, 2016), ECF No. 1-1 (providing a copy of the reinsurance contract).

 [202]. Pac Re 5-AT, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 65541, at *10 (“It is clear that the liabilities and assets of a protected cell are segregated from the other cells and from the PCC.”).

 [203]. Id. at *4–5.

 [204]. AmTrust N. Am., Inc. v. Safebuilt Ins. Servs., No. 16-cv-6033 (CM), 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 153399, at *4, *18 (S.D.N.Y. Nov. 3, 2016).

 [205]. Protected Cell Risk Exposed by Court Decision: Fitch, Captive Int’l (Nov. 2, 2015), http://www.captiveinternational.com/news/protected-cell-company-risk-exposed-by-court-decision-fitch-1321.

 [206]. Infra Section IV.B.

 [207]. “[A] cell is not a separate de jure legal entity, but has many de facto aspects of a legal entity.” Pac Re 5-AT, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 65541, at *10. Thus “[w]ithout a separate legal identity, and absent a statutory grant to the contrary, a protected cell does not have the capacity to sue and be sued independent of the larger PCC.” Id. at *11. Accordingly, the court concluded that the PCC was “properly before the arbitration tribunal and will appropriately be bound by the results of the arbitration.” Id. at *11.

 [208]. Id. at *10–11.

 [209]. See Alphonse v. Arch Bay Holdings, L.L.C., 548 F. App’x 979, 984 (5th Cir. 2013) (“[T]he separate juridical status of a Series LLC with respect to third party plaintiffs remains an open question.”); Hartsel v. Vanguard Grp., Inc., No. 5394-VCP, 2011 Del. Ch. LEXIS 89, at *1–4 (Del. Ch. June 15, 2011), aff’d, 38 A.3d 1254 (Del. 2012) (holding that a series trust is not a separate legal entity); Mazie & Peterson, supra note 194, at 3, 5 (noting that investment professionals would find it undesirable for the purposes of SEC registration if series trusts were considered separate entities).

 [210]. Many cell-based regimes require cells and their parent companies to clearly designate themselves as such. See, e.g., Mont. Code Ann. § 33-28-301(2)(a)(iii) (2017) (“A protected cell must have its own distinct name or designation that must include the words ‘protected cell’ or ‘incorporated cell.’”). Under Italian law, a company can set aside up to ten percent of the company’s assets for the benefit of a designated creditor, if it provides notice in the commercial registry containing its fundamental documents. Codice Civil [C. c.] art. 2447-bis, quater (It.) (providing notice subject to Article 2436).

 [211]. This proposal is therefore distinct from the safe harbor from bankruptcy law that was once proposed for asset-backed securities. That proposal, Section 912 of the Bankruptcy Reform Act of 2001 would have excluded from a debtor’s estate “any eligible asset (or proceeds thereof), to the extent that such eligible asset was transferred by the debtor, before the date of commencement of the case, to an eligible entity in connection with an asset-backed securitization, except to the extent that such asset (or proceeds or value thereof) may be recovered by the trustee under section 550 by virtue of avoidance under section 548(a).” Bankruptcy Reform Act of 2001, H.R. 333, 107th Cong. § 912. Its effect would have been to curtail state law fraudulent conveyance actions often used to challenge entity-based securitization. Section 912 would have greatly increased the effectiveness of entity-based bankruptcy remote securitizations. By contrast, our proposal would take as a given whatever degree of bankruptcy remoteness is available through entities and provide that the same protection can be available to designated security interests.

 [212]. See, e.g., Avraham, supra note 83 (finding that seven bank holding companies own almost 15,000 subsidiaries). For example, Wells Fargo had 1270 subsidiaries in 2012, but just five accounted for 92.5% of the assets.

 [213]. See Triantis, supra note 11, at 1107 (“The more an enterprise is fragmented into discrete firms, the more significant the legal constraints on capital budgeting flexibility.”).

 [214]. For example, Dharmapala and Hebous have found that subsidiary profits tend to cluster around zero. Dhammika Dharmapala & Shafik Hebous, A Bunching Approach to Measuring Multinational Profit Shifting 32 (Working Paper, Oct. 2017). One interpretation is that firms work to move profits out of profitable operating companies. Another interpretation is that many entities are shells, the assets and profits of which are at the whim of the parent company.

 [215]. Any emphasis on non-recourse debt puts our proposal on different footing than efforts to legislatively support covered bonds in the United States. Covered bonds are ordinarily full recourse to the issuer (albeit on an unsecured basis, for the deficiency). See Schwarcz, supra note 93, at 566–67. This full or “double” recourse is part of the appeal for policymakers and investors seeking a safer alternative to securitization. See Judge, supra note 131, at 717. However, non-recourse debt has desirable properties from an asset partitioning perspective. See Squire, supra note 8, at 813–14. Apart from this important distinction, our analysis is supportive of efforts to establish an American covered bond regime.

 [216]. The automatic stay blocks payments to creditors and prevents them from seizing property. 11 U.S.C. § 362 (2012). However, it permits the trustee to make cash payments to creditors when the stay results in a decrease in the value of the property. Id. § 361(1). Courts could construe this provision liberally, recognizing that the value of assets are higher if creditors can be assured uninterrupted payments. This is particularly true where the parties could certainly have circumvented the automatic stay by structuring the transaction as a loan to a subsidiary, which is not part of the debtor’s estate.

 [217]. If an asset is isolated in an entity, creditors on other pools cannot levy on it. U.C.C. § 9-610 (Am. Law Inst. & Unif. Law Comm’n 2010) permits unsecured and deficiency creditors to dispose of collateral even if subject to a senior lien.

 [218]. Some of the literature urges altering security interests to benefit sympathetic claimants. See, e.g., Lucian Arye Bebchuk & Jesse M. Fried, The Uneasy Case for the Priority of Secured Claims in Bankruptcy, 105 Yale L.J. 857, 909 (1996); David W. Leebron, Limited Liability, Tort Victims, and Creditors, 91 Colum. L. Rev. 1565, 1643–46 (1991); Lynn M. LoPucki, The Unsecured Creditor’s Bargain, 80 Va. L. Rev. 1887, 1907–10 (1994); Elizabeth Warren, An Article 9 Set-Aside for Unsecured Creditors, 51 Consumer Fin. L.Q. Rep. 323, 325 (1997). But see Alan Schwartz, A Contract Theory Approach to Business Bankruptcy, 107 Yale L.J. 1807, 1850–51 (1998) (arguing against mandatory and retributive adjustments to party-contracted priority). A similar literature exists for the liability limitations created by entities. Compare Lynn M. LoPucki, The Death of Liability, 106 Yale L.J. 1, 1930 (1996) (arguing that entity structures can be abused to externalize costs), with Stephen M. Bainbridge, Abolishing Veil Piercing, 26 J. Corp. L. 479, 513–35 (2001) (arguing against entity disregard).

 [219]. Elizabeth Warren & Jay Lawrence Westbrook, Contracting Out of Bankruptcy: An Empirical Intervention, 118 Harv. L. Rev. 1197, 1213 (2005) (approximately 70% of the assets of bankrupt commercial debtors are pledged to secured parties).

 [220]. Compare id. (arguing that substantial inefficiencies and costs undermine the case for contractualism in bankruptcy), with Schwartz, supra note 218 (arguing for fewer barriers to free contracting in bankruptcy).

 [221]. See supra note 112 and accompanying text (describing the relative reduction of rights for secured parties post-1978).

 [222].               Richard Holden & Anup Malani, Can Blockchain Solve the Holdout Problem in Contracts? 4 (Univ. Chi. Coase-Sandor Inst. for Law & Econ., Research Paper No. 846, 2017), https://ssrn.com
/abstract=3093879.

 [223]. Id. at 5.

 [224]. Even without legal enforcement, blockchain networks are usually designed to render mechanically impossible any later transactions inconsistent with earlier ones. This feature is often praised as a solution to the double spend problem, in which the same assets are promised as payment to more than one recipient. The double spend problem is a defining feature of contractual priority schemes, in which the same assets can be pledged more than once.

 [225]. See, e.g., Kevin Werbach & Nicolas Cornell, Contracts Ex Machina, 67 Duke L.J. 313, 342 (2017) (arguing that smart contracts illuminate rather than supplant contract law). For analysis of blockchain’s potential effect on other bodies of law, see generally Michael Abramowicz, Cryptoinsurance, 50 Wake Forest L. Rev. 671 (2015); Jon O. McGinnis & Kyle Roche, Bitcoin: Order Without Law in the Digital Age (Northwestern Pub. Law, Research Paper No. 17-06., 2017), https://ssrn.com/abstract=2929133; Alexander Savelyev, Contract Law 2.0: «Smart» Contracts as the Beginning of the End of Classic Contract Law 21 (Nat’l Research Univ. Higher Sch. of Econ., Working Paper No. BRP 71/LAW/2016), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2885241 [https://perma.cc/HS7F-PF3W].

 [226]. On blockchain technology’s encroachment on security interests, see Holden & Malani, supra note 222, at 22.

 [227]. In fact, the term “distributed autonomous organization” (“DAO”) is sometimes used to describe one form of multilateral cooperation through blockchain technology without the use of a legal entity as such. On blockchain technology’s encroachment on entities, see, for example, Carla Reyes, If Rockefeller Were a Coder, 87 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2019), https://ssrn.com/abstract
=3082915 (arguing that some blockchain-based structures are business trusts); Usha R. Rodriques, Law and the Blockchain, 104 Iowa L. Rev. 679 (2019); Nick Tomaino, The Slow Death of the Firm, Control (Oct. 21, 2017), https://thecontrol.co/the-slow-death-of-the-firm-1bd6cc81286b.

 [228]. Holden & Malani, supra note 223, at 21 (describing a diner who cannot spend her savings on dinner on September 29 because it is earmarked for her October 1 rent payment, which is inconvenient because a borrower may be happy to spend her rent money on Friday and plan to earn or borrow more money on Saturday before her debts mature on Sunday—and some landlords will be willing to leave her that latitude).

 

The Delaware Trap: An Empirical Analysis of Incorporation Decisions – Article by Robert Anderson IV

From Volume 91, Number 4 (May 2018)
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The Delaware Trap:
An Empirical Analysis of Incorporation Decisions

Robert Anderson IV[*]

One of the most enduring debates in corporate law centers on why Delaware has become the dominant state in the market for corporate charters. Traditionally, two perspectives dominated the debate, the “racetothetop” perspective that sees competition among states as driving legal rules toward efficiency and the “racetothebottom” perspective that sees competition among states as driving legal rules toward the interests of corporate managers. The two dominant perspectives have struggled to explain why approximately half of large companies incorporate in Delaware, while the other half incorporate in their home states. Whether the choices are attributable to the quality of state law, the characteristics of the companies themselves, or both has given rise to a large, but inconclusive empirical literature.

This Article uses a large dataset of corporate financings to shed new light on this mystery and uncovers strong evidence that some of the strongest factors in incorporation choice are factors unrelated to either the quality of state law or the characteristics of individual companies. Instead, the data strongly suggests that demographic markers of sophistication, such as choice of law firm and headquarters location, predict the jurisdictional incorporation choice approximately as well as state law or the business attributes of companies. Companies with more demographic markers of sophistication tend to choose Delaware incorporation, and companies with fewer demographic markers of sophistication tend to choose home-state incorporation. The finding persists even when other attributes of the company are controlled for, such as its industry classification, the amount of money raised, or whether the company is public or private. Indeed, the sophistication factors arguably predict Delaware incorporation as well or better than any factors documented in the vast literature on state competition for corporate charters.

The findings have important implications for the state “race-to-the-top” debate in corporate law. This Article demonstrates that the choice of legal representation is an important missing variable in models of incorporation decisions, an omission that has resulted in misleading results in some prominent studies. But the fact that the choice of law firm influences the jurisdictional choice has far broader implications. Law firms may steer companies toward states that serve law firms’ own interests, without regard to the quality of legal rules or the needs of the client. When the state chosen is Delaware, as it often is, there are few alternative jurisdictions that shareholders and managers can agree on. As a result, companies inadvertently fall into a “governance trap” from which reincorporation out of state is nearly impossible. This interpretation suggests that Delaware’s carefully calibrated positioning in the charter market has largely eliminated meaningful competition among the states for the quality of corporate law.

Introduction

The organizers of every new business face two foundational legal decisions at the outset of the venture. The first is whether to organize the legal entity as a corporation, a limited liability company, or some other organizational form (the choice of entity decision).[1] The second is whether to organize the business under the laws of the business’s home state or in some other state (the jurisdictional choice decision). The new business is generally free to organize under any legal entity form and under any jurisdiction, regardless of the type of business or the location of its activities.[2] These decisions are made at the inception of the entity’s existence and are generally fixed for the life of the entity.[3]

The organizational choices made early in the life of a business will affect how the company is governed and how it is taxed. The jurisdictional choice decision requires a business’s founders to choose a state in which to organize the entity. This decision will determine which state’s law will apply to the entity’s governance under the “internal affairs doctrine.”[4] The choice of entity decision will determine which provisions of the chosen state’s law will apply to the entity, such as the state’s corporation law or limited liability company act, as well as influence the company’s tax treatment.[5] Each decision carries potentially significant consequences as the choices made dictate the legal regime that governs the relationships among officers, directors, and shareholders (or other equity holders) of the company.[6]

The fact that companies can choose the law that governs them has stimulated one of the most vigorous and active research programs in corporate law. The question of how businesses choose their states of incorporation is central to one of the most enduring and “classic” debates in corporate law—whether allowing businesses a choice among state laws leads to a race for the top or a “race for the bottom.[7] Corporate scholarship generally acknowledges that at least some states compete for incorporation “business” and the franchise fees that incorporation generates, and they compete in part through state corporate laws—the laws governing companies incorporated there.[8] Because at least some states compete to attract incorporations, the identity of those who choose the state of incorporation and the way they choose the state influence the path of corporate law. Thus, the criteria that drive these choices implicate deep questions about the effectiveness of corporate law federalismitself one of the most important unresolved issues in corporate law.[9]

Despite the importance of the choices businesses make and the way in which they make them, scholars still have not uncovered many of the factors that influence the organizational decisions by new businesses. The standard explanation from race-to-the-top theorists (which largely coincides with the standard advice of large-firm lawyers) is that the substantive quality of Delaware’s law, corporate bar, and judiciary accounts for the state’s dominance.[10] A large number of studies have attempted to unravel the factors predicting choice of jurisdiction, mostly using the attributes of companies or the attributes of state law as predictive variables. Yet the variables examined in leading studies fail to account for most of the variation in firms’ choices of where to incorporate.[11]

In addition, the studies have the limitation that they generally focus on public companies (where data is widely available), with less examination of private companies (where data is usually more limited).[12] This focus on public companies obscures the jurisdictional incorporation decision because public companies frequently have made their original jurisdictional choice many years in the past when their attributes were very different.[13] This makes it difficult to unravel the original factors leading to the jurisdictional choice, as those factors often change over time. As a result, scholars and policymakers are left with little reliable information about how companies choose their states of incorporation and, therefore, how the system of corporate federalism works.

This Article breaks new ground on this problem. By exploiting a very large dataset containing a diverse mixture of over 60,000 public and private companies over several years, this Article uncovers strong new evidence about how companies choose states of incorporation. The data are drawn from Securities and Exchange Commission (“SEC”) filings relating to financing transactions by companies. Each data point consists of a financing transaction by a company and includes important information about the company involved, the type of transaction, and certain telltale clues about the sophistication of legal counsel involved in the financing. These financings provide new variables that have not previously been examined and that help to explain the organizational choices of businesses.

The empirical analysis of this database uncovers a set of demographic variables that may be the strongest predictors of businesses’ jurisdictional choices ever documented in the scholarly literature on jurisdictional choice. In particular, the demographic markers of the sophistication of companies, especially legal sophistication, predict the incorporation decision as well as or better than leading predictors identified in existing studies. Companies with more demographic markers of sophistication tend to incorporate in Delaware, while companies with fewer demographic markers of sophistication tend to incorporate in their home states. The data strongly suggest that the sophistication variable is largely related to the sophistication of legal counsel representing the companies, which means that the identity of the company’s law firm, rather than the legal needs of the company itself, may drive the jurisdictional choice. The result is robust to a wide variety of control variables, which suggests that an important, omitted variable lurks behind the scenes in the state incorporation debate.

This Article proceeds in five parts. Part I reviews the theory and background of the debate over what motivates the jurisdictional choice. The Part demonstrates the limited value of existing variables in predicting organizational choicea limitation that has hampered the empirical literature on corporate law. The Part further points out that a number of the existing studies have suggested that a company’s choice of legal counsel might have an important effect on the decision, but have not rigorously analyzed the hypothesis, with the exception of Robert Daines’s important work on initial public offerings.[14]

Part II describes the dataset and lays the groundwork for the analysis by empirically evaluating the conventional wisdom from existing scholarly research. In some cases, the conventional wisdom is confirmed, such as the fact that most companies incorporate either in their home states or in Delaware. In other cases, the conventional wisdom appears to be incorrect, at least when viewed in the context of this broader database, including public and private companies. For example, the incorporation choices of private companies in this dataset largely mirror the choices of public companies, which differs from the assumptions most scholars have about private companies.

Part III presents the empirical analysis of the incorporation decision. The key finding is that the demographic sophistication markersespecially legal sophisticationpredict the state of incorporation as well as or better than any previously documented variables related to the company’s attributes or the law offered by the states. Although sophistication markers correlate with the expected variables, such as the amount of money raised in the financing, they are robust to controls for those other variables and just as powerful as predictors. This Part shows that much of the effect related to sophistication is likely the legal sophistication of company counsel. Indeed, this Part argues that given the limited nature of the proxies used for firm sophistication, it is likely that firm sophistication accounts for the majority of the decisions about where to incorporate.

Part IV interprets these new results. The data lend themselves to two potentially divergent interpretations. One is that companies choose sophisticated or unsophisticated legal counsel; then, sophisticated legal counsel choose Delaware, and unsophisticated counsel choose local incorporation. This interpretation would indicate that law firms are the key mediators of the choice of jurisdiction. The second is that sophisticated companies choose sophisticated counsel and the sophisticated companies also choose Delaware, independently of the counsel. Either explanation has important implications for analyzing the federal system of corporate law. The first would lead to an agency cost interpretation of jurisdiction choice, and the second would suggest that Delaware companies themselves are different from companies in other states, which potentially undermines empirical inferences in existing studies of the value of Delaware law. As the part will demonstrate, the first explanation proves the most persuasive overall, suggesting the choice of law firm is largely determinative of the choice of jurisdiction.

Part V explores the implications of these findings. Regardless of which interpretation from Part IV prevails, the literature on the state “race” debate must account for these new findings. If law firms control the jurisdictional choice decision, this may indicate the ability of law firms to effectively serve clients may be undermined by entrenched patterns of practice that conflict with clients’ needs. If clients are in control of the jurisdictional choice decision, then empirical studies on the value of Delaware law must grapple with the fact that Delaware companies are different from other companies in ways that affect empirical studies of the value of Delaware corporate law. In either case, the system has a built-in inertia favoring Delaware that makes state competition illusory.

I.Theory and Background on the Jurisdictional Choice Debate

One of the most significant debates in corporate law is whether the United States system of corporate law federalism leads to a race to the bottom or a race to the top.[15] Racetothebottom theorists argue that because insiders of companies must initiate incorporation decisions, jurisdictions compete to provide legal rules that favor insiders, allowing them to extract private benefits at the expense of the corporation or its shareholders.[16] Racetothetop theorists argue that market constraints prevent insiders from favoring such jurisdictions and that jurisdictions actually compete to provide efficient legal rules that enhance shareholder value.[17] Although the dichotomous framing as a “race” to the “top” or “bottom” is a bit of an oversimplification of a more nuanced debate,[18] that version of the debate has dominated discussions of corporate law for decades.[19]

The legal framework underpinning the debate is the “internal affairs doctrine,” which is the conflict of law rule that allows companies to choose their own states of incorporation and thereby the corporate law that applies to them, regardless of any connection to the state.[20] The doctrine is so well established that the Supreme Court has come close to constitutionalizing it under the Dormant Commerce Clause.[21] Companies have exercised this choice under the internal affairs doctrine overwhelmingly in favor of the small state of Delaware,[22] leading to the metaphor of a “race” toward Delaware. The dominance of Delaware is manifest whether one looks at Delaware’s share of public companies, initial public offering companies, or companies reincorporating from one state to another.[23] The question is what the identity of the winner, or perhaps the nature of the decision-making process, indicates about the “race.”

Scholars have traditionally approached the problem in two complementary ways. The first approach looks at the results of the “race,” asking whether Delaware law is better or worse than the law of other states. The idea is that if Delaware law is better, then one could plausibly argue that companies are choosing the more efficient law and that the race is to the top.[24] If Delaware law is worse than that of other states, then companies are choosing to maximize something else and the race is to the bottom. The second approach has analyzed the jurisdictional choice question by studying the factors that influence how companies make incorporation choices. In other words, how do companies choose? What characteristics of companies predict the decisions they will make? The idea is that once one knows what influences corporate choices, one has a good idea about what incentives states offer to companies.

The first approach to the problem (whether Delaware corporate law is better or worse than that of other states) has given rise to several empirical studies. Historically, most of those studies fell in one of two categories: (1)reincorporation event studies that analyzed stock price reactions to reincorporation announcements[25] and (2)Tobin’s q[26] studies that analyzed the value of Delaware companies relative to those in other states.[27] The reincorporation event studies have generally suggested a small positive effect of Delaware incorporation, but have drawbacks that limit their persuasiveness.[28] The Tobin’s q studies initially showed positive effects of Delaware law, but also have methodological drawbacks.[29] A more recent entrant to the debate is the “merger reincorporation” approach, which found no evidence of positive or negative value for Delaware law.[30] Overall, more studies suggest a positive value for Delaware incorporation than a negative value, but many suggest no value at all; therefore the results are inconclusive.[31] Thus, there is no definitive evidence that Delaware law increases the value of companies, there is some evidence it does not matter, and there is little evidence that it decreases the value of companies.

The second approach to the problem (what factors predict jurisdictional choice) has given rise to an extensive empirical and theoretical literature as well. Some approaches emphasize the distinction between private and public companies—that Delaware specializes in corporate law for public companies, leading private companies to incorporate in their home states because Delaware law mostly benefits public companies.[32] Others argue the choice depends on whether the shares of the company are closely or widely held, with Delaware tending to attract more widely held firms.[33] Still another approach argues that companies reincorporate in Delaware when they are contemplating certain types of transactions, such as public offerings, mergers and acquisitions, or the enactment of antitakeover provisions.[34]

This last category, antitakeover provisions, has given rise to one of the major contemporary disputes in the Delaware debate—the role of state antitakeover statutes and favorability of the legal environment to management more generally.[35] Some studies assert that companies are more likely to stay in their home states when those states have stronger antitakeover statutes or other provisions favorable to management.[36] Another study found no evidence of any influence of antitakeover statutes at all, instead focusing on corporate flexibility as the attractive feature.[37] Finally, another study found no effect of antitakeover statutes after taking account of the company’s law firm,[38] adumbrating a theme that will become relevant in this Article’s analysis.

In more recent scholarship, theories have developed that sidestep the traditional “race” approach. In particular, one approach that has received a great deal of attention is the idea that network effects strongly influence the choice of jurisdiction.[39] Other theories have explored the idea that managers have heterogeneous preferences, with some preferring “strict law” and some preferring “lax law,” arguing that such heterogeneity is necessary to explain the choices.[40] A third theory argues that Delaware law may serve as a “lingua franca” that allows in-state investors and out-of-state investors to communicate a common set of legal assumptions.[41] Finally, some have argued that the competition is not between Delaware and other states, but between Delaware and federal regulation.[42]

The increasing complexity of the debate over jurisdictional choice has led toward the perspective that the concept of competition or a “race” among states may not be an accurate metaphor for the process at all. Although it is clear that Delaware competes (either with other states or the federal government), some scholars assert that nobody is vigorously competing with Delaware.[43] Indeed, there is a good argument that Delaware’s competitive advantages, some related to the quality of Delaware law and some related to network effects, make it difficult or impossible to compete with Delaware.[44] Thus, theoretical and empirical literatures have failed to come to a consensus about the debate over a race to the top or race to the bottom in corporate law. And that failure is in large part due to a failure to converge on a consensus set of factors that contribute to jurisdictional choice.

But there is another hypothesis that has hovered in the background of most of the existing research without receiving direct focus from most existing studies—the role of law firms in incorporation decisions. There is reason to believe that lawyers play a lead role in the jurisdictional choice decision. Lawyers themselves appear to believe they play such a role, as a survey of initial public offering lawyers strongly suggested.[45] Several studies that examined other factors have expressed the suspicion that lawyers play a key role.[46] This is true even of race-to-the-top proponents, who see a large role for lawyers in the incorporation decision based on the lawyers’ own interests.[47] In particular, several articles have suggested that the local versus national character of law firms may play a role.[48] Indeed, the role of lawyers was specifically identified in the context of initial public offering (“IPO”) decisions by Robert Daines, who suggested that the distinction between local firms versus national firms was an important driving factor.[49]

This Article attempts to untangle the factors that predict firms’ jurisdictional choice decisions, with special attention to this last hypothesis of lawyer prominence in the jurisdictional choice. If the choice of law firm is a prime driver of the incorporation decision, then both approaches to the jurisdictional choice debate discussed above may produce biased results. The literature on jurisdictional choice[50] may produce incorrect results if omitted variables (such as law firm choice) are correlated with the predictors examined and the jurisdictional choice. Additionally, the literature on the value of Delaware law[51] may lead to incorrect conclusions if Delaware companies are simply demographically different from other companies. Thus, the analysis in this Article has potentially significant implications for the state of knowledge on the jurisdictional choice debate and therefore the corporate federalism debate.

The next Part will introduce the data used to examine the predictors of jurisdictional choice. It turns out that lawyers, and specifically the sophistication of lawyers, will play a significant role in this incorporation decision, as discussed in Part III. However, there may be more to the story, as demographic factors related to the company itself also have significant predictive value in the jurisdiction choice. The analysis clarifies that existing studies have overlooked very important factors that influence the choice of state of incorporationfactors that may lead existing studies to draw faulty inferences.

 

II.The Data

This Part describes the novel dataset of financing disclosures developed for this Article’s jurisdictional choice analysis. Section II.A describes the dataset itself and how it was collected. Section II.B conducts an initial analysis of the data, confirms certain well-established findings from the existing literature, and corrects some often-repeated misconceptions. This Part lays the groundwork for the detailed empirical analysis that follows in Part III.

A.The Data Source

This Article draws upon a rich source of reliable information that has been largely ignored by scholars[52]—filings made with the Securities and Exchange Commission under Regulation D.[53] Regulation D is probably the most commonly used exemption from the Securities Act of 1933;[54] it is used for private capital-raising and is relied on by over 10,000 public and private companies each year.[55] Companies raising funds in reliance on Regulation D are required to file a Form D within fifteen days of the first sale of securities.[56] As a result, a large number of the forms have been filed and they are easily accessible on the SEC website, providing a treasure-trove of information. Included in the forms is data on the state of organization of the company, the officers and directors, the amount of money raised, the use of proceeds, and the number and type of investors, as well as the company’s revenue.[57]

The data reveal important information on the organization of private companies not available through other sources. The Form Ds provide a very broad swathe of companies with diverse characteristics, while focusing on the “right type” of private companies for understanding entrepreneurial choices. The private companies are the “right type” because they are engaged in raising external funds (demonstrated by the very nature of filing the Form D, which is triggered by the sale of securities), which largely excludes single-shareholder corporations or wholly owned subsidiaries of other companies for which the quality of corporate law is less important. In addition, Form D filers are also probably better advised than the average company, as they are specifically availing themselves of Regulation D protection.

Another important reason Form D companies are ideal candidates for studying the incorporation choice is that Form D filers are generally in earlier stages than public companies and are therefore closer in time to the original jurisdictional choice.[58] As a result, these companies have not transitioned to the “separation of ownership and control” model that characterizes public companies in the famous Berle-Means paradigm.[59] That is important because the separation of ownership and control creates agency problems between managers and shareholders that complicate the incorporation decision, which is why some of the best studies have examined IPO firms rather than seasoned public companies.[60] The use of private, pre-IPO companies is even better because it comes at a stage even earlier in the company’s evolution and closer to the original incorporation decision. The Form D dataset therefore bridges the truly private companies in previous studies[61] (which may tend to have a large number of single-shareholder corporations) and the public companies that have been the focus of almost all of the literature on jurisdictional choices.

The Form D dataset also contains a seemingly mundane detail that turns out to have strong predictive value. The Form D asks for information about the filing company’s revenue, which one would expect to have important predictive value for Delaware incorporation (and it does). However, the mundane detail is that companies are permitted to “decline to disclose” this revenue information simply by checking a box on the form. Remarkably, almost half of the companies that file the form disclose this information, even though they are not required to. As discussed in Parts III and IV, this detail turns out to hold significant predictive value for the jurisdiction choiceas strong as many of the predictive variables documented in the existing literature. Companies that decline to disclose their revenue signal information about the sophistication of their legal counsel, and that sophistication predicts incorporation choices.

The data were collected from the SEC’s EDGAR system.[62] A computer script collected all Form D filings from EDGAR’s indices to filings[63] filed between July 1, 2009 and June 30, 2016.[64] The collection process yielded 270,300 total filings, including 160,648 original Form D filings and 109,652 amendment filings, representing filings by 108,830 distinct companies.[65] The script extracted all items of information from each form using the form’s XML tags. In some cases, companies filed more than one Form D during the period. The script retained only the earliest filed form because that form is closest in time to the company’s organization (and therefore its jurisdictional choice).

The dataset excludes a number of filings that are not relevant to the questions addressed in this Article. The dataset excludes data for all firms located or incorporated outside the United States, which have a different set of organizational choices and considerations than do U.S. firms. In addition, because the focus is on operating businesses rather than funds, the dataset excludes firms classified as “Pooled Investment Funds,” which include hedge funds, private equity funds, venture capital funds, and mutual funds.[66] The above restrictions (particularly the elimination of pooled investment funds and multiple filings by the same firm) greatly reduced the overall size of the dataset to 63,369 total entries, each of which is a distinct legal entity.

The data contained in the Form D filings yielded a number of variables related to the companies making the filings. Specifically, the dataset includes the state and zip code of each company’s “principal place of business” (headquarters). Similarly, the dataset contains a field for the state of incorporation, type of entity (for example, corporation or LLC) and date of organization. The dataset records the number of executive officers and directors of the company and the extent of the overlap between the two. The dataset includes a variable for whether the company was a reporting company under the Securities Exchange Act of 1934[67] (a “public” company).[68] The dataset also includes a variable for the broad industry category of the company’s business. For about half of the companies, the approximate revenue of the company is disclosed (more about this variable below). Finally, the dataset contains a variable for whether the company was organized within the last five years or more than five years ago.

The Form D filings also contained many useful variables related to the financing transaction for which the form was filed. These variables include the dollar amount of securities offered and sold, the number of investors, the type of securities offered, the amount of “sales compensation” paid to brokers and finders, if any, and the amount of the offering used as payments to executive officers, directors, or promoters. In addition, the dataset includes some legal variables related to the financing; specifically, the Rule relied on under Regulation D (Rule 504, 505, or 506) and the type of investors in the offering (accredited or non-accredited investors).[69]

Finally, the dataset includes three pieces of information that serve as proxies for the legal sophistication of the issuer or its counsel. First, the dataset records whether the issuer checked the “Decline to Disclose” box for its revenue. The issuer is not required to disclose its revenue and there is generally no reason to do so. Yet, as is discussed below, about half of all companies do disclose their revenue range, most likely out of unfamiliarity with prevailing financing practices followed by major firms. Second, the dataset also includes a “pure” proxy for the legal sophistication of the party preparing the form: the use of conformed signatures[70] in the signature block. Conformed signatures have no business or financial significance in the offering, but are markers for lawyers steeped in “deal culture,” where they are commonly used in electronic filings by public companies. Third, Form D contains a box for “minimum [amount of] investment accepted from any outside investor.[71] Counsel that are experienced in filing Form Ds tend to enter zero in this line when the investment has been completed at the time of filing.

B.Comparing the Data with Results from Existing Literature

The dataset described above contains a rich source of information about tens of thousands of companies. In theory, analyzing this data to uncover the factors that drive firms’ jurisdictional choice decisions could be very complex. A company’s choice of jurisdiction potentially entails the pairwise comparison of fifty states’ corporate statutesa total of 1,225 individual state-to-state comparisons along potentially hundreds of relevant factors. In practice, however, the choices appear to be driven by very simplistic heuristics. The existing literature strongly suggests that, at least for publicly traded companies,[72] and venture-backed companies,[73] the vast majority of businesses organize either in the jurisdiction in which they are located or in Delaware. Moreover, a 2011 paper has largely confirmed this pattern with respect to private companies as well.[74]

The data collected in this Article provide strong support for the pattern that incorporation choices are limited to Delaware versus home state incorporation, at least for private companies. As set forth in Table 1 below, overall, 94.3% of private corporations in the dataset incorporated either in Delaware or their respective home state.[75] The picture for public corporations is a bit more complicated, with only 69.6% incorporated in Delaware or the home state. The primary reason for this difference is the incursion of Nevada into the public company market, with 22.3% of all “public” corporations incorporating in Nevada. For a variety of reasons, the Nevada phenomenon is not as significant as it appears. First, most of the Nevada companies are essentially shell companies with no significant operations.[76] Second, a larger study of public corporations found a significantly lower figure of an 8% share for companies incorporated in Nevada.[77] When Nevada corporations are excluded, the ratio of Delaware to headquarters state incorporations is very similar for public and private corporations—about two to one.

Table 1.State of Incorporation by Public or Private Status

Furthermore, the table makes clear that the state incorporation decision is not the result of a comprehensive, fifty-state survey of corporate law, but rather a choice between Delaware incorporation and home-state incorporation, with a Nevada option for certain types of public companies. These results for public companies largely mirror the results from the existing literature.

The results contrast sharply with the existing literature, however, in terms of Delaware’s share of private companies. The conventional wisdom is that Delaware has a much lower share of total incorporations among private companies than among public companies and that a “dominance by a single state exists only for publicly held firms in the U.S. federal system,”[78] as “the market for closely held firms looks quite different from the market for publicly held firms.”[79] Indeed, an influential article by Marcel Kahan and Ehud Kamar makes the private company preference for homestate incorporation a key piece of an argument about Delaware’s pricing scheme for corporations.[80]

There had not been much empirical investigation of this assertion about private companies until an article by Jens Dammann and Matthias Schündeln collected data on private companies’ incorporation choices.[81] Using a new data set, the authors found results supporting this conventional wisdom: the vast majority of privately held corporations incorporated where they were located, not in Delaware.[82] Indeed, corporations in their dataset were only more likely to incorporate in Delaware than elsewhere when the companies were very large (over 5,000 employees).[83]

The data from Table 1, however, indicate that private companies’ incorporation choices are not much different from those of public companies when Nevada is excluded. Privately held companies that file Form D incorporate in Delaware in proportions similar to publicly traded companies. Indeed, even the small differences evident in Table 1 mostly disappear when other variables are controlled, as the more detailed analysis in Part III demonstrates. What accounts for the conventional wisdom’s assumption of a dramatic difference between private and public companies’ jurisdictional choices? The conventional wisdom was based on comparing one type of private company against a very different type of public company. The private company data often included very small companies that had not recruited outside investors, whereas public companies, by their nature, had recruited outside investors.[84] When the same selection process is used for public and private companies, even a process as non-substantive as the filing of a Form D, those differences largely disappear.

The results of this analysis are actually quite surprising given the current state of research on privately held corporations. On one hand, corporate lawyers have known for a long time that the majority of publicly traded companies incorporate in Delaware. On the other hand, until recently, there was little evidence of where privately held companies incorporated. The conventional wisdom about private companies making different incorporation decisions made sense given the assumption that the governance attributes of the company drive the jurisdictional choice decision. After all, public companies and private companies often face different corporate law problems. But it turns out that in the Form D dataset, public and private companies choose similar governance regimes. This fact is the first hint from the data that the assumptions about incorporation choices are flawed and that company-specific needs may not actually dictate the incorporation choice. These questions are the focus of the detailed empirical analysis of Part III and the interpretation of Part IV.

III.Empirical Analysis

The preliminary results identified in Part II suggest that some of the assumptions about how companies make incorporation decisions may merit revisiting. This Part uses empirical analysis of the novel Form D dataset to identify the variables that predict Delaware incorporation. Section II.A describes the methodology used in the analysis. Section II.B presents the main results. The analysis uncovers some novel predictors of the Delaware incorporation choice that existing scholarship has overlooked.

A.Methodology

The discussion above has shown that the relevant choice facing firms is between Delaware incorporation and homestate incorporation. Accordingly, to model the jurisdictional choice, a dichotomous choice modelsuch as logistic regression[85]is appropriate to model the choice between Delaware incorporation and other-state incorporation.[86] The dependent variable in the logistic regression is equal to one if Delaware is the jurisdiction of incorporation and zero otherwise.[87]

The independent variables break down into three broad sets of predictors: (1) “business” predictors; (2) “legal” predictors; and (3) “demographic” predictors. The business predictors are the industry category, the dollar amount of securities sold, the type of security sold, whether the company has independent (non-officer) directors, the number of investors, the company’s revenue range, and whether the company is a public company. The legal predictors are the specific rule exemption relied on within Regulation D, the “Decline to Disclose” checkbox, the use of conformed signatures in the signature block, whether securities may be sold to only to accredited investors, and whether the “minimum investment amount” is listed as zero.[88] The demographic predictors are the mean income in the company’s zip code from Internal Revenue Service (“IRS”) data[89] and whether the company is more than five years old. Finally, indicator variables for the state location of the company’s headquarters are used in some of the models. This last variable straddles the line between a “legal” variable and a “demographic” variable, as more fully discussed below.

The “legal” variables merit some additional explanation. The “Decline to Disclose” and “conformed signatures” variables are both proxies for the unknown identity of the company’s legal advisors. As discussed in Section II.A,[90] the Form D filing requests the issuer to disclose the range of its revenue, but allows the issuer to “Decline to Disclose” the information simply by checking a box. There is no penalty for not providing the information,[91] and the voluntary inclusion of information in this context typically would not serve the issuer’s interests.[92] Large national law firms generally automatically check “Decline to Disclose” as a matter of best practice.[93] Yet about half of companies disclose their revenue, suggesting their counsel are unfamiliar with or reject these best practices. As a result, the checking of this box is a reliable proxy for the “deal culture” sophistication of the law firm that handled the financing.

The “conformed signatures” variable is included as an even purer measure of “deal culture,” as its use literally has no business implications. Lawyers in national practices, particularly those who regularly file electronic reports with the SEC, routinely use “conformed signatures” in documents filed with the SEC and are likely to be familiar with the custom. Under half of the Form D filings contain a conformed signature in the signature block, but those that did were much more likely to “Decline to Disclose” as shown in Table 2 below. The upper-left corner denotes the 9,681 filings that show both hallmarks of deal culture sophistication, and the lower right shows the 6,767 that show neither hallmark of deal culture sophistication. It is clear that filers using conformed signatures are much more likely to decline to disclose than those who do not use conformed signatures, and that filers who decline to disclose are much more likely to use conformed signatures than those who do not decline to disclose.[94] In other words, the two measures of sophistication are correlated, although certainly not perfectly so.

Table 2.Two Markers for Deal Culture Sophistication in Corporations

These measures are designed to have little substantive connection with the nature of the business or with each other, but to have a significant connection with the culture of legal advisors. They are intended to serve only as “markers,” or proxies, for the unobservable identity of the company’s legal advisors. To be clear, it need not be the case that the upper left box is “correct” legal practice and the lower right box “incorrect.” All that is necessary is that the measures serve as proxies for the characteristics of the legal advisors involved in representing the company.

The variables used in the analysis in Section III.B are collected together in Table 3, below, together with descriptive statistics.

 

Table 3.Descriptive Statistics (Corporations)

The descriptive statistics in Table 3 reveal some interesting patterns. Some of the legal variables divide the companies roughly in half. For example, although most companies check the “Decline to Disclose” box, nearly 40% unnecessarily disclose the company’s revenue. Similarly, about half of the companies use conformed signatures and about half do not. In contrast, almost all of the filings relied on Rule 506 of Regulation D, with Rules 504 and 505 rarely serving as the basis for the securities offering.[95] Similarly, almost all of the offerings were limited to accredited investors, with only about 10% including other investors. Thus, there are some legal hallmarks of sophistication present in virtually all filings, while other markers of sophistication divide the companies roughly in half. As will be discussed in Section III.B, that half-and-half division of markers of legal sophistication will largely predict the incorporation choice of the companies.

B.Results

The results of the main analysis are presented in Table 4, below. Table 4 presents the results of five models, which test the sets of variables individually and then together. In each model, Delaware incorporation is the dependent variable. Model 1 presents the results of the regression with only the “legal” variables. Model 2 presents the results of the regression with the demographic variables added (logged zip code average income and age of company). Model 3 presents the results of the regression with only the business variables (logged dollar amount sold, industry category, type of security sold, presence of independent, non-executive-officer directors, logged number of investors, and revenue range). Model 4 presents the full model with all of the above variable categories included.

The models are designed to show the effects of the three sets of variables (“legal,” “legal and demographic,” and “business” variables) separately for comparison purposes, and then together with full control variables. Model 5 adds headquarters state dummy variables, which are designed to capture any residual state-by-state effects, as discussed in more detail in Section III.B.4.

In the table, variables with positive coefficients (the first number in each box) are associated with an increased probability of Delaware incorporation compared to home-state incorporation. Numbers with negative coefficients are associated with a decreased probability of Delaware incorporation. So, for example, in Model 1 all legal variables are associated with an increased probability of Delaware incorporation, except variables “Rule 504” and “Rule 505,” which are associated with a decreased probability of Delaware incorporation. The stars next to the coefficients denote the level of statistical significance (if any) for each variable, with one star indicating the traditional 5% level and additional stars indicating higher levels of statistical significance.

Table 4.Logistic Regression Analysis of Jurisdictional Choice Decision Dependent Variable: Delaware Incorporation

 

1.Legal Variables

Table 4 shows the strong predictive value of the legal variables on Delaware incorporation. The Decline to Disclose variable is strongly predictive by itself in Model 1 and remains strongly predictive (albeit with a smaller coefficient) when all control variables are introduced in Model 4. Companies that decline to disclose their revenue are much more likely to incorporate in Delaware. Even controlling for all other variables in Model 5, companies that decline to disclose revenue have almost twice the odds of other companies of incorporating in Delaware.[96]

In addition to the Decline to Disclose variable, the other “legal” variables were also highly significant. The use of conformed signatures predicted an increased rate of Delaware incorporation, although not as strongly as Decline to Disclose. Reliance on either Rule 504 or 505 is associated with less sophisticated offerings and predicts a lower probability of Delaware incorporation. Reliance on Rule 506 is associated with more sophisticated offerings and predicts a higher probability of Delaware incorporation. Limiting the offering to accredited investors, also typical of more sophisticated offerings, is strongly associated with Delaware incorporation in all models. Likewise, a minimum investment amount of zero strongly predicts Delaware incorporation.

In short, there is clearly a cluster of legally sophisticated offerings in which Delaware incorporation is very likely and a diffuse group of other, less sophisticated offerings in which Delaware incorporation is less likely. To give a sense for how much predictive power the legal variables have, note that among the 6,911 filings in which all markers for legal sophistication were present (“Decline to Disclose” checked, conformed signatures used, Rule 506 used, accredited investors only, and minimum investment amount of zero), the rate of Delaware incorporation was 84.1%. In contrast, among this group, the next highest state (California) had only a 3.8% share. In the 515 offerings in which no markers for legal sophistication were present, the rate of Delaware incorporation was 18.9%. But in this latter category of unsophisticated offerings, the next highest state (California) nearly equals Delaware’s share of incorporations, with 16.7%. Thus, in the most sophisticated offerings, Delaware incorporation is virtually always used, while in the least sophisticated offerings, Delaware incorporation is present less than 20% of the time.

2.Demographic Variables

The addition of the two demographic variables in Model 2 substantially increases the predictive power of the model. Companies incorporated in lower-income zip codes incorporate in Delaware in much smaller proportions than companies in higher-income zip codes. The 1,358 companies headquartered in zip codes with average incomes less than $50,000 incorporated in Delaware at a 45% rate. The 5,704 companies headquartered in zip codes with average incomes greater than $200,000 incorporated in Delaware at an 80% rate. As discussed below,[97] the fact that Delaware incorporation is closely tied to geography (independently of state lines) has important implications for empirical studies of corporate law.

The age of the corporation (greater than or less than five years old) also affects the probability of Delaware incorporation. Older companies are less likely to be incorporated in Delaware (48%) than newer ones (68%). This effect is considerably less than the average income of the zip code, but still significant.

The inclusion of demographic variables does not substantially weaken the effects of the legal variables. Indeed, the effects of a few of the legal variables are slightly strengthened by inclusion of the demographic variables. This is important because it shows that the legal sophistication variables are not simply picking up demographic features of the corporations (measured by zip code income). The legal variables and the demographic variables each strongly predict the incorporation choice, even when the other group is controlled.

3.Business Variables

The conventional wisdom about incorporation choices suggests that business variables would influence the choice of Delaware incorporation and indeed most of them do. For example, as the total dollar amount of securities sold increases, the rate of Delaware incorporation increases, and as the company’s revenue increases, the rate of Delaware incorporation increases.[98] In general, as the type of security sold becomes more complex, the rate of Delaware incorporation increases, with almost all forms of convertible securities, options, or warrants tending to predict Delaware incorporation, and the simple description of equity” or “debt” tending to predict incorporation in other states.[99] As the number of investors in the offering increases, the rate of Delaware incorporation increases, consistent with the general notion that Delaware law is favorable to more widely held companies.

The presence of non-management directors on the board (independent directors) is also predictive of Delaware incorporation. In the context of private companies, non-management directors likely signal outside investors with board seats. Companies likely have outside investors with board seats when the company has received a professional investment round, such as from a venture capital fund.

Finally, the industry group is strongly connected to Delaware incorporation, with technology, pharmaceuticals, and computer companies tending to incorporate in Delaware at much higher rates than more traditional industries. The previous literature had not established this finding either in general,[100] or in private companies specifically.[101] The strong predictive value of these industries toward Delaware incorporation is likely because venturecapitalbacked companies tend to favor Delaware incorporation among portfolio companies.[102]

The most surprising result in the business variables section is that the “Public Company” variable, however, does not correlate with Delaware incorporation. Public companies in the dataset are no more likely to incorporate in Delaware than are private companies. The proportion of public and private companies incorporated in Delaware companies are almost identical when other variables are controlled. This result is surprising because many commentators have argued or assumed that Delaware corporate law is calibrated to the needs of public companies.[103]

4.Effect of State Law

Model 5 includes dummy variables for the headquarters location of the companies in the fifty states or the District of Columbia. The inclusion of statefixed effects is designed to capture any residual effect of state legal environments. If, as many existing studies argue, differences among state laws influence the choice to incorporate in Delaware, then these variables would pick up those effects. This is because, as established in Part II, the incorporation choice is between Delaware and the headquarters state, so the relative attractiveness of Delaware and the headquarters state will be measured by the coefficient on the headquarters state. If a state has an unfavorable corporate legal environment, it will have a positive coefficient (pushing companies toward Delaware). If a state has a favorable corporate legal environment, it will have a negative coefficient (pulling companies away from Delaware).

The effect of the state dummy variables is relatively modest, casting doubt on state corporate law as a significant driver of jurisdictional choice. Although many states have highly significant coefficients, the overall effect of the headquarters state indicator variables is far less than the legal sophistication variables or the demographic variables. This indicates that once other relevant variables have been controlled, the headquarters state loses much of its predictive power. In addition, the effect of several states commonly cited in existing literature is eliminated or even reversed when the other variables are controlled. For example, California is often described in many studies as a state companies flee from because of its corporate law.[104] But when the other variables are controlled, California companies are actually slightly more likely to incorporate instate than companies in other states, suggesting these prior studies’ findings showing state law effects were merely reflecting legal sophistication and demographic variables.[105]

This is important because, as discussed more fully in Part V, many studies of incorporation choice use headquarters state law as a predictive variable on the assumption that the headquarters state effect reflects the good or bad state corporate law. To the extent that the other predictors introduced in this study (especially zip code income) reduce the predictive power of state identifiers, state law characteristics may have been confounded with other demographic characteristics in prior studies, accounting for those prior studies’ purported state law effects.

C.Comparison to the Entity Choice Decision

The empirical analysis above shows the strong effect of legal sophistication and demographic variables in the jurisdictional choice decision, an effect at least as strong as the business variables. It is possible, however, that the business variables are imperfectly controlled and the truly explanatory business variables are correlated with the legal variables. In such a case, the legal variables might simply reflect a spurious relationship actually based on the business variables with which they are correlated.

In order to address this possibility, Section III.C performs the same analysis of the same variables on the other organizational choice—the choice of entity between a corporation and another entity (such as a LLC). The choice of entity is made at the same time as the choice of jurisdiction and should involve many of the same factors as the choice of jurisdiction. If the legal and demographic variables in Table 4 merely reflected unmeasured business variables, then an analysis of the choice of entity form should reflect this same pattern. However, as Table 5 shows, the predictors of entity choice differ sharply from the predictors of jurisdictional choice.

Because the choice of entity is largely between a corporation, limited liability company, or other entity, this choice is also modeled as a logistic regression, with the choice of “Corporation” as one and LLC or other entity as zero. The results are set forth in Table 5, below. Like the analysis underlying Table 4, in Table 5, variables with positive coefficients are associated with an increased probability of a corporation entity choice. Numbers with negative coefficients are associated with a decreased probability of a corporation entity choice.

Table 5.Logistic Regression Analysis of Entity Choice Decision Dependent Variable: Corporation

 

The results for the choice of entity are very different from those for the choice of jurisdiction, with different sets of variables playing more or less important roles than in the jurisdictional choice decision. In Table 5, the business variables are clearly dominant, with the demographic and legal variables playing relatively minor roles. Model 3, which includes only the business variables, is clearly more explanatory than Model 1 (legal variables) or Model 2 (legal and demographic variables), and nearly as good as the full Model (Model 5). The most important single variable is the industry category, which predicts the corporation versus LLC decision quite well, whereas industry category predicts the Delaware versus non-Delaware decision only modestly.

The legal variables, in contrast, do not predict the organizational choice well. Although the legal variables are significant in Model 1, they do not predict organizational choice nearly as well as jurisdictional choice. In addition, several of them lose significance, or even reverse sign, when control variables are added in Model 4 and Model5. In the jurisdictional choice results, the legal variables were robust to the introduction of all control variables. Similarly, the main demographic variable, zip code income, has only a weak predictive effect on the entity choice, whereas it had a very strong influence over the jurisdictional choice.

Overall, comparing the two tables demonstrates that the choice of jurisdiction (Delaware versus home state) is strongly associated with legal sophistication and demographic factors, whereas the choice of entity is strongly associated with business factors (particularly industry category). These results largely negate the objection that weaknesses in the business controls in the jurisdictional choice analysis account for the influence of the legal and demographic variables over firms’ jurisdictional choice decisions. Companies make the two decisions (jurisdictional choice and entity choice) at the same time, and the decisions have similar effects, so the difference in predictors is notable. Part IV will interpret these results and attempt to explain the causal factors that likely underlie the jurisdictional choice decision.

D.Potential Biases of Variables

The limitations of data available for this study introduce certain statistical considerations that should be discussed. Some of these tend to strengthen the main results presented above and some suggest caution in interpretation of those results.

1.The Legal Sophistication Variables

The measures of legal sophistication used in this analysis are admittedly crude and incomplete. They are proxies for firm sophistication and derive from a small number of details in a particular type of SEC filing. As a result, the legal sophistication variables likely only produce a noisy proxy for the actual sophistication of legal counsel handling the filing. Furthermore, because the Form D is sometimes filed years after the company’s organization, in some cases the law firm handling the Form D filing may not be the law firm that advised the company when it organized. This further attenuates the link between the Form D filing measures of sophistication and the original incorporation decision. Each of these factors creates statistical noise in the measures of legal sophistication.

However, the fact that the legal sophistication measures produced strong results in the presence of noise actually strengthens the results. The noisiness of the predictors suggests that the true size of the legal sophistication effect is larger—possibly much larger—than the analysis in Section III.B suggests. This is because noisy predictor variables produce attenuation bias, which biases the coefficients toward zero.[106] In other words, it is possible that the legal sophistication variables are more predictive, even far more predictive, than the results presented in Section III.B suggest. In contrast, the business variables, although possibly incomplete, are measured directly and with greater precision. Thus, it is likely that the legal and demographic variables play an even larger role than the figures suggest.

2.Other Variables and “Fit” Issues

In addition to finding important new predictors—legal sophistication and demographics—this study found different effects from certain variables than those identified in the existing literature. One reason that other studies have found different explanatory power in their variables for Delaware incorporation is likely because of the samples used. Most prior studies used data derived exclusively from public companies. While another prior study used data derived exclusively from venture-capitalbacked companies.[107] In those cases, the study’s data represented a relatively narrow slice of somewhat homogenous companies. The data in this study derives from a single source: Form D filings. Although Form D filings are more diverse than either public companies or venture-capital-backed companies, they too exclude certain types of companies (those not raising outside funds in particular).

Because different studies rely on different slices of companies, there is the potential for a restriction of range in interpreting the relative explanatory power of competing studies. For this and other reasons, measures of “fit” cannot be directly compared between studies. Furthermore, because many of the companies in this study are private, a smaller number of business variables are available as predictors than in studies of public companies. Therefore, it is possible that the business predictors would take on greater significance in the jurisdictional choice if data were available. It is also possible, however, that the legal and demographic characteristics would take on greater significance if better data were available for those predictors.

E.Summary

This Part’s analysis has shown the importance of jurisdictional choice predictors that have gone unnoticed in much of the existing literature. In particular, a company’s legal sophistication and its demographic characteristics explain the jurisdictional decision as well as the business factors, such as the size of the offering, the size of the company, the number of investors, and the type of industry. These new factors in the jurisdictional choice decision pose interpretive challenges (for example, why do legal sophistication and zip code income predict jurisdictional choice?). These challenges are taken up in Part IV, below. These findings also have important implications for studies of the jurisdictional choice decision and therefore corporate law in general, as taken up in Part V.

IV.Interpretation

The results from Part III demonstrate a clear relationship between the sophistication of a company’s legal representation and the jurisdictional choice decision. They also show a clear relationship between zip code demographics and jurisdictional choice. However, no matter how strong the correlation between the two variables, the causal relationship may not reflect that statistical correlation, due to endogeneity or other factors. For example, there may be a confounding variable that leads companies to choose sophisticated counsel and also to choose Delaware incorporation. Similarly, there may be a confounding variable that causes both demographics and jurisdictional choice. In these cases, there could be a relationship between sophisticated counsel or demographics and Delaware incorporation without the sophisticated counsel or demographics playing a causal role in the Delaware incorporation choice.

To the extent that such other factors are controlled in the regression, they would not undermine the causal relationship between lawyers and Delaware incorporation. For example, companies raising larger amounts of money may be more likely to use sophisticated counsel, headquarter in wealthier zip codes, and incorporate in Delaware, independently of their counsel or zip code. But the amount of money raised is controlled in the regression, so that effect would not account for the results. However, if there are factors that are not effectively controlled that contribute to sophisticated counsel, zip code demographics, and Delaware incorporation, then the causal relationship between the predictors and Delaware incorporation would be undermined.

This Part attempts to interpret the results in light of these considerations. Section IV.A addresses the interpretation that lawyers themselves are the primary causal agents of the incorporation decision. Section IV.B addresses the interpretation that “Delaware companies are just different,” which is possibly suggested by the effect of zip code demographics. As will be described in Part V, either explanation has important (but different) implications for the study of corporate law federalism, implications that the existing literature has not explored in light of these results.

A.Lawyers as the Causal Agents

The most straightforward interpretation of the results is that more sophisticated lawyers choose Delaware incorporation for their clients and less sophisticated lawyers choose local (home state) incorporation for their clients. This explanation would treat lawyers themselves as the causal agents in the jurisdiction choice decision, an explanation that meshes well with the intuition of many previous studies, as well as much of the existing evidence.

The magnitude of the legal sophistication predictors, especially when compared to more traditional predictors, such as offering size, indicates that legal counsel has a strong influence in the incorporation decision. Indeed, as discussed above,[108] there are reasons to believe the legal sophistication of the companies or their counsel have even stronger predictive value than the results suggest. This is because the legal sophistication predictors used in the Model are, at best, very imperfect predictors of law firm sophistication. Because these measures of sophistication capture only a small part of the variation among lawyers (indeed, only a small part of the variation in terms of lawyer sophistication), it is likely that the actual effect of lawyers is larger. It is also likely that some of the other variables, such as those contained in the “business” category, are actually correlated with the choice of lawyers, which then influences the choice of jurisdiction.[109] Thus, the influence of lawyers is probably significantly greater than even the numbers in this study suggest.

The interpretation that lawyers drive the process of jurisdictional choice is supported by comparing Table 4 with Table 5. The legal sophistication and demographic variables have much less predictive power in Table 5 (choice of entity) than they do in Table 4 (choice of jurisdiction). Indeed, some of them even switch direction in Table 5 depending on what other variables are controlled, while they are all consistently in the same direction in every Model in Table 4. The reason for the difference between the two is likely that there are solid business reasons for choosing a corporation or an LLC, such that the same legal advisor could recommend a corporation to one client and an LLC to another. In contrast, the business reasons for choosing one state versus another are more difficult to explain. After all, in the traditional “racetothetop” or “racetothebottom” formulation, all companies should choose one state regardless of characteristics. Yet that does not play out according to the data. Rather, Part III’s analysis strongly suggests that jurisdictional choice is driven more by legal “culture” and demographics than by the client’s business needs.[110]

The legal sophistication interpretation also helps to explain why this study found similar proportions of Delaware incorporation between public and private companies, whereas another study found dramatically lower rates of Delaware incorporation among private companies.[111] This is because the mere filing of a Form D, which is a quintessentially legal task, skews the pool in this dataset toward sophistication of counsel. If sophisticated counsel, in turn, steer companies toward Delaware incorporation, then it makes sense that this study found much higher rates of Delaware incorporation. The fact that one observes higher rates of Delaware incorporation in this more legally sophisticated pool further bolsters the interpretation that counsel play a pivotal role.

This interpretation that lawyers play an important, even pivotal, role in decisions about where to incorporate meshes with the untested intuition in many existing articles.[112] For example, Bebchuk and Cohen hypothesized that the identity of the law firm might be an important factor in the company’s incorporation choices.[113] The same picture emerges when IPO lawyers are asked about their role in the jurisdictional choice.[114] The survey revealed that most lawyers recommend either Delaware or the state where the lawyers practiced and one reason given was that the lawyers are not familiar with the law of other states.[115] Another reason given was that the lawyers believed financial markets prefer Delaware incorporation.[116] In each of these accounts, it is clear that lawyers believe that they are an important determinant of the incorporation choice, even if they are attempting to reflect the perceived preferences of others.

There are two other studies, however, that foreshadowed the results of this Article. In the first, John Coates examined the role of lawyers in the implementation of takeover defenses in IPO firms.[117] He found that IPO firms adopted takeover defenses “primarily based on the takeover experience of the corporate lawyers working for the company at the time of the IPO.”[118] The effects were so strong that he found “[t]he characteristics of the lawyers working on the IPO were more predictive of defenses being adopted (or not adopted) than were testable company characteristics, such as a company’s size, location, or industry.”[119] This Article’s analysis shows that the exact same thing is true of a company’s incorporation decision.

In the second study, Robert Daines examined the role of lawyers in the jurisdiction choice of IPO companies.[120] Daines’s study examined the very relationship analyzed in this paper (for a different set of companies) and persuasively demonstrated that IPO lawyers are largely responsible for incorporation decisions.[121] Indeed, like Coates, Daines found that lawyer identity was a better predictor than other variables.[122] The results in this Article are a strong validation of Daines’s conclusions from fifteen years ago.

Thus, there is strong evidence that lawyers are, in fact, the causal agent that drives much of the incorporation decision. Still, however strongly the legal sophistication variables point toward a causal effect of counsel for the company, endogeneity in the form of a confounding variable is always a concern in observational studies.[123] Indeed, the strong influence of the demographic variable of zip code income suggests a potential confounder. Accordingly, an alternative interpretation is discussed below.

B.Delaware Companies Are Just Different

The Analysis in Part III controls for many variables related to each company that might explain the choice of jurisdiction. But it is impossible to ensure that all variables have been controlled, and it is possible that a different causal mechanism is responsible for the results. In particular, it is possible that a confounding variable, such as the sophistication of the company itself, is responsible for the results.[124] One could imagine that especially sophisticated or ambitious companies might choose Delaware on their own initiative[125] and also (independently) choose sophisticated law firms.[126] In that case, the choice of firm would not cause the choice of Delaware, but the results might look like those obtained in Part III.

The interpretation that Delaware companies may differ from other companies is supported by the strong connection between higher-income zip codes and Delaware incorporation. Zip code is a strong predictor of many types of outcomes, ranging from mortality[127] to teen birth rate[128] to the use of seatbelts.[129] Yet in such cases it usually is not plausible that location itself caused the outcome, only that an unobserved characteristic of residents of the zip code has a causal effect. It is possible that such companies choose Delaware and sophisticated law firms for similar (unobserved) reasons, but without one decision causing the other.

It is important to note that the strong predictive value of income in the zip code does not necessarily mean that legal counsel does not drive the incorporation choice. It is likely that companies located in more affluent zip codes tend to choose more expensive national law firms and that those national law firms are more likely to recommend Delaware incorporation. Therefore, it is possible that the zip code variable is simply absorbing the unmeasured sophistication of the law firm, since the law firm sophistication measures are inexact, as discussed above.[130]

Finally, if Delaware companies themselves really are different and that difference accounts for both the Decline to Disclose and Delaware outcomes, then the results suggest a tremendous irony. The companies reveal more about themselves by “declining to disclose” than they would have by disclosing. The SEC’s decision to allow companies to decline to disclose information about their revenue range ended up revealing far more about the companies than the revenue range would have. This raises the question of whether voluntary disclosure of other things could reveal information about companies.

Thus, this second interpretation, one that focuses on company sophistication, rather than law firm sophistication, as the causal factor, may warrant further study. One important reason is that if Delaware companies are demographically and behaviorally different from other companies, then quantitative studies of the value of Delaware law based on stock prices may have significant bias.[131]

C.Other Interpretations

There are a few other potential interpretations of the relationship between the legal sophistication variables and Delaware incorporation. Unlike the two interpretations in Sections IV.A and IV.B, each of these alternative interpretations lacks strong support, but are sufficiently appealing at a surface level to warrant discussion.

First, one might argue that “Decline to Disclose” is just a proxy for very large revenue, which in turn might itself drive Delaware incorporation. As Table 4 demonstrates (and conventional wisdom would suggest), larger companies are more likely to incorporate in Delaware, so perhaps Decline to Disclose companies have high revenue and that high revenue causes Delaware incorporation rather than legal sophistication. This interpretation does not fit well with the data, however. Among companies that did disclose revenue, the amount of funds raised closely tracks the revenues disclosed. For example, companies with revenues of one dollar to $1 million raised a median amount of $140,000, whereas companies with revenues over $100 million raised a median amount of about $22 million. The amount of money raised by companies that “declined to disclose” was about $1 million. Thus, it is unlikely that the Decline to Disclose variable is driven by high (undisclosed) revenue.

Another possibility is that the Decline to Disclose variable is a proxy for a company’s penchant for secrecy or nondisclosure. If Delaware were a state that protected secrecy more than other states, then that could drive the results. There are several problems with this intuitive explanation. First, the Decline to Disclose effect is present even for publicly held companies, for which the information is already available. Second, Nevada incorporation is negatively related to Decline to Disclose, and Nevada promotes its corporate law as the most protective of secrecy.[132] Third, the other legal sophistication variables (conformed signatures, etc.) have no connection to secrecy and also point in favor of Delaware incorporation. Finally, companies with the greatest penchant for secrecy may simply decline to file Form Ds at all.[133] Thus, there is little merit to the “penchant for secrecy” interpretation of the data.

A related alternative interpretation would flip the analysis on its head. Instead of asking why a company would keep information secret, one might ask why a company would voluntarily disclose information that is not required. One possibility is that the company wants to use the Form D to send a message, such as to potential investors, customers, or acquirers that the company has significant revenue. However, this explanation is unpersuasive when examined more closely. Indeed, half of the companies that disclose their revenue have zero revenue. Such a disclosure could not serve to generate interest in an offering among customers or for an acquisition. Indeed, one would expect that the public disclosure of zero revenue would make persuading potential customers to buy a product somewhat difficult. Furthermore, as discussed above, the relationship is present even among public companies, for which the information about revenues is already publicly available. Thus, this interpretation is unpersuasive.

Each of these competing explanations has surface plausibility, but fails to align neatly with the data. The more compelling explanation, therefore, is that either the sophistication of the lawyers or the sophistication of the company itself drives the Delaware incorporation decision.

V.Implications

The findings in this paper suggest neither the quality of state law or the business needs of companies satisfactorily explains jurisdictional choices. Other factors, unrelated to legal rules, appear to substantially influence the decision as well. The first set of factors centers on the role of lawyers as the causal agent in the jurisdictional choice. The second set of factors centers on the role of client demographics in the jurisdictional choice. As noted above,[134] the two categories are not necessarily mutually exclusive, as client demographics could influence the choice of lawyers, which in turn could influence the jurisdictional choice. Both explanations differ from the standard account of jurisdictional choice, which assumes that companies choose their states of incorporation based on the nature of state law or their individualized business needs.

This Part explores the implications of the findings for the federalism debate in corporate law. No matter which explanation of the findings is adopted, serious implications follow for empirical analyses of the jurisdictional choice decision. Section V.A divides the implications of the findings into three accounts of the choice process:(1)an agency cost account of lawyer choice;(2)a sociological account of lawyer culture; and(3)a “Delaware is different” theory of selection effects. Section V.B then discusses the implications of these theories for the federal system of corporate law. Section V.C argues that law firms’ initial decisions, combined with the mutual vetoes of managers and shareholders over reincorporation, means that companies that initially choose Delaware fall into a “governance trap” from which escape is difficult.

A.Agency Costs and the Federal System

This Section explores three mechanisms of jurisdictional choice and the implications that flow from them. The first mechanism is an agency cost explanation, in which jurisdictional choice may serve the interests of law firms rather than clients. The second mechanism is a “cultural” explanation, in which the jurisdictional choice is not the object of a rational, conscious choice, but the result of patterns of law firm practice. The third explanation focuses on the possible client role in the decision, with the idea that Delaware companies are “just different” in terms of their attributes.

Lawyers choosing states of incorporation for early-stage companies may choose the state that they believe is best suited to the client’s needs. But the client’s needs may not dictate a particular state (other than perhaps the home state for cost reasons) because state corporate laws are relatively homogenous. Whether or not the client’s needs suggest a particular state, it is likely that the lawyer’s decision is affected by agency costs between lawyers and their clients, leading lawyers to act in their own best interests. It is often recognized in the corporate literature that lawyers might align with managers, who may have an agency cost problem.[135] But if lawyers drive the incorporation choice relatively free from even management monitoring, then agency costs might develop between lawyers and managers as well.[136] In such cases, the lawyers might choose the state of incorporation that favors their own interests, rather than those of managers or shareholders.

The agency cost between lawyers and companies might have the following effects, as described in Daines’s analysis. Large national law firms, if they recommended in-state incorporation, would need to specialize in many states’ laws.[137] This is expensive and undermines economies of scale. As a result, they concentrate on Delaware. In contrast, small local firms are inherently focused on their state’s law.[138] It is expensive for them to retain dual fluency, but not as expensive as for a national firm to maintain fifty-state fluency. Accordingly, one might expect large national law firms to overwhelmingly recommend Delaware incorporation, while local law firms will disproportionately (but not uniformly) recommend in-state incorporation.[139] The local law firm will further have an incentive to recommend in-state incorporation to “lock in” future business from the company against competition from national firms.[140]

This ideathat lawyers steer clients toward Delaware because it benefits the law firms themselvesis not new, and it even comes from the race-to-the-top side of the debate.[141] Although the agency cost account has a strong underpinning, it is also possible that the decision is based less in conscious rational choice than in demographics and culture. National law firms might recommend Delaware incorporation because Delaware is part of their firm culture, while local firms recommend local incorporation because local incorporation is part of their firm culture. Indeed, it may be possible that the national firms recommend Delaware in part because they do not know any other law well,[142] and the local firm may have the same reason for recommending local incorporation.[143]

Finally, there is a temptation to think that perhaps the national firms recommend Delaware because of their sophistication (rather than self-interest) and the local firms recommend local incorporation because of lack of sophistication or self-interest. After all, the Decline to Disclose variable appears to be closely linked to law firm sophistication in “deal culture.” But the explanation that more sophisticated lawyers choose Delaware because they are more competent is unsatisfying as a causal explanation. The reputation of Delaware is not a secret and is well known to every lawyer who has taken a business associations class.[144] It is improbable that local firms have never heard that Delaware is widely considered by legal practitioners to have a superior legal environment. Thus, although sophistication likely drives the Decline to Disclose variable, allowing us to discern (with considerable noise) who represented the company, it is unlikely that that sophistication actually drives the Delaware decision. Instead, it is likely that law firm self-interest or culture is the actual causal mechanism.

B.Implications for the “RacetotheTop” Debate

The interpretations advanced in Part IV have profound implications for the “race debate” in corporate law. The key issue that divides race-to-the-top and race-to-the-bottom theorists is whether managers are able to pursue private benefits of control to the detriment of shareholders, or whether “market forces align managers’ interests with shareholders’ interests.”[145] Whether the best interpretation is that lawyer sophistication or demographic factors drive the incorporation choice, it seems that both sides in the “race” debate are focusing on the wrong issue. This is because neither the choice of lawyer nor demographic characteristics of the company are likely to correlate with managerial preferences as to the private benefits of control.

The fact that the decision about where to incorporate seems to be driven in large part by the sophistication of the law firm counseling the company or the company’s demographics makes the notion of this type of state competition rather unlikely, at least for early-stage companies. Instead, much of the “competition” may be between national and local counsel, with the former choosing Delaware and the latter choosing local incorporation. Similarly, the demographics of the company’s location, including its influence on choice of counsel, may influence the incorporation choice as much as, or more than, the quality of the corporate law in the home state versus in Delaware.

These new influences in the incorporation decision pose major challenges to studies that evaluate incorporation decisions based on state legal factors. For example, many papers analyze the headquarters states with the highest and lowest rates of Delaware incorporation.[146] Based on the “race” metaphor, one could reasonably assume that headquarters states with higher rates of Delaware incorporation have less attractive corporate law (because companies choose Delaware instead). But because law firm sophistication and company demographics correlate with Delaware incorporation and state geography, one cannot reliably draw inferences from states that companies tend to “flee” from. The reason is that in many cases, these are exactly the states where national counsel tend to be located. As a result, it could be that the reason California and New York lose many companies to Delaware is not because of their laws; instead, it may simply be that national law firms tend to be located in California and New York and are inclined to recommend Delaware incorporation.[147]

As an example, consider the Bebchuk and Cohen analysis, which concluded that “amassing antitakeover statutes makes states more successful in the incorporation market—both in retaining in-state firms and in attracting out-of-state incorporations.”[148] Bebchuk and Cohen used an index of antitakeover statutes among the states and found that the index value (the number of antitakeover statutes) strongly predicted the states that retained the most firms. The implication is that managers gravitate toward states with stronger antitakeover statutes.

The Bebchuk and Cohen index value, when taken by itself, strongly predicts incorporation success in this Article’s database as well. However, this fact is actually highly problematic for the Bebchuk and Cohen analysis, rather than supportive of it. The reason for this is that most of the companies in this Article’s database are not publicly traded corporations (the normal targets of hostile takeovers). Indeed, the Bebchuk and Cohen antitakeover index predicts incorporation choices for private firms in this database almost as well as for public firms, even though private firms generally are not vulnerable to takeovers. Moreover, and even more troubling, the Bebchuk and Cohen antitakeover index strongly predicted the organization choices of private LLCs in this Article’s dataset, even though LLCs are not targets of hostile takeovers and are not even governed by the corporate codes analyzed by Bebchuk and Cohen.

Table 6 presents results for logistic regression analyses including the BebchukCohen antitakeover index value as an explanatory variable, first alone and then together with the legal and demographic variables. The table presents results for both privately held LLCs (an entity type irrelevant to the Bebchuk-Cohen antitakeover hypothesis) and publicly traded corporations (the entity type directly relevant to the BebchukCohen antitakeover hypothesis). As the table indicates, the Bebchuk-Cohen index is highly predictive for private LLCs and for public corporations, but the influence of their index declines when the legal and demographic controls are introduced for public corporations and actually increases when controls are introduced for private LLCs. Indeed, the odds ratio of the Bebchuk-Cohen variable is actually stronger for private LLCs than for public corporations in Model 2 (with legal and demographic controls).

Table 6.Comparison with BebchukCohen Results

This is the reverse of what the Bebchuk-Cohen Theory would predict. The BebchukCohen index values should not predict jurisdictional choices for private LLCs, to which antitakeover statutes are irrelevant. Thus, the results in Table 6 demonstrate that the BebchukCohen results were likely not attributable to antitakeover statutes of the states, but rather the result of other factors (such as law firm choice and demographics) that differ from state to state. Moreover, including the Bebchuk-Cohen index does not significantly diminish the predictive value of the Decline to Disclose or zip code income variables.

The analysis does not undermine the results of all studies based on state law, however. An example is Marcel Kahan’s excellent analysis of the effect of legal rules versus corporate flexibility in incorporation decisions.[149] His study analyzes the factors that enter into companies’ choices regarding states of incorporation, using data about the states’ attributes as predictors.[150] He concludes that corporate flexibility and higher quality judicial systems are the primary draw, rather than antitakeover statutes.[151] But because the factors identified in this study (sophisticated law firms and high income zip codes) vary dramatically among the states, it is possible that controlling for the factors in this study would change the results. Although including the legal and demographic factors reduced the size of Kahan’s effects, Kahan’s findings largely survived the inclusion of the demographic variables developed in this paper.[152]

The findings in this Article also have important implications for studies about the value of Delaware law relative to other states. As mentioned above, a number of prominent studies attempt to use data derived from market prices, such as Tobin’s q, to estimate the value of Delaware law. But if Delaware companies are different from other companies in significant, but difficulttomeasure ways, the results of these studies may simply be capturing that difference. Indeed, the strong demographic effect of zip code income levels, which remains unexplained, suggests that Delaware companies may be different from companies in other states in unknown ways. And if it is the case that firms incorporating in Delaware are different in kind from other firms, then results from Tobin’s q (and other market value studies) may not actually reflect the value of Delaware law.

One might draw the inference from the discussion above that law firms are regularly disserving their clients in making incorporation choices, whether those choices are attributable to agency costs or to law firm culture. If law firms choose incorporation states based on their own interests or cultural predilections rather than client needs, then the results might suggest an attorney-client agency problem. And that would be true if states’ corporate laws actually were different in economically consequential ways. But state-to-state variations in corporate law are actually rather minimal,[153] so it probably does not matter much to individual companies whether law firms make the jurisdictional choice decision based on the law firm’s own self-interest or the best interests of the client. Corporate law has converged to such an extent that there is probably no economically consequential difference between incorporating in one state or another.[154] Thus, whether law firms or clients make the decision about where to incorporate and how that decision is made probably do not matter much to clients in individual cases.

C.The Delaware Trap

Although it may not matter much on an individual company level whether lawyers or companies make the initial jurisdictional choice, the same is not true for the overall functioning of the system of corporate federalism. Scholars have long observed that managers, like shareholders, have a veto power over reincorporation decisions.[155] As a result, no change in incorporation state can occur unless both managers and shareholders prefer the new state over the status quo state. Because much of corporate law divides the interests of managers and shareholders, this mutual veto greatly limits the number of states to which a corporation can move, depending on the status quo state. If, as the analysis in this Article shows, the lawyers often choose the original jurisdiction of incorporation, then they also directly influence whether and where the company can move.

The result of this mutual veto between managers and shareholders is that so long as lawyers choose a state of incorporation in the area squarely between the preferences of managers and shareholders (the “contract curve”), that choice will persist because one group will object to a move in either direction.[156] Indeed, there is evidence that Delaware is exactly that state, at least on the most salient issue dividing managers and shareholders: antitakeover protections.[157]

To be clear, it is not necessary that lawyers make this calculation intentionally. In fact, the original jurisdictional choice is likely at least partially the result of a default decision-making process characterized by “mutual abdication” between the lawyers and the businesspeople.[158] In the vast majority of cases, the initial choice of jurisdiction for an early-stage company is a rote detail that lawyers perform with little attention or scrutiny from the client. The result of this seemingly insignificant initial choice, however, is that the company is lured into a “Delaware trap” from which escape is unlikely. This is true even if both shareholders and managers are dissatisfied with the incorporation choice—so long as they are not dissatisfied in the same way.

Assuming that the preceding analysis is correct, it is not surprising that there is not much variety in state corporate law. So long as lawyers initially choose jurisdictions on the contract curve like Delaware, companies are trapped in the original jurisdiction because no alternative will satisfy the dual constituencies of shareholders and managers.[159] The reincorporation possibility becomes even scarcer if lawyers are making incorporation choices based on their own self-interest, as states would need to cater to the lawyers’ interests too.[160] If companies are unable to reincorporate, there is little incentive for states to offer robust alternatives to Delaware law. The consequence is a stagnant menu of relatively homogenous state corporate law with little innovation, even though innovation might benefit shareholders.[161] As a result, the system of corporate law competition that was once the “genius” of American corporate law[162] has mostly faded away. In short, as with pre-IPO takeover defenses, the blame for the sluggish competition in American corporate law may ultimately lie with the lawyers.[163]

Conclusion

The factors influencing how companies choose jurisdictions of incorporation have remained elusive despite decades of sustained scholarly and empirical effort. This Article argues that the key to unraveling this mystery is examining the role of legal counsel at a company’s earliest stages. The data analyzed in this Article offer strong evidence that one of the most important factors in the incorporation decision is the company’s choice of law firm near the time of its founding. Indeed, this choice of law firm may be the most important factor. Sophisticated law firms, which often have fifty-state practices, tend to recommend Delaware incorporation, while less sophisticated firms, which often have single-state practices, recommend local incorporation. The surprising fact is not that law firms play a role in deciding the state of incorporationafter all, that is a legal decision. The surprising fact is that the choice of law firm largely determines the choice of jurisdiction, which suggests that firms mechanically choose jurisdictions by default. These decisions, made in obscurity during the blizzard of paperwork at a company’s founding, end up determining the company’s future governance regime.

The fact that lawyers play a key role in choosing the state of incorporation affects the scholarly interpretation of the system of corporate federalism as well as the functioning of the system itself. Studies of state corporate law are missing an important variable if they do not account for the company’s legal advisors, potentially leading to incorrect inferences.[164] The functioning of the system of corporate federalism itself is potentially affected by the role of legal counsel in establishing “sticky” status quo jurisdictions that cannot be easily changed. As a result, it is likely that Delaware has a built-in advantage that makes state competition illusory, which this Article terms “the Delaware trap.” Thus any efforts to assess the system of corporate federalism, as well as any proposals to reform that system, must place the legal advisors at the center of the analysis.


[*] *. Associate Professor of Law, Pepperdine University School of Law. For helpful suggestions on earlier drafts of this Article, I would like to thank Lucian Bebchuk, Brian Broughman, Marcel Kahan, Mohsen Manesh, as well as participants in the 2017 National Business Law Scholars Conference at the University of Utah S.J. Quinney College of Law.

 [1]. In most jurisdictions, many more entity forms are available; in some cases, up to twelve such entity forms are available to choose from. See Jesse H. Choper et al., Cases and Materials on Corporations 704–05, 823 (7th ed. 2008). The decision is usually narrowed to either a corporation or a limited liability company. See infra Section II.B.

 [2]. Roberta Romano, The States as a Laboratory: Legal Innovation and State Competition for Corporate Charters, 23 Yale J. on Reg. 209, 210 (2006) (“U.S. corporations can select the legal regime for shareholder-manager relations from among the fifty states and the District of Columbia by their choice of incorporation state without having to establish any physical connection to the choice and without being exposed to extraterritorial restraints on organizational choices.”); Guhan Subramanian, The Influence of Antitakeover Statutes on Incorporation Choice: Evidence on the “Race” Debate and Antitakeover Overreaching, 150 U. Pa. L. Rev. 1795, 1802 (2002) (“Corporations are not constrained by their headquarters, location of manufacturing facilities, place of business, or other operational factors in deciding where to incorporate.”). However, there are exceptions to this general rule. Some businesses are required to use a particular entity, and some businesses are required to organize in a particular state.

 [3]. There are exceptions to this general rule. Under modern corporate statutes, entities may “convert” into other entity forms or change their state of incorporation without merging the original entity out of existence. See, e.g., Model Bus. Corp. Act ch. 9 (2010) (Am. Bar Ass’n, amended 2016) (“Domestication and Conversion”).

 [4]. See, e.g., James D. Cox & Thomas Lee Hazen, Business Organizations Law 66 (4th ed. 2016) (“With very limited exceptions . . . , internal affairs are governed by the law of the state of incorporation. This is customarily referred to as the internal affairs doctrine and is a mainstay of corporate law.”).

 [5]. See, e.g., Larry E. Ribstein & Bruce H. Kobayashi, Choice of Form and Network Externalities, 43 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 79, 83–88 (2001) (explaining the tax and governance tradeoffs associated with the choice of entity).

 [6]. See, e.g., VantagePoint Venture Partners 1996 v. Examen, Inc., 871 A.2d 1108, 1112–13 (Del. 2005) (“It is now well established that only the law of the state of incorporation governs and determines issues relating to a corporation’s internal affairs.”).

 [7]. See Roberta Romano, The Genius of American Corporate Law 14–24, 55 n.9 (1993) (describing the “classic” debate between William Cary and Ralph Winter on state corporate law).

 [8]. See Ehud Kamar, A Regulatory Competition Theory of Indeterminacy in Corporate Law, 98 Colum. L. Rev. 1908, 1909 (1998) (noting that commentators agree that regulatory competition “induces states to play to corporate decisionmakers”).

 [9]. See Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1797 (stating that the debate is “[o]ne of the most important questions in U.S. corporate law”).

 [10]. See, e.g., Frank H. Easterbrook & Daniel R. Fischel, The Economic Structure of Corporate Law 212–13 (1991) (“[Delaware’s] success comes from its enabling statute, its large body of precedents and sophisticated corporate bar, and its credible commitment to be receptive to corporate needs because of the large percentage of its state revenues derived from franchise fees and taxes.”). See also Brian J. Broughman & Darian M. Ibrahim, Delaware’s Familiarity, 52 San Diego L. Rev. 273, 289–90 (2015) (explaining the “leading explanation for Delaware’s dominance” is its “substantive quality,” which includes its statutes, case law, flexibility, and the experience of the Delaware judiciary). In contrast with the standard explanation, Broughman and Ibrahim argue that the “familiarity” of Delaware law is as much the reason for its continued dominance as its substantive quality. See id. at 309.

 [11]. See Lucian Arye Bebchuk & Alma Cohen, Firms’ Decisions Where to Incorporate, 46 J. L. & Econ. 383, 403–04 (2003) (stating that existing studies “can explain only a very small part of the selection of firms that incorporate in Delaware”).

 [12]. See Larry E. Ribstein & Erin Ann O’Hara, Corporations and the Market for Law, 2008 U. Ill. L. Rev. 661, 698–99 (2008) (“The academic writing on the corporate law market has so far focused on a relatively narrow slice of that market occupied by publicly held corporations.”).

 [13]. The counterargument is that public company studies are still valid because companies can reincorporate at any time, meaning that in a sense there is an ongoing “choice” of entity at all times. This is true if one believes that reincorporation is relatively inexpensive, as Bernard S. Black has argued. Bernard S. Black, Is Corporate Law Trivial?: A Political and Economic Analysis, 84 Nw. U. L. Rev. 542, 585–87 (1990). In contrast, Roberta Romano has taken the position that the expense of reincorporation poses an obstacle in many cases. See Romano, supra note 7, at 34–35 (arguing that reincorporation is more expensive than Black contends).

 [14]. See generally Robert Daines, The Incorporation Choices of IPO Firms, 77 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1559 (2002).

 [15]. The classic articles that launched the debate are William L. Cary, Federalism and Corporate Law: Reflections upon Delaware, 83 Yale L.J. 663, 663–68 (1974) (arguing that state competition produces a race to the bottom) and Ralph K. Winter, Jr., State Law, Shareholder Protection, and the Theory of the Corporation, 6 J. Legal Stud. 251, 254–66 (1977) (arguing that state competition produces a race to the top).

 [16]. In addition to Cary, supra note 15, works commonly characterized within the race-to-the-bottom literature include, Oren Bar-Gill et al., The Market for Corporate Law, 162 J. Institutional & Theoretical Econ. 134 (2006); Lucian Bebchuk et al., Does the Evidence Favor State Competition in Corporate Law?, 90 Calif. L. Rev. 1775 (2002), Lucian Arye Bebchuk & Allen Ferrell, A New Approach to Takeover Law and Regulatory Competition, 87 Va. L. Rev. 111 (2001), Lucian Arye Bebchuk & Allen Ferrell, Federalism and Corporate Law: The Race to Protect Managers from Takeovers, 99 Colum. L. Rev. 1168 (1999), and Lucian Arye Bebchuk, Federalism and the Corporation: The Desirable Limits on State Competition in Corporate Law, 105 Harv. L. Rev. 1435 (1992). To be fair, not all of these works contend that there is a race to the bottom, but, perhaps more accurately, that state competition “might push states in undesirable directions with respect to some important corporate issues.” See Lucian Arye Bebchuk & Assaf Hamdani, Vigorous Race or Leisurely Walk: Reconsidering the Competition over Corporate Charters, 112 Yale L.J. 553, 555 (2002).

 [17]. In addition to Winter’s classic article, the works commonly characterized within the race-to-the-top literature include Easterbrook & Fischel, supra note 10, Romano, supra note 7, and Roberta Romano, Law as a Product: Some Pieces of the Incorporation Puzzle, 1 J. L. Econ. & Org. 225 (1985).

 [18]. See Marcel Kahan, The State of State Competition for Incorporations 8–9 (European Corp. Governance Institute, Law Working Paper No. 263, 2014), http://ssrn.com/abstract=2474658.

 [19]. Cary, supra note 15; Winter, supra note 15. Indeed, the debate existed before Cary’s influential article, appearing prominently in Justice Brandeis’s oft-cited dissent in Louis K. Liggett Co. v. Lee, 288 U.S. 517, 557–60 (1933) (Brandeis, J., dissenting).

 [20]. See, e.g., Restatement (Second) of Conflict of Laws §§ 303–310 (Am. Law Inst. 1971). This rule goes beyond even the relatively permissive choice of law rules, such as those for contracts, which require some connection to the law chosen. See Ribstein & O’Hara, supra note 12, at 662 (noting the different rules for choice of law in the corporate context and the contract context).

 [21]. See generally CTS Corp. v. Dynamics Corp. of Am., 481 U.S. 69 (1987); Edgar v. MITE Corp., 457 U.S. 624 (1982).

 [22]. The state’s success has been so complete that scholars have begun to describe it as having a “monopoly” on corporate charters. See, e.g., Mark J. Roe, Delaware’s Shrinking Half Life, 62 Stan. L. Rev. 125, 130–32 (2009).

 [23]. See Romano, supra note 2, at 212.

 [24]. This is debatable, however. Marcel Kahan, for example, argues that even if Delaware law increases firm value, that does not necessarily mean that firms choose Delaware for increased value. Kahan, supra note 18, at 43–44.

 [25]. For a discussion of these event studies, see Romano, supra note 7, at 16–18.

 [26]. Tobin’s q is a financial measure used in many empirical studies and is often interpreted as an indicator of good firm performance. See Roberta Romano, Less is More: Making Institutional Investor Activism a Valuable Mechanism of Corporate Governance, 18 Yale J. on Reg. 174, 212 (2001). The measure is defined as “the ratio of the market value of a firm to the replacement cost of its assets.” Kee H. Chung & Stephen W. Pruitt, A Simple Approximation of Tobin’s q, 23 Fin. Mgmt. 70, 70 (1994).

 [27]. See Michal Barzuza & David C. Smith, What Happens in Nevada? Self-Selecting into Lax Law, 27 Rev. Fin. Stud. 3593, 3618 (2014) (finding a positive Tobin’s q for Delaware corporations); Robert Daines, Does Delaware Law Improve Firm Value?, 62 J. Fin. Econ. 525, 527–31 (2001); Guhan Subramanian, The Disappearing Delaware Effect, 20 J.L. Econ. & Org. 32, 35–38 (2004) (applying the Tobin’s q approach to show that Delaware law adds a modest, though declining, amount of value compared to other states).

 [28]. See Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1807 (explaining that, although event studies have “relatively consistent results,” they “suffer from methodological flaws” related to the fact that reincorporation decisions often coincide with other important business changes, which may alter the results).

 [29]. Id. at 1808–10 (describing the result obtained by Robert Daines and subsequent tests of the value of Delaware law). See generally Robert P. Bartlett & Frank Portnoy, The Misuse of Tobin’s Q (UC Berkeley Public Law Research Paper, Feb. 4, 2018), https://ssrn.com/abstract=3118020 (explaining methodological problems with common applications of Tobin’s q).

 [30]. See generally Robert Anderson IV & Jeffrey Manns, The Delaware Delusion, 93 N.C. L. Rev. 1049 (2015).

 [31]. William J. Carney et al., Delaware Corporate Law: Failing Law, Failing Markets, in The Law and Economics of Corporate Governance: Changing Perspectives 23, 27 (Alessio M. Pacces ed., 2010) (concluding that “[t]he results over 25 years of empirical work thus remain inconclusive”).

 [32]. See Richard A. Posner & Kenneth E. Scott, Economics of Corporation Law and Securities Regulation 111 (1980).

 [33]. See Barry D. Baysinger & Henry N. Butler, The Role of Corporate Law in the Theory of the Firm, 28 J.L. & Econ. 179, 184-85, 188 (1985).

 [34]. See Romano, supra note 7, at 32–36.

 [35]. See, e.g., Stephen P. Ferris et al., The Influence of State Legal Environments on Firm Incorporation Decisions and Values, 2 J.L. Econ. & Pol’y 1, 12 (2006) (finding that companies are attracted to states with more favorable legal environments for management).

 [36]. See Bebchuk & Cohen, supra note 11, at 402; Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1846, 1852–53.

 [37]. Marcel Kahan, The Demand for Corporate Law: Statutory Flexibility, Judicial Quality, or Takeover Protection?, 22 J.L. Econ. & Org. 340, 340 (2006) (finding that firms favor jurisdictions with flexible corporate law and high quality judicial systems and are not influenced by state antitakeover statutes).

 [38]. Daines, supra note 14, at 1597.

 [39]. See, e.g., Michael Klausner, Corporations, Corporate Law, and Networks of Contracts, 81 Va. L. Rev. 757, 841–51 (1995). The argument is that Delaware incorporation becomes more valuable as more firms incorporate there, which means that the value of incorporating in Delaware is more than merely the quality of the law. Jens Dammann has argued that in addition to the number of firms incorporated in a jurisdiction, the “homogeneity” of such firms may also play a role in jurisdictional choice. See generally Jens Dammann, Homogeneity Effects in Corporate Law, 46 Ariz. St. L.J. 1103 (2015).

 [40]. See, e.g., Michal Barzuza, Self-Selection and Heterogeneity in Firms’ Choice of Corporate Law, 16 Theoretical Inquiries L. 295, 297, 306–13 (2015) (“Incorporating heterogeneity in management preferences, this Article argues that managers with a relatively strong preference for legal protection should be less inclined to incorporate in Delaware.”).

 [41]. See generally Brian Broughman et al., Delaware Law as Lingua Franca: Theory and Evidence, 57 J.L. & Econ. 865 (2014).

 [42]. See Mark J. Roe, Delaware’s Competition, 117 Harv. L. Rev. 588, 590 (2003) (arguing that Delaware’s competition may come from the federal government rather than other states). Cf. Omari Scott Simmons, Delaware’s Global Threat, 41 J. Corp. L. 217, 221 (2015) (arguing that Delaware’s competition may come from other countries rather than other states).

 [43]. See Bebchuk & Hamdani, supra note 16, at 555; Marcel Kahan & Ehud Kamar, The Myth of State Competition in Corporate Law, 55 Stan. L. Rev. 679, 685–86 (2002) (noting their substantive agreement that “states do not vigorously compete for incorporations”).

 [44]. Michal Barzuza, Market Segmentation: The Rise of Nevada as a Liability-Free Jurisdiction, 98 Va. L. Rev. 935, 939–40 (2012) (citing network externalities, existing case law, expert judiciary, and political impediments as reasons that make it unlikely Delaware would face serious competition).

 [45]. William J. Carney et al., Lawyers, Ignorance, and the Dominance of Delaware Corporate Law, 2 Harv. Bus. L. Rev. 123, 147 (2012) (discussing their finding, based on a survey of corporate lawyers, that “[i]n choosing the state of incorporation, lawyers matter. The lawyers and their locations were central to the choice of the state of incorporation.”).

 [46]. See, e.g., Kahan, supra note 18, at 26 (indicating that instead of home state competition accounting for home state incorporation, “[i]t is more likely, as Daines argues, that the pre-existing relationships between managers and (locally based) lawyers account for the ‘Delaware or headquarter state’ incorporation pattern.”).

 [47]. Romano, supra note 17, at 273–79.

 [48]. See, e.g., Barzuza, supra note 40, at 300–01; Bebchuk & Cohen, supra note 11, at 399 (arguing that the identity of a company’s law firm “might significantly affect the choice of incorporation state”).

 [49]. Daines, supra note 14, at 1600 (“Lawyer identity appears to explain more of the variation in firm [state incorporation] decisions than any other factor, including the substance of the state’s legal rules.”).

 [50]. See supra notes 3238 and accompanying text.

 [51]. See supra notes 2531 and accompanying text.

 [52]. But see Rutherford B. Campbell, Jr., The Wreck of Regulation D: The Unintended (and Bad) Outcomes for the SEC’s Crown Jewel Exemptions, 66 Bus. Law. 919, 926–42 (2011) (analyzing data related to Form D filings and critiquing the limitations of Regulation D vis-à-vis state “blue sky laws”).

 [53]. 17 C.F.R. §§ 230.500–.508 (2018).

 [54]. 15 U.S.C. §§ 77a–77mm (2018).

 [55]. This figure excludes filings by various types of “pooled investment funds,” which also file under Regulation D. Including these funds more than doubles the number of filings. Unreported results on file with the author.

 [56]. See 17 C.F.R. § 230.503(a) (2018).

 [57]. See id. § 239.500 (setting forth the information required in a Form D).

 [58]. Overall, approximately 74% of the corporations in the dataset had been incorporated within the previous five years. Over 50% had been incorporated within the previous two years. In contrast, among the (relatively small) number of public corporations in the dataset, 60% were older than five years. Thus, analyses of public companies are relatively distant from the original incorporation decision.

 [59]. See Adolf A. Berle & Gardiner C. Means, The Modern Corporation and Private Property 3–10 (Transaction Publishers rev. ed. 1991) (setting out the classic discussion of the separation of ownership and control).

 [60]. See, e.g., Daines, supra note 14, at 1569 (explaining that firms going public, as opposed to those already public, are “relatively free from the agency costs” that result from the separation of ownership and control).

 [61]. See Jens Dammann & Matthias Schündeln, The Incorporation Choices of Privately Held Corporations, 27 J.L. Econ. & Org. 79, 81–82, 110 (2011).

 [62]. Filings & Forms, SEC, https://www.sec.gov/edgar.shtml (last visited May 17, 2018).

 [63]. See EDGAR Full Index, SEC, https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/full-index (last visited May 17, 2018).

 [64]. The data includes Form Ds filed through June 30, 2016, the approximate date on which the data was downloaded.

 [65]. Entities are identified by CIK number. Separate CIK numbers does not necessarily mean that two entities are unrelated. Generally, each entity will have its own CIK number, even if they are affiliates.

 [66]. However, note that the findings of this Article are qualitatively similar when such funds are included.

 [67]. 15 U.S.C. §§ 78a–78qq (2012).

 [68]. Companies were identified as “public” if they had filed a Form 10-Q or S-1 during the 2009–2016 period prior to the date of filing the Form D. This is a very broad definition of “public” company because, as will be discussed below, many reporting companies are “shell companies,” “penny stock” issuers, “blank check companies,” and the like.

 [69]. The definition of an “accredited investor” is contained in Securities Act Rule 501(a). 17 C.F.R. § 230.501(a) (2018). In general, an accredited investor is one who the SEC defines as falling within Congress’s definition of “any person who, on the basis of such factors as financial sophistication, net worth, knowledge, and experience in financial matters, or amount of assets under management qualifies as an accredited investor under rules and regulations which the Commission shall prescribe.” 15 U.S.C. § 77b(a)(15)(ii) (2012).

 [70]. Conformed signatures are a typed representation of a signature used on electronically filed documents. Most commonly, conformed signatures are denoted by “/s/” preceding the signatory’s name.

 [71]. Form D, SEC, https://www.sec.gov/files/formd.pdf (last visited May 17, 2018).

 [72]. Daines, in his 2002 article, found that 97% of public companies were incorporated either in their home states or Delaware. Daines, supra note 14, at 1562. Other studies have found similar results. See, e.g., Bebchuk & Hamdani, supra note 16, at 579 (documenting Delaware having an 80–90% share of out-of-state incorporations and suggesting that this share is growing).

 [73]. See Broughman et al., supra note 41, at 872 (reporting that 96.5% of a sample of venture-capital-backed companies organized in either their home state or Delaware).

 [74]. See Dammann & Schündeln supra note 61, at 106 (reporting from a broad sample of private companies figures between 50% and 83% depending on the size of the company).

 [75]. The small difference with Daines is not due to the fact that Daines examined public companies and this study examines private companies because the incorporation figure among the public companies in the sample is actually lower. The difference is the result of the recent incursion of Nevada into public company incorporations.

 [76]. Scholars have noted the Nevada phenomenon of the last decade or so, explaining that Nevada has attracted “a particular segment of the interstate market for incorporations—firms with a preference for strong management protection that is not satisfied by Delaware law.” Barzuza, supra note 44, at 938. One paper suggests Nevada attracts firms that are prone to financial reporting failures. Barzuza & Smith, supra note 27, at 3594. Although the growth of Nevada’s share of reporting companies appears impressive, most of the Nevada “public” companies incorporated in Nevada are “penny stock companies” with little significance. Indeed, the annual reports of 69% of Nevada public companies contain text referring to “penny stock,” “blank check company,” or “shell company,” all terms used by the SEC to refer to securities with abuse potential. See 17 C.F.R. § 240.3a51-1 (2018) (“penny stock”); id. § 230.419(a)(2) (“blank check company”); id. § 240.12b-2 (“shell company”). By comparison, the percentage was 25% among Delaware public companies.

 [77]. Barzuza & Smith, supra note 27, at 3594.

 [78]. Ribstein & O’Hara, supra note 12, at 702.

 [79]. Id.

 [80]. See Marcel Kahan & Ehud Kamar, Price Discrimination in the Market for Corporate Law, 86 Cornell L. Rev. 1205, 1225–30 (2001).

 [81]. See generally Dammann & Schündeln, supra note 61 (evaluating the incorporation decisions of privately held companies).

 [82]. Id. at 79.

 [83]. See id. at 84.

 [84]. The fact that the data from this study is drawn from Form Ds also has import upon the appropriate interpretation of the result. There is nothing inherent in the use of Form D that should govern a company’s state of incorporation. Indeed, the filing of a Form D is a requirement to rely on Regulation D, which is one of the most widely used and general exceptions to the registration requirements of the federal Securities Act of 1933. One explanation is that the companies filing Form Ds in this dataset are different, in the sense that they have sought outside capital. Thus, one theory is that outside capital may be one of the major influencers of the jurisdictional choice decision. Companies that raise capital using Form D tend to incorporate in Delaware more than corporations in general. It is also possible, however, that the very fact of filing a Form D and the legal sophistication it entails might be what makes such companies different. A clue is the fact that most companies do not file a Form D. Some companies decide not to file the Form D because there seem to be no consequences to failing to do so.

 [85]. Logistic regression, also called “logit,” is one of several statistical methods employed when a binary dependent variable is used in an analysis. See J. Scott Long, Regression Models for Categorical and Limited Dependent Variables 34 (1997).

 [86]. The results are not qualitatively different if only based on the choice between Delaware and the home state.

 [87]. The number of companies headquartered in Delaware is so small that any “in-state” effect of these companies is minimal and does not change the results.

 [88]. Most of the predictors share “legal” and “business” characteristics, however. For example, the amount raised may be influenced not only by business considerations, but also by the specific exemption relied on (Rule 504 has a $1 million limit on the amount of securities sold and Rule 505 has a $5 million limit). Similarly, the “Decline to Disclose” decision could occasionally be a conscious choice driven by business considerations. Thus, the grouping into “legal” or “business” factors is not perfect. This is one reason for including the “conformed signature” variable, in order to ensure that there was at least one purely legal variable.

 [89]. SOI Tax Stats – Individual Income Tax Statistics – 2014 ZIP Code Data (SOI), IRS, https://www.irs.gov/statistics/soi-tax-stats-individual-income-tax-statistics-2014-zip-code-data-soi (last visited May 17, 2018).

 [90]. See supra note 70 and accompanying text.

 [91]. Filers have failed to disclose this information from the very beginning, as criticized in an Office of Inspector General Report in 2009. See Off. Inspector Gen., SEC, Regulation D Exemption Process 19 (Mar. 31, 2009), https://www.sec.gov/about/offices/oig/reports/audits/2009
/459.pdf.

 [92]. One might argue that disclosing revenue information would generate interest and perhaps publicity around the offering, which might benefit the issuer, for example, by attracting the interest of investors or potential acquirers. This explanation in unconvincing, see infra Section IV.C.

 [93]. This was confirmed by the author with several partners in major law firms who regularly make Form D filings.

 [94]. To test this relationship, a Chi-Squared test was used, which was significant at p<0.001.

 [95]. The lack of use of Rules 504 and 505 has previously been documented in another study on Form Ds. See Campbell, supra note 52, at 922–23 (noting the lack of use of Rule 504 and 505 and attributing the dominance of Rule 506 to its preemption of state Blue Sky Laws).

 [96]. This figure is based on the odds ratio, which is a common means of summarizing the effect of a variable in a logistic regression. An odds ratio of one means that the event is equally likely in both groups, whereas an odds ratio greater than one means that the event is more likely in the group represented by the independent variable (here, those that check “Decline to Disclose”). See, e.g., Lawrence S. Meyers et al., Applied Multivariate Research: Design and Interpretation 230 (2006) (discussing technique).

 [97]. See infra Section V.C.

 [98]. The finding that larger company size translates into higher rates of Delaware incorporation has been noted in previous studies. See Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1841. Interestingly, the mechanism Subramanian suggests for this relationship is that larger corporations choose New York City lawyers who choose Delaware incorporation. See id. at 1836. This posits a causal relationship between the state of incorporation and a law firm’s identity, for which this study provides strong evidence.

 [99]. Convertible securities are likely markers for venture capital financings, although certainly not limited to that context.

 [100]. See Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1836 (“[T]o my knowledge no one has argued that the demand side of the corporate charter market differs meaningfully by industry.”). It is interesting that many of the articles analyzing incorporation choice control for industry (therefore suspecting it might play a role), yet tend not to note any significant results. See id. Accord Daines, supra note 14, at 1595; Dammann & Schündeln, supra note 61, at 93.

 [101]. See, e.g., Dammann & Schündeln, supra note 61, at 85 n.10 (noting that the authors’ analysis of industry as a predictor did not find “any one [industry] sector driving the results”).

 [102]. See, e.g., Thomas J. Boulton, Venture Capital and the Incorporation Decisions of IPO Firms, 62 J. Econ. & Bus. 477, 492 (2010) (finding that venture-backed IPO companies were more likely to incorporate in Delaware than non-venture-backed IPO companies).

 [103]. See Posner & Scott, supra note 32, at 111; Kahan & Kamar, supra note 80, at 1225–30.

 [104]. See, e.g., Bebchuk & Cohen, supra note 11, at 386–87, 396, 411.

 [105]. These findings reflect the results of an unreported regression on file with the author.

 [106]. See, e.g., John Fox, Applied Regression Analysis, Linear Models, and Related Methods 131–34 (1997) (“Measurement error in an independent variable tends to attenuate its regression coefficient and to make the variable an imperfect statistical control.”).

 [107]. Broughman et al., supra note 41, at 867.

 [108]. See supra Section III.D.1.

 [109]. Indeed, in at least one previous study, the author used a business variable (sales) with the intent that it serve as a proxy for lawyer identity. See Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1836.

 [110]. It is always possible, of course, that this analysis has failed to control for the relevant business variables that would show a strong relationship with Delaware incorporation. However, those variables are likely to correlate with the existing variables and, to that extent, are already partially included in the “business variables” category.

 [111]. Dammann & Schündeln, supra note 61, at 85.

 [112]. See, e.g., Ribstein & O’Hara, supra note 12, at 680 (explaining how lawyers encourage states to “compete for choice-of-law business”).

 [113]. See Bebchuk & Cohen, supra note 11, at 399 (“[T]he identity of the law firm involved in a firm’s IPO and/or subsequent corporate affairs . . . might significantly affect the choice of incorporation state.”). Bebchuk and Cohen made this argument as an extension of the findings of John Coates, who had established that lawyers, rather than the law itself, were behind many IPO companies’ antitakeover choices. See John C. Coates IV, Explaining Variation in Takeover Defenses: Blame the Lawyers, 89 Calif. L. Rev. 1301, 1303 (2001).

 [114]. Carney et al., supra note 45, at 147 (“In choosing the state of incorporation, lawyers matter. The lawyers and their locations were central to the choice of the state of incorporation.”).

 [115]. Id. at 124–25.

 [116]. Id. at 137 (“[L]awyers will choose Delaware because of their belief that investors’ ignorance of other states’ laws means that the investors will pay more for stock in Delaware companies.”).

 [117]. See generally Coates, supra note 113.

 [118]. Id. at 1303.

 [119]. Id.

 [120]. Daines, supra note 14, at 1562.

 [121]. Id. at 1600 (“Lawyer identity appears to explain more of the variation in firm [state incorporation] decisions than any other factor, including the substance of the state’s legal rules.”).

 [122]. Id.

 [123]. Accord Fox, supra note 106, at 134.

 [124]. It is also possible that the causation is reversed, such that “[f]irms may be choosing their lawyers based on their incorporation choices.” Ribstein & O’Hara, supra note 12, at 701.

 [125]. For example, it is possible that an emergent company might choose Delaware incorporation in an attempt to signal that the startup is high quality, see, e.g., Broughman & Ibrahim, supra note 10, at 299, and that the startup chooses a national law firm for the same reason.

 [126]. This possibility was explored in Daines’s work, as he acknowledged that it is possible “some firms have plans or characteristics that make it desirable to have national lawyers and, for similar reasons, also find it desirable to be in Delaware.” Daines, supra note 14, at 1593 n.110.

 [127]. See, e.g., Avis J. Thomas et al., ZIP-Code-Based Versus Tract-based Income Measures as Long-Term Risk-Adjusted Mortality Predictors, 164 Am. J. Epidemiology 586, 589 (2006) (finding that household income by zip code correlated strongly with mortality).

 [128]. See, e.g., Douglas Kirby et al., Manifestations of Poverty and Birthrates Among Young Teenagers in California Zip Code Areas, 33 Fam. Planning Persp. 63, 64 (2001).

 [129]. See, e.g., E. Brooke Lerner et al., The Influence of Demographic Factors on Seatbelt Use by Adults Injured in Motor Vehicle Crashes, 33 Accident Analysis & Prevention 659, 661 (2001).

 [130]. See supra Section III.D.1.

 [131]. See infra Section V.B.

 [132]. See Brian Grow & Kelly Carr, Special Report: Nevada’s Big Bet on Secrecy, Reuters (Sept. 26, 2011), http://graphics.thomsonreuters.com/11/09/ShellGamesNevada.pdf.

 [133]. Anecdotal evidence suggests that many issuers decline to file Form Ds, as there is apparently no significant consequence for failing to file. This has long been noted by the SEC and others. See, e.g., SEC, supra note 91, at vii (“Currently, issuers do not face any tangible consequences for failing to file a Form D.”). The SEC also appears to be aware that lack of compliance with the filing obligation is “widespread.” See Amendments to Regulation D, Form D and Rule 156, 78 Fed. Reg. 44806, 44818 n.85 (proposed July 10, 2013) (to be codified at 17 C.F.R. pts. 230, 239). The SEC proposed a rule that would provide consequences for failing to file a Form D, but the initiative appears to have stalled. See id. at 44808 (proposing to “amend Rule 507 of Regulation D to disqualify an issuer from relying on Rule 506 for one year for future offerings if the issuer, or any predecessor or affiliate of the issuer, did not comply, within the last five years, with all of the Form D filing requirements in a Rule 506 offering”).

 [134]. See supra notes 124–33 and accompanying text.

 [135]. See, e.g., Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1836 n.143 (“In theory, outside counsel should be aligned with management (and thus subject to the same potential agency problems) because outside counsel of an acquired firm often does not stay on post-integration.”).

 [136]. Daines, supra note 14, at 1580 (“Entrepreneurs may not be able to monitor or verify their lawyer’s recommendation about domicile, perhaps giving lawyers some slack to seek their own, rather than the clients’ interest.”).

 [137]. Id. at 1584–85.

 [138]. Id. at 1581 (“If firms hire local lawyers, it is very likely that these lawyers, in turn, know local corporate law.”).

 [139]. See id. at 1595 (concluding, based on empirical evidence, that “local lawyers advise firms to incorporate locally, while national lawyers advise firms to incorporate in Delaware”).

 [140]. Id. at 1584–85.

 [141]. See, e.g., Romano, supra note 7, at 43–44 (race-to-the-top proponent describing benefits of Delaware incorporation for lawyers).

 [142]. See Carney et al., supra note 45, at 134–37.

 [143]. Daines, supra note 14, at 1586 (explaining that there are more “benign interpretations” of the local lawyer’s preference for local law that are based on the local lawyer’s own “imperfect information”).

 [144]. Cf. Carney et al., supra note 45, at 124 (noting “Delaware’s dominance” in corporate law).

 [145]. Subramanian, supra note 2, at 1812.

 [146]. See, e.g., id. at 1819–26 (analyzing the “win/lose” percentages of various states by headquarters state and reincorporation direction); Bebchuk & Cohen, supra note 11, at 395 (tabulating inflow and outflow data in a table entitled “Migration and Emigration in the Market for Corporate Law”).

 [147]. Some of the studies suffer from another problem, which is that the large states from which companies tend to “flee” also account for such a large percentage of the total data, so the results may depend largely on them. See Daines, supra note 14, at 1597.

 [148]. Bebchuk & Cohen, supra note 11, at 421.

 [149]. See generally Kahan, supra note 37.

 [150]. See id. at 340–43.

 [151]. Id. at 363–64.

 [152]. The results are contained in unreported regressions on file with the author. Notably, Kahan’s results also predicted Delaware incorporation for LLCs, as did Bebchuk and Cohen’s results. Id. Accord Bebchuck & Cohen, supra note 11, at 420–22. However, “corporate flexibility,” as measured by Kahan, may plausibly apply to LLCs, whereas Bebchuk and Cohen’s antitakeover index cannot apply to LLCs.

 [153]. See, e.g., William J. Carney, The Production of Corporate Law, 71 S. Cal. L. Rev. 715, 729–34 (1998) (arguing that corporate law is relatively similar from state to state); Jill E. Fisch, The Peculiar Role of the Delaware Courts in the Competition for Corporate Charters, 68 U. Cin. L. Rev. 1061, 1066–67 (2000) (arguing that state corporate law is relatively uniform).

 [154]. This proposition was tested in the joint work between Jeffrey Manns and the author. See Anderson & Manns, supra note 30, at 1083–84 (finding no empirical evidence that that the stock market placed positive value on Delaware law as opposed to other states’ law).

 [155]. See Bebchuk, supra note 16, at 1458–61 (explaining that managers and shareholders have a mutual veto over reincorporation, which encourages Delaware to cater to managers’ interests to maintain its share of corporations).

 [156]. In public choice theory and microeconomics, the set of points joining the ideal points of two parties is called the “contract curve,” and there is no other point to which those two parties could agree to move. See, e.g., Dennis C. Mueller, Public Choice III 88 (2003) (explaining that points on the contract curve cannot lose to any other point in a committee of two).

 [157]. Fisch, supra note 153, at 1062–67 (explaining that “Delaware has opted for a middle ground and adopted a moderate antitakeover statute”).

 [158]. See Anderson & Manns, supra note 30, at 1089 (arguing that lawyers and businesspeople both appear to believe Delaware incorporation is important to the other group, leading to a “mutual abdication” in favor of Delaware incorporation without either group considering the merits of the decision).

 [159]. A poignant example of this problem is North Dakota’s attempt to lure corporations away from Delaware with a new “shareholder-centric statute;” an attempt that has failed. See Christopher M. Bruner, Managing Corporate Federalism: The Least-Bad Approach to the Shareholder Bylaw Debate, 36 Del. J. Corp. L. 1, 24–25 n.116 (2011) (noting that North Dakota has succeeded in attracting only one corporation and that corporation was affiliated with the statute’s proponent, Carl Icahn).

 [160]. See Daines, supra note 14, at 1602 (explaining that if lawyers affect decisions about where to incorporate, then states “would not simply craft laws to suit managers’ preferences, but would rationally cater to lawyers”).

 [161]. See Michael Abramowicz, Speeding Up the Crawl to the Top, 20 Yale J. Reg. 139, 147–56 (2003).

 [162]. Romano, supra note 7, at 1.

 [163]. See Coates, supra note 113, at 1383 (arguing that in the context of antitakeover defenses “lawyers largely determine key terms in the ‘corporate contract,’ due to agency costs between owner-managers and their lawyers”).

 [164]. This is similar to the conclusion John Coates drew in his well-known study of antitakeover provisions in IPO firms. See id. at 1384 (“For academics studying private law empirically, a related implication is that lawyers or law firms may generally need to enter empirical models as a control or explanatory variable whenever the goal is to study something requiring legal advice or implementation.”). Because the choice of jurisdiction of incorporation certainly falls in this category, this study supports Coates’ assertion.

Quieting the Shareholders Voice: Empirical Evidence of Pervasive Bundling in Proxy Solicitations – Article by James D. Cox, Fabrizio Ferri, Colleen Honigsberg, and Randall S. Thomas

From Volume 89, Number 6 (September 2016)
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The integrity of shareholder voting is critical to the legitimacy of corporate law. One threat to this process is proxy “bundling,” or the joinder of more than one separate item into a single proxy proposal. Bundling deprives shareholders of the right to convey their views on each separate matter being put to a vote and forces them to either reject the entire proposal or approve items they might not otherwise want implemented.

In this Paper, we provide the first comprehensive evaluation of the anti-bundling rules adopted by the Securities and Exchange Commission (“SEC”) in 1992. While we find that the courts have carefully developed a framework for the proper scope and application of the rules, the SEC and proxy advisory firms have been less vigilant in defending this instrumental shareholder right. In particular, we note that the most recent SEC interpretive guidance has undercut the effectiveness of the existing rules, and that, surprisingly, proxy advisory firms do not have well-defined heuristics to discourage bundling.

  

 

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