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As I was entering a “Bestbuy” store one summer day wearing shorts and a tee shirt and carrying my ubiquitous book bag (as you might expect), the security person, whom the manager later told me also works at a prison, walked after me as though stalking me, practially yelling “Sir! Sir!” Reaching me as I was talking to a salesperson who was treating me as though I were a customer, the lineback demanded to look in my book bag immediately. I stated matter of factly that I had had no opportunity to stash anything from the store in my bag while walking in the front door (after which he saw my every move).  Nevertheless, I opened my pouch for him and he was satisifed. After I left the salesperson, I reported the incident to a manager, whose “company apologizes” was belied by his curtness and saccarine politieness.

Can a company even apologize? That sounds anthropomorphic to me. Perhaps if an employee is rude in “correctly” following a company policy—such that the policy itself is odious—a manager could apologize for the store. But can a store apologize? That sounds a bit like corporate “spending” being counted as “free speech" and like a company being regarded, moreover, as a legal person. In my view, the legal person status of a company does not mean that “it” can speak and apologize. Perhaps it makes more sense to say that only the person who committed some act can apologize for himself.

In the case of my “Bestbuy” experience, the manager added insult to injury. After I told him about the security person’s behavior—the manager agreeing with me that the employee had been excessively zealous—the manager told me that typically people with book bags are, in his experience, thieves. When I objected to his assumption, he turned dismissive, accusing me even of “going in circles” in spite of the fact that I had not repeated myself at all in my one sentence reply.  The manager seemed utterly unaware (or indifferent) to the fact that he was adding insult to injury, even as he was apologizing for the company! This is a perfect example of the duplicity of corporate-speak.

A company is an economic organization. Hence, for “it” to apologize, there really must be some economic sacrifice involved; otherwise, the apology does not register in terms of what the company is. The vacuousness of “We do apologize for any inconvenience” (which we all have heard) is attested to by how easy it is for a manager to utter it while simultaneously insulting the customer (e.g., “you’re going in circles; can I go now?”). I contend that for a “company’s” apology to be valid, some economic sacrifice must be given up without the company benefitting in any way such as by a future purchase with a coupon. Customers, I contend, should indicate that the apologizing manager must put his or her company's money where its apology is; otherwise, the customer should say in like terms, "unfortunately the apology cannot be accepted as valid.” How, I wonder, would a manager or clerk react to being the recipient rather than the source of policy-speak? He or she would probably reply, “well, I can’t do anything about that.” His "can't" is probably disingenuous, as it is undoubtedly convenient, at least at the moment. The customer might reply, 'unfortunately I can't shop here again." This exchange evinces the sheer rigidity that is so ingrained in corporate-speak as well as the underlying mentality.  I suspect that businesses are so used to their customers accepting the rigidity as given (rather than as contingent or affected) that the managers and employees take their own rigidity as required, as though deterministically rather than by their free will. Essentially, I am arguing that only certain things—money and policies—are recognizeable to the managerial birds of prey, hence their “apologies” must be converted back into such terms by customers or rejected for what they are--mere attempts to pacify customers so they will buy something.  That it never occurs to a manager that the actual employee who had offended the customer ought to be the person to apologize suggests some strange surrogate type of apology is therefore valid. Just like if I offend someone only I can apologize for what I have said or done, so too only the offending employee can proffer a viable and thus acceptable apology.  For a customer to accept anything less is to enable weakness and subterfuge.

After watching hours of the US House Government Affairs committee on Investigations’ hearing on Goldman Sachs,  I concluded--totally contrary to the disavowals by the Goldman managers who testified--that there was indeed a conflict of interest between Goldman’s proprietary and market-making functions.  By proprietary, I mean a bank trading on its own books beyond simply being the counter-party in its market-making transactions. In their testimony, Goldman managers presumed that all of the bank’s proprietary transactions are part of its market-making role. However, I contend that the bank has been both a market-maker and a player in those markets, and furthermore that the latter function has affected the former in ways that are intended to benefit the bank. That is to say, Goldman Sachs’ financial interest has been put before that of its customers. In some cases, Goldman’s employees refused clients’ requests for shorts related to the housing market so Goldman’s own profits in shorting the market  could be preserved. Sen. Susan Collins (R-ME) said, “There is something unseemly about Goldman betting against the housing market as it is selling housing-related products to its customers.” Sen. Conrad, a more conservative Republican, echoed this sentiment.  The fact that Republicans on the subcommittee joined with Democrats rather than joined in Goldman’s paradigm points to a major disconnect between Wall Street “speak” and the discourse of the general public.  In other words, the financial managers and the politicians were largely talking past each other.  Even so, the two “worlds” can be translated into a common language that nonetheless finds Goldman culpable, while acknowledging some of the managers’ points.  In what follows, I discuss a number of the points raised in the hearing to bear out my contentions here.

Broker dealers do not have a legal fiduciary obligation to their clients in the US. This, Sen. Collins argued, is the root cause of the conflict of interest at Goldman (i.e., pitching toxic investments to its clients while betting against them).  Goldman bankers view their obligation being to be market makers.  A duty to serve the clients or act in their best interest?   Goldman’s managers tended to affirm the former because where the bank is making markets, similarly to an exchange, it is not in an advising capacity. According to one of the managers, market-makers do not have an obligation to tell clients of the market-maker’s position in the market.  The manager contended that how Goldman is positioned may not affect how the instrument performs.  So long as clients understand what they are investing it, the position of the market-maker is not relevant to the client.

Paulson (of the hedge fund, Paulson & Co) had a role in picking the securities in the Abacus CDO. The rating agency said that if the rating analyst had known this, the rating would have been far different.  Torre, the manager at Goldman who oversaw the deal, claimed in testimony that he had told ACA (the major long buyer) that Paulson was going short, but in a memo from ACA afterward refers to Paulson going long. Paulson was involved in the selection of the securities, according to Torre, though ACA left off more than half of the securities that Paulson had recommended. Even so, Paulson was in the room as the securities were being selected, and he had selected the criteria of their removal. Goldman employees did not indicate in the Abacus CDO that Paulson, whose intent it was to short, had been involved in the selection of the securities (which were subprime mortgages from 2006—presumably the stated-income-only variety).

In replying to Sen. Levin’s questions regarding whether it is correct that Goldman made money on its net short position in 2007, two of the Goldman managers replied, “I didn’t write that.” A third replied, “I can only comment on what I did.” Although such non-answers could have been directed by lawyers or the answers could be due to the difference in general paradigms between Wall Street and the general public, I submit that the managers’ underlying attitude is particularly troubling because it involves some cognitive warping.  Because Chairman Levin (D-MI) was not asking  whether they wrote the Goldman document he was referring to, the reply “I didn’t write it” simply doesn’t apply.  At the very least, the managers were adding assumptions into Levin’s question that simply were not there. My question is this: what, cognitively or affectively speaking, would prompt such “value-added addendums”? After a similar answer to one of his questions, Sen. Colburn (R-OK) replied, “Mr Burnbaum, you didn’t hear what I said.”  Similarly frustrated after a question, Sen. Levin gave up with the witness, saying, “I think you’ve not answered the question as best you can.” At one point, Sen. Colburn asked Mr. Burnbaum whether he had any knowledge of whether his firm had a short position on an issue, he replied that he didn’t take the position.  “I don’t speak for the firm; I speak only for my position.” But Sen. Colburn didn’t ask him to speak for his firm; rather, he asked him whether he knew anything about something regarding the firm.  What could prompt such mistaken assumptions?  I don’t think it is entirely a subterfuge; rather, I suspect that the managers’ cognitive processes had been distorted by a particular organizational or industry culture. Such cognitive warping could be part of the reason why Goldman’s managers have blind-spots concerning the institutional conflicts of interest.

To potential customers who asked how Goldman got comfortable with Anderson securities, which were put together by New Century (a mortgage servicer), the sales people at Goldman did not say that the bank was comfortable because it was betting against them by buying 51% of the shorts.  Did Goldman have an obligation to disclose the fact that the bank had bought shorts (i.e., that Goldman had an adverse interest to the client)?   Goldman’s bankers point to the potential buyers’ ability to investigate the securities themselves. The Anderson was downgraded from AAA to junk in seven months.

“Boy, that Timberwolf was one shitty deal.”  This is from an internal Goldman email from the head of a division prior to the bank selling hundreds of millions from that deal to customers. Sales people were told that that deal was their top priority. “Should Goldman be trying to sell a shitty deal?”, Sen. Levin repeatedly asked throughout the hearing.  Seventeen of the people at Graywolf’s research group were Golden alums. Was that why the sales people were told to make the deal a priority?

In general terms, some of the managers at Goldman liked the risk involved in securitizing stated-income mortgages because clients wanted to buy them.  As a market-maker, Goldman’s managers believe that there is a price for any risk, so they would sell a deal they believed to be bad because some clients would like the price. In one case, 90% of the mortgages from an originator were stated-income.  In spite of the high number of stated-income mortgages, the rating agency involved gave some of the securities the AAA rating. Did the Goldman sales people tell their clients of the extent of the stated-income mortgages in the securities? Or did the sales people assume that the clients could investigate the securities in spite of there being the AAA rating on at least some of them?  Goldman claims that it investigated the due diligence of originators, like Long Beach.   So why did the investment bank not cut off that originator?

When asked about the bonuses paid out even as the clients lost money, the Goldman managers said that the compensation incentives were or are in line with ethical behavior.  Even if Goldman lost money, its executives didn’t. So it is reasonable to ask whether the incentives are in line with “performing.”

Goldman magnified the rise and fall of the housing market. Lloyd Blankfein, Goldman’s Chairman and CEO (which is itself a conflict of interest) admitted that the bank had played a role, as did the other investment banks, in the system that included too loose lending criteria. The managers at Goldman said the bank was a market-maker for instruments that reflected those low standards. Sparks, who headed the mortgage securities unit at Goldman, said he didn’t think Goldman did anything wrong; rather, some of the deals it put together did not “perform”—meaning that they were downgraded to junk.  “Goldman made some bad business decisions.”  In a business sense, “bad” does not mean “wrong” in the sense of “ought not” (i.e., unethical).  Rather, “bad” refers to making an error in business calculations.   Similarly, David Vinair, Goldman’s executive VP, said he didn’t think there is a conflict of interest in Goldman selling a security long while shorting it on its own books.  The client buying the security long may have a different stance toward risk as well as a different time horizon than the bank.  Also, the bank may change its short to a long depending on factors that are different from those impacting a given client.  Sen. Levin countered that the conflict of interest is at the moment of sale (hence the bank’s changing preferences are irrelevant). The customer, Levin said, has a right to expect that the bank selling the security wants it to do well.  “In what sense do you mean well?”, Vinair countered.  More semantics ensued. In spite of using vague terms like “perform” (which is actually relevant to acting), Vinair wanted a definition of “doing well” from the chairman. Blankfein also said that there is no conflict of interest; he likened Goldman’s market-making function to that of a stock exchange. Investors don’t ask what positions the exchange has in given stock.  But unlike the NYSE, Goldman Sachs is not limited to its market-making function; the bank takes proprietary in the markets, or instruments, that it “creates” not only to protect its positions in the market-making transactions, but to make a profit by trading on its own books. Hence Goldman, unlike the NYSE, has financial interests other than simply making a market and such interests can warp its market-making function in ways that are not transparent to Goldman’s clients.

It seems to me that the major conflict of interest at Goldman manifests when Goldman managers suspect that a security won’t “perform” (hence the desire to short it) without telling the potential buyers of this belief.  The Goldman managers want to make money not only off its shorts, but also off the client, whom the Goldman sales staff have given a misconception of the security’s soundness either by omission or lying).  The conflict of interest deepens if Goldman managers actually know that a derivative has been put together to fail, and because the bank (or a favored client) will profit from its failure (having bought shorts), the relevant manager does not disclose what he or she knows to the client so the latter will purchase the security.  Goldman would profit both from trading the security (shorting it) on its own books aside from being a counter-party to clients taking long positions, and from being such a counter-party.  That is, profiting from Goldman’s books entails transactions beyond the counter-party transactions prompted by a client wanting to buy or sell. Not recognizing this as a conflict of interest, Sparks limited conflicts of interest at Goldman to picking between two customers, or between one of its customers and Goldman’s proprietary bank. The problem with such a narrow reading of the bank’s conflicts of interest is that it omits the impact of Goldman’s proprietary transactions based on profiting on its own capital. I wonder if this narrowness of perception isn’t related to the “cognitive warping” that was evinced in many of the non-answers of the managers testifying before Congress. “I didn’t write that” is irrelevant; so too are the bank’s proprietary transactions geared to profiting from the bank’s own books aside from being a counter-party to a client in the bank’s market-making function.

I believe that even Lloyd Blankfein viewed all of Goldman’s transactions as market-making.  But he was correct, then every single economic transaction by any party constitutes market-making; every business is making a market.  At Goldman, there was still the conflict of interest regarding the bank’s profiting on its own books not from being a counter-party to a client as part of serving the client versus from serving a buyer or seller client by being the counter-party if necessary.  Goldman can be understood to profit as a broker (a fee in putting a buyer and seller together), as well as from how it does as a counter-party in such a transaction. In addition, Goldman can profit from trading on its own books irrespective of being such a counter-party. I contend that if Goldman is to do the first function, then either of the latter two—and especially the third—constitutes a structural or institutional conflict of interest.  The second function would not be a conflict of interest were Goldman’s counter-party profits (and losses) passed on to the client.  Perhaps even the third function would not constitute a structural conflict of interest were the profits distributed to the bank’s clients.  However, to the extent that there could be an interest in currying favor with particular clients who would benefit differentially in either the second or third function, there could still be a conflict of interest for Goldman.

In general terms, a conflict of interest can be seen as involving lying (or duplicity) in order to benefit “both ways” from having two conflicting interests.  The solution is to reduce the number of interests that a party has such that he or she has no interests that could or do conflict.  This is a different question than asking what legislation is needed, for the field of business ethics ought not be conflated with the field of business & government (i.e., institutional political economy) or even with that of business & society.

Societal norms are not justifying regarding whether a given practice is or is not a conflict of interest.  Theoretically, a firm could deviate from the norms of a society in order to avoid structural conflicts of interest, or a society could simply be blind to such conflicts and a firm act to avoid them anyway.  In other words, business ethics need not involve “social responsibility”  (and the latter need not involve the former).   In the case of Goldman, the social norms regarding such conflicts of interest (i.e., structural) are in their infancy, at least in the US.  Hence, this discussion of business ethics is a distinct project.  Business & Society would investigate the disjointedness of the paradigms of the bankers and the general public–that is, how and why they differ. Business & Government would investigate legislative and/or regulatory matters concerning the conflicts of interest as evinced by Goldman.

While the three fields are related, so too are medical ethics, sociology and biology. You don’t find schools putting these three in one class because it would be cheaper.  So part of the problem concerning business ethics might be how it is treated by business schools; it (as well as CSR and business & goverment) is essentially relegated to one third of a course in most undergraduate and MBA curriculi.  Among the lessons that we ought to have learned from the financial crisis of 2008 is that of the value, or importance, of the fields of business ethics, business & society, and business & government in business schools.  Sadly, even in educating their respective scholars, these fields are conflated–hence the scholars are not apt to study sufficiently in the basic discipline of their particular field.  That is, they tend to skim along the surface in order to cover three rather than one field. Perhaps business schools have a conflict of interest of their own whereby they have an interest in cost-saving expediency and in covering all of the fields of business. The three fields being discussed here have been willingly mitigated (or enervated) into “one” such that business schools could appear to have it both ways.  The problem is when something happens like the financial crisis of 2008, which shows just how vital each of the three fields are–meaning worthy of courses of their own.

On May 11, 2010,  U.S. Dept. of the Interior Secretary Ken Salazar announced that he would separate the public safety and environmental enforcement side of the Minerals Management Services (M.M.S.) agency from its leasing and revenue collection function. While this move eliminateed the structural conflict of interest in the agency, it might not do enough to protect the regulatory function of the agency’s public safety and environmental enforcement roles.  The regulator can all too easily be coopted, or captured, by the firms it is regulating.

According to The New York Times, M.M.S. agency has routinely overruled its staff biologists and engineers who raised concerns about the safety and the environmental impact of certain drilling proposals in the gulf and in Alaska, according to a half-dozen current and former agency scientists. Those scientists said they were also regularly pressured by agency officials to change the findings of their internal studies if they predicted that an accident was likely to occur or if wildlife might be harmed.  “M.M.S. has given up any pretense of regulating the offshore oil industry,” said Kierán Suckling, director of the Center for Biological Diversity, an environmental advocacy group in Tucson, which filed notice of intent to sue the agency over its noncompliance with federal law concerning endangered species. “The agency seems to think its mission is to help the oil industry evade environmental laws.” One scientist who has worked for M.M.S. for more than a decade, said, “You simply are not allowed to conclude that the drilling will have an impact. If you find the risks of a spill are high or you conclude that a certain species will be affected, your report gets disappeared in a desk drawer and they find another scientist to redo it or they rewrite it for you.” For one thing, the regulators rely on information from the firms–data that is hardly provided in an objective fashion.  But such reliance pales in comparison with the political muscle of the oil companies–their campaign contributions being just the tip of the iceberg.  Moreover, large concentrations of capital are inherently a threat to a viable republic.

It should be no surprise that the government would welcome the cooperation from the companies involved in the accident in the Gulf; it reduced the pressure on the officials to go after the companies (and hence risk alienating their future contributions).  According to The New York Times, “Under federal law, even in the case of a major accident, the company responsible for the oil well acts in concert with government in cleanup activities and can help put out information about the response effort.”  Shortly after the spill, government agencies and BP set up a joint information center and a Web site detailing remediation efforts. BP started to promote its attempts to “stop the bleeding” (i.e., cut off the leaking oil in the Gulf).  With a restored image, the company could resume lobbying for less regulation, even though the accident demonstrates insufficient enforcement.

Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/12/us/12interior.html?ref=us ; http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/14/us/14agency.html?hp

In Senate testamony on May 11th, 2010,  the three companies did their best to point the finger at each other, with the result that neither BP, Transocean or Halliburton would admit, undoubtedly for liability purposes, any contributory role. In the midst of such liability evasion, those of us in the wider society want to get to the bottom of the accident so future such accidents can be prevented. In pointing the finger at the other guy while ignoring one’s own role, the managers of the three companies are added insult to injury.  The BP executive did not mention that several days before the explosion on the Deepwater Horizon oil rig, BP officials chose, partly for financial reasons, to use a type of casing for the well that the company knew was the riskier of two options, according to a BP document. Specifically, BP managers opted for a “long string” pipe for the well rather than a liner tieback that would have cost $7 million to $10 million but would have added barriers to prevent gas from reaching the surface.  BP managers were not unaware of this risk. The concern with the method BP chose, the document said, was that if the cement around the casing pipe did not seal properly, gases could leak all the way to the wellhead, where only a single seal would serve as a barrier. As another instance of cutting corners to save time and money, BP engineers used just six “centralizers,” rather than twenty-one as recommended by Halliburton, to stabilize the well before cementing it. According to an April 16, 2010 email from BP’s well team leader, the problem was that the extra centralizers would have taken ten hours to install. Another official wrote of the decision: “Who cares, it’s done, end of story, will probably be fine.”   BP managers also decided not to take twelve hours to completely circulate the heavy drilling fluid in the well that would have enabled detection and removal of any leaking gas. BP also skipped a test to determine if the cement had properly bonded to the well and rock formations. A petroleum engineer independent of BP told a congressional committee that the decision was “horribly negligent.”



Workers from the rig and company officials said that hours before the explosion, gases were leaking through the cement, which had been set in place by the oil services contractor, Halliburton, which Dick Cheney once ran. But it was not merely the casing and cement that were problematic. On 60 Minutes on May 16, 2010, a worker who was on the rig when the accident happened spoke of a BP manager overruling a Transocean manager to cut corners, such as beginning to drain the pressure fluid from the well before the third “cork” was installed.  The methane was able to reach the rig’s engines because there was insufficient pressure to keep the gas down in the well.  Also, a BP manager had earlier ignored the worker’s warning that there were shreds of rubber coming up in the drilling–the rubber being from the device that was supposed to take pressure readings (e.g., whether there is gas in the well).  Nevertheless, the BP manager who testified before the Senate blamed Transocean and Halliburton managers, and on the morning after the 60 Minutes interview BP’s COO said he was just focused on the clean-up and knew nothing of such “details” even though his specialty was in development and exploration. Both in cutting corners and in ignoring his job description, BP’s COO demonstrates a willful disregard for societal norms wherein society itself is protected and accountability is accepted.  Sadly, this attitude is not uncommon in the business world.

Perhaps as business operations expand in businesses too big to fail, the societal dangers in the attitude are magnified because more damage can result. In other words, it becomes increasingly dangerous to a society to allow such an attitude to exist.  Where societal norms are ignored by business managers, perhaps the societal norm that allows for their authority should be rescinded as well. This is a social contract reading of society, wherein if one side of the norms are broken, the other side is deemed invalid as well.  The problem is that social contracts unravel rather slowly or incrementally, such that a dangerous attitude can be allowed to remain in a position of authority.  It is worth investigating whether violating societal norms is actually detrimental to a company’s bottom line. 

To the extent that a social contract has a certain inertia, it may be that the bottom line can survive long enough to allow the attitude to survive and perhaps even prosper.   These matters are distinct from questions of justification, which lie in the field of business ethics, and from those of whether more government regulation is needed, which lie in the field of business and government. We can define corporate social responsibility as meeting the general expectation in a society that people admit to their wrong-doing or mistakes and make amends.  This is different from the ethical question of whether people should admit to their wrong-doing or mistakes and if so why.  It is also distinct from the question of the proper relationship between business and government.  Business and society involves the relationship of business interest and societal norms.  To treat the latter (or the former, for that matter) as ethical requires ethical justification, which is more than simply aligning business and societal norms.  In other words, a societal norm is not in itself ethically justifying (consider Nazi Germany as a case in point).  With these distinctions in mind, I turn now to the field of business and society.

I contend that the people at BP (and Halliburton) admitting to their role and paying for economic damages incurred by third parties would be more important than BP’s charitable giving, even if some people in the wider society may have let BP off the hook for the accident if the company’s managers had decided to announce a new philanthropical project unrelated to the accident. Working on another society problem does not make up for having not admitted to BP managers' negligence.  Culpability, on other words. cannot be obviated or transferred so easily.

Too often, business managers use the term “responsibility” even as they are evading it for financial reasons. BP initially estimated the daily output of the leaks at between one and fourteen thousand barrels a day; BP picked the low end-point because the amount of fines the company would pay was tied to the volume. That the company managers were misleading the wider society didn’t seem to factor into their financial decision. As a result, the anticipated damage to the Gulf (and the world) was not sufficiently appreciated in the wider society. The convenient use of  the term “responsibility” can be gleemed from the Senate testamony of Lamar McKay of BP.  “As a responsible party under the Oil Pollution Act,” he said, ”we will carry out our responsibilities.” But he quickly added that Transocean “had responsibility for the safety of the drilling operations.”  That is to say, he acknowledged the obligation to be responsible for his mistakes while conveniently ignoring the mistakes made at his company. By pointing the finger at people at another company, McKay was contradicting his own asseveration on being responsible.  It is like he was lying even as he insisted that people shouldn’t lie.

Pointing the finger is childish, even if it is done for financial reasons. Steven L. Newman, president and chief executive of Transocean, did no better that the BP executive when he said that the accident had to have arisen from elements of the work done by other companies. “Were all appropriate tests run on the cement and the casing?” he asked, apparently implicating Halliburton. Tim Probert of Halliburton said in turn that all work on the casing by his company was carried out “as directed by the well owner,” meaning BP.  Suggesting that the men act like adults and take responsibility for what their coworkers had done (or failed to d0), the ranking Republican minority member on the Senate Energy and Natural Resources Committee, Lisa Murkowski of Alaska, told them to stop the finger-pointing. “I would suggest to all three of you that we are all in this together,” she said. Notice that she is pointing to a societal norm, rather than using an ethical rationale. She is essentially asking the executives to step up to societal standards. Unfortunately, there was no sign that the three boys would take responsibility for their actions, as they continued on, still oriented to the other guy.  The cost to society includes a more difficult route to uncovering the cause of the accident and possible accidents to come from BP. The company’s clean-up efforts do not address the cause of the accident; the spending does not go far enough. In other words, BP can’t spend its way out of it…or can it?  Are there societal norms that allow it to suffice?  My question is this: why hasn’t the social contract unravelled that has allowed the managers at BP to continue to hold their jobs (and BP to remain in business)?  Is economic liberty at play here–society saying that there is room in such liberty for a shirking attitude?

Sources:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/27/us/27rig.html?hpl
“Congress Says BP Crew Focused on Costs,” The Wall Street Journal,  June 15, 2010, p. A5.

I contend that Robert Benmosche, CEO of AIG, had an incorrect understanding of corporate governance when he told Harvey Golub, then-chairman of the board, on July 14, 2010, “One of us should stay and one of us should go.” He should have, “Please let me know if the board would like me to go.” Put bluntly, the CEO works for the board, not vice versa. The previous May, Benmosche told Golub, “We can’t work together. I need a partner who I can bounce ideas off and give me advice.” However,a CEO and a chairman do not work together as partners. Rather, the chairman—and the board more generally—act on behalf of the stockholders to oversee the management, which the board has hired. In other words, a CEO is an employee whereas a chairman is not. Benmosche’s comment is actually rather presumptuous.

Benmosche’s upside-down approach to corporate governance is evident from the way he went about trying to sell AIG’s biggest overseas life insurer, AIA, to Prudential. Rather than being surprised that Golub did not support the sale, he should have taken note of Golub’s surprise that he had not informed the board earlier. As another example, rather than being annoyed that the board didn’t push Treasury’s pay czar harder to sign off on his $10 million pay package, Benmosche might have asked the board if they supported the proposed compensation.

One of the principal jobs of a corporate board is to assess the CEO (and hence the management) and to fire him or her if the board decides it would be in the stockholders’ interest. The CEO works for the board, not vice versa. It is not a partnership arrangement. It is the CEO’s responsibility to act within the support of the board, rather than to threaten its chair for not playing ball. Benmosche illustrates the arrogance that come occur when an employee is over-compensated and spoiled.  Benmosche should have been grateful to the AIG board for having agreed to a compensation package of $10 million rather than critizicing them for not essentially working for him in pressuring the Treasury.

From this case, we can extract the following lesson. A CEO should not chair the board whose task it is to assess him or her. Such duality is a contradiction in terms—effectively attempting to interiorize within the CEO accountability that is external (i.e., interpersonal). As Benmosche had already turned to Robert Miller, who replaced Golub, for advice and found him to be supportive, AIG may have essentially installed a puppet—hence compromising the board’s role in overseeing the CEO.

I once asked Armstrong when he was both CEO and chairman of ATT whether he saw any conflict of interest in his chairing of the body tasked with assessing him. He replied that the buck stopped with him—that he needed the authority to integrate cable, computer and telephone technologies into broad-band. However, in hiring him, the board should have signed off on his strategy, hence giving him all the authority he needed to implement it. In effect, Armstrong was over-reaching in claiming that such authority was not sufficient. When his strategy failed, the external accountability function of the board was compromised.

In general terms, CEOs are too powerful with respect to “their” boards.  In being an enabling partner rather than a parent, too many boards are unwittingly undercutting their raison d’etre. To the extent that the managements of banks contributed to the crisis in September, 2008, corporate governance with real accountability can be seen as critical not only to our financial system, but to the economy itself. We can ill-afford too many spoiled adult-children.

Source: Joann S. Lubin and Serena Ng, “Battle at AIG Board: You Go, or I Do.” The Wall Street Journal (July 16, 2010), pp. C1, C4.

In an executive meeting at Lehman in the summer of 2008, Skip McGee told Richard Fuld and the other top executives that the market was demanding “that we hold ourselves accountable.”  Essentially, he was pushing for Gregory’s outster.  What strikes me is what he didn’t say–namely, something like, “the stockholders are holding us accountable!”  Had he said this, Fuld might have laughed. Of course, Richard Fuld was a major stockholder, so he might have viewed it as “holding myself accountable to myself.”  Given the inherent ethical conflict of interest in such a statement, I don’t think we can rely on corporate governance as a check on excessive managerial risk-taking when executives hold a substantial share of the stock.  Therefore, in including stock options in executive compensation to align executives' incentives with medium and long-term firm performance, boards should add institutional safeguards or accountability mechanisms to corporate governance. In business-speak, there is a cost incurred that boards may not be aware of in aligning executive compensation (and firm ownership) with future profitability.

I believe the Lehman example demonstrates how corporate governance can fail rather clearly.According to a report by Anton R. Valukas, an examiner for the bank, Lehman used “materially misleading” accounting gimmicks involving repos to mask the perilous state of the bank’s financial condition. According to the report, Lehman utilized what amounts to financial engineering in order to temporarily shuffle $50 billion of troubled assets off the bank's books in the months before its collapse in September of 2008. The intent here was to conceal the bank's dependence on leverage, or borrowed money. Lehmans’ senior managers appear to have structured transactions such that they would sell securities at the end of a quarter, only to buy them back again days later. These assets were mostly illiquid real estate holdings, meaning that they were hard to sell in normal transactions. The effect of the accounting flash-of-hand was to artificially and temporarily lower the bank’s debt levels to hit certain targets, making the firm look healthier than it really was.

Lehman's managers managed to “shed” about $39 billion from the bank's balance sheet at the end of the fourth quarter of 2007, $49 billion in the first quarter of 2008 and $50 billion in the second quarter. At that time, Lehman managers sought to reassure the public that the bank's finances were fine. Herbert McDade, a senior exec at Lehmans, wrote, “I am very aware … it is another drug we r on,” in an April 2008 e-mail cited by the examiner’s report. Senior Lehman executives, as well as the bank’s accountants at Ernst & Young, were aware of the moves, according to Mr. Valukas.  In certifying the “actionable balance sheet manipulation,” Richard Fuld was “at least grossly negligent.” Other executives named in the examiner’s report in connection with the use of the accounting tool include three former Lehman chief financial officers: Christopher O’Meara, Erin Callan and Ian Lowitt.  Notably, Lehman’s directors were not aware of the accounting engineering.  That not even the board’s audit committee was aware is telling from the standpoint of corporate governance–especially if the report is correct in its claim that the bank’s public accountants from Ernst & Young were in the loop.

The Lehmans case suggests that board audit committees ought not to rely exclusively on their public accountants.  The structural conflict of interest wherein CPA firms rely on the firms they audit for continued business was not obviated or solved after the Arthur Andersen case.  Years before that case (and computers), “as per comptroller, discrepancy resolved” was a regular “tick mark” on green CPA audit sheets. I can still remember the actual tick mark I used (a check with a line through the stem) as a young public accountant at one of the Big Eight.  We were so big.  Senior audit managers simply included the tick mark without any fanfare in going over the standard tick-marks in training. During audits, the tick-mark was simply thought of as a technical matter. New auditors fresh out of college would have no basis to question the check-mark because ethical considerations do not enter in when a technical language of business normalizes all practices. Accordingly, the conflict of interest issue was essentially below the radar when I was a public accountant.  It is difficult to spot something as sticking out from among the normal that is treated as typical. I suspect the partners in the firms knew of the obvious conflict of interst in "as per controller, discrepancy resolved," but I don’t know whether the tick-mark was intentionally portrayed as simply one technical matter among others in "how to do an audit."  Therefore, transparency had to come from outside of the industry–from the media in the wake of a major scandal--not from a government too involved with industry's lobbyists. One might wonder where (or whether) we can expect corporate governance reform.

In general terms, corporate senior managements have much too much leverage over stockholders and the boards that are meant to oversee the management.  Proposed reforms from the White House do not make a dent.  For example, requiring a “non-binding” stockholder vote on executive compensation strikes me as a declaration of surrender to the titans.  “Non-binding.”  Why waste our representatives’ time with such window-dressing designed to look like it is correcting for another kind of window-dressing.  Everyone, it would seem, is busy polishing windows and nobody has guts enough to come up with structural reforms with teeth.  No one is willing to take the drugs away from the children playing will millions and sometimes billions of dollars.  We, and our governments, are enablers, and we settle for far too little…then we are surprised when the kids are caught with their fat ruddy hands in the cookie jar again. Ultimately, we, the American People, are to blame…and as Lehmans shows, our financial system and economy may hang in the balance.

Sources:
Andrew Sorkin’s Too Big to Fail
 http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/12/business/12lehman.html

See also: http://money.cnn.com/2010/03/12/news/companies/lehman_examiner/index.htm?hpt=T1

In July, 2010, a few days after the Agricultural Bank went public in an IPO bringing in $22 billion, dozens of former bank employees stealthily gathered outside the headquarters of the country’s central bank. Like many other state-owned companies, the bank slashed its payroll and restructured in order to raise profitability and make the bank more financially attractive to outside investors. By Western standards, the bank was overstaffed, a legacy of its role as one of the pillars of China’s socialist financial system. The fired bankers have no legal redress in China. In 2000, the Supreme People’s Court put an end to any hope that the legal system might adjudicate such disputes, saying that plaintiffs from state companies had no standing in Chinese courts. So the ex-bankers protest—at least they attempt to do so before being picked up by a coordinated police response. This dynamic should come as no surprise to anyone.  What might not be so apparent is the ability of the banks to use the police to go after recalcitrant ex-employees. The banks are so powerful that they can enlist the local police to keep an eye on the most troublesome employees, often following them to Beijing, where their protests and petitioning can prove embarrassing for executives back home. One ex-employee said, “The head of my branch said he would never give me my money and spend any amount to fight me to the end.”  I contend that it is troubling that the director of a bank branch whose mentality it is to spend any amount of money to fight an ex-employee has police-power at his beck and call.  Beyond the lack of an independent judiciary in China, the possibility that a banker in any country could have a police force at his or her ruddy fat hands is something that ought to be investigated.  While it might be tempting to relegate such a scenerio exclusively to China, European and American states are most likely not immune either.

Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/16/world/asia/16china.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&dbk