Ingo Walter
It used to be
that financial institutions indicted on a criminal charge went out of business
long before they had their day in court in a proper jury trial, which is their
right. Instead, clients and employees would flee and regulators would be forced
to withdraw their operating licenses. Unlike individuals convicted on a
criminal charge, this is as close as things ever came to jailing an
institution. Not anymore.
By sowing
fear and intimidation among its regulators and law enforcement officials - based
entirely on its own vulnerability to punishment - the Credit Suisse pleaded
guilty to a criminal offense and emerged as a convicted felon clean as a
whistle, with no apparent effect on its business, its management or its
shareholders.
Having confessed
to one count of criminal fraud, CEO Brady Dougan told a press conference on May
20th he didn’t think there would be any effects on the bank – no
“material impact on our operations or capabilities.” There was the small matter
of $2.6 billion in fines and penalties, but he said that could be earned back
by the end of the year and wouldn’t affect the bank’s regulatory capital. No serious
changes in strategy. No senior management changes. No discernible boardroom
reaction. No client defections. No investor flight. Just business as usual.
Credit Suisse stock in Zurich was up 2% on the day in an otherwise flat market.
Except for
some media commentators, nobody seemed to care very much. The corporate-speak
wordsmiths trotted out the importance of “putting the matter behind us.” Life
goes on.
We like to think
market discipline works. Corporate boards are supposed to be serious guardians
of long-term shareholder value and oversee to the best of their ability and
judgment the “market-economy trinity” that drives it – revenue growth, cost
control and risk management. When things like market share losses or operating
inefficiencies or excessive risk exposures pose a threat, directors presumably
agitate for corrective action and in extreme cases change the management. Most
shareholders in turn rely on institutional investors to watch out for their
interests and vote their proxies. So owners ultimately depend on both asset
managers and boards to do their jobs properly – the so-called “double agency”
problem.
Especially in
the case of large “systemic” financial institutions, regulators have an
additional voice in corporate governance. They are supposed to represent the
public interest and protect the taxpayer, the ultimate guarantor of financial system
integrity. If the taxpayer must bear the risk, the taxpayer must have a voice. So
the CS case can be considered a remarkable quadruple governance failure - the management,
the board, institutional investors and the regulators. But if nobody really
does care it may not be a failure at all, just a new chapter in the rules of
the game.
At the other
end of the spectrum, people worried about integrity of the financial system may
consider the CS case a serious challenge to the institutional underpinnings of the
liberal market system. Credit Suisse stood accused, certainly not alone, of
aiding and abetting tax evasion (not tax avoidance) by tax residents of the
United States, a country that taxes income earned globally and considers
willful tax misreporting a criminal offense. Unlike its rival UBS, which
settled civil charges of aiding and abetting tax evasion with the IRS back in
2010 - in a proceeding that included a $780 million fine and release of client
information approved by the Swiss government. CS was late to the party. It had
already been charged by the time a 2013 agreement was reached to extract “voluntary”
disclosures and settlements with other Swiss banks that are now being
individually negotiated.
As well, CS
stood accused of obstruction and failure to cooperate with US authorities in
their investigations (never a good idea), while two of its employees had
already pleaded guilty to criminal charges and six more cases were pending.
Obstruction,
conspiracy, evasion ... these are not good words, especially after politically
charged remarks by US Attorney General Eric Holder that criminally prosecuting
systemically important financial institutions may impossible due to the
unacceptable economic risk of their own demise – and voilá, the now famous term “too big to jail” was coined. Right
after the CS guilty plea, Holder somehow concluded: “This case shows that no
financial institution, no matter its size and global reach, is above the law.”
Really?
The Credit
Suisse case breaks new ground on the slippery slope of accountability failures
in the financial sector since the effective end of criminal prosecutions (subject
to appropriately high standards of culpability) in cases like Daiwa Bank,
Drexel Burnham and Arthur Andersen, firms which apparently were not considered “systemic”
or immune from criminal prosecution at the time. All disappeared.
Each of these
firms’ collapse involved significant damage to their stakeholders. But it’s a
good guess that the thousands of talented, loyal and honest employees who lost
their jobs soon found new ones, and for many it was the best thing that ever happened
to them. Competitors quickly circled to take advantage of a golden opportunity
to recruit. The market for talent actually works. Financial functions are
immortal. Financial firms are not.
Like Voodoo,
the concept of “too big to jail” is probably nothing more than a myth. But like
Voodoo, though, it is a powerful one. Over the years has deflected regulatory
enforcement into produced a waterfall of civil suits against prominent financial
businesses. Most of the time they ended in negotiated “no contest” pleas,
combining hefty fines and “deferred prosecution” agreements. Allegations of
overzealous prosecutors extorting settlements from targeted banks were balanced
by lots of repeat offenders - to the point that expected litigation costs now
seem to be routinely provisioned in bank financial statements and operating budgets,
just like any other costs, and have become part of the business model. Financial
analysts and investors don’t appear to see anything unusual about litigation
costs, and get nervous only when they turn out to be eye-watering.
Looking for
the good news? Even with all the fault-lines in internal and external
governance, there is a last line of defense - the threat to a firm’s reputational
capital. But banks and other financial firms that require trust and confidence
to operate presumably have valuable reputations at stake. First-rate clients
prefer to deal with first-rate banks, so serious losses in reputational capital
ought to be reflected in the share price. This in turn ought to catch the
attention of management, boards, investors, and ultimately regulators.
Studies of
the stock price impact of reputational losses have in fact shown that there are
serious and immediate share-price effects triggered by an array of negative
reputational events. In one study these averaged 7% of market capitalization. Still,
reputations can be reestablished over time, and there’s no way of estimating
the longer-term consequences. In an industry where the long term is often after
lunch, stakeholders may not care very much about reputations - even in criminal
cases - as long as they remain “fit and proper” to do business, which means
that exemptions from regulatory
decertification have to be negotiated in advance.
The Credit Suisse
case is a feat of superb lawyering and regulatory acrobatics, vaulting
substance and plain old common sense. It probably spells the end of “mortality”
of systemic financial firms. It puts the last nail in the coffin of holding
entire firms accountable by inflicting meaningful pain in hopes of changing
behavior in an industry where violations are often “industry practice” rather
than firm-specific aberrations.
So what’s the
other good news? Cumulating outrange among a long-suffering and already testy
public almost six years after the financial crisis with little apparent
improvement in the conduct of financial firms raises the likelihood that in the
next round of transgressions the focus will be on individuals rather than firms
themselves – including officers and directors. Real people must have made
decisions that led to prosecutable criminal behavior. Even in the
organizational labyrinth of global financial conglomerates, meetings were held
and people took positions, and in the end they can be traced. Those who are
tagged for committing or conspiring in criminal violations will have to face
due process, and most likely will be hung out to dry by their employers. In
criminal cases, the recent Credit Suisse outcome suggests this may be the only
way to go.
No comments:
Post a Comment