By all accounts, JPMorgan Chase is on the verge of a record-setting $13 billion settlement with the Justice Department and other state and federal regulators that will resolve the bank’s civil liability to the government for the sale of mortgage-backed securities, by JPMorgan itself and by Bear Stearns and Washington Mutual. We still don’t know precisely what admission JPMorgan will make as part of the deal, and based on the bank’s shrewd blame-taking in its London Whale trade losses settlement with the Securities and Exchange Commission, we can assume any admissions will be tailored to limit collateral damage in private litigation. Nonetheless, regardless of how JPMorgan phrases its acceptance of responsibility, the bank’s $13 billion settlement is an acknowledgment of the obvious: The mortgage-backed securities market was infested at its foundation, like a house gnawed away by termites.
If you haven’t already, please read Charlie Savage’s fascinating story, “Door May Open for Challenge to Secret Wiretaps,” in Thursday’s New York Times. Savage reported that the Justice Department is poised for the first time to notify a criminal defendant that evidence against him was obtained through the FISA Amendment Act of 2008 (FAA), which granted the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court the power to approve sweeping, warrantless wiretapping. The notification is significant because it will establish the defendant’s standing, under the U.S. Supreme Court’s ruling last February in Clapper v. Amnesty International, to challenge the constitutionality of warrantless wiretapping authorized under the FAA.
A young Floridian named Daniel Wultz died tragically in 2006 when he was fatally wounded in a suicide bombing at a bus stop in Tel Aviv. Wultz’s parents believe that among those responsible for their son’s death is Bank of China, which they accuse of facilitating payments to Palestine Islamic Jihad, the group said to be responsible for the attack. The Wultzes and their lawyers at Boies, Schiller & Flexner contend that Israeli counterterrorism officials warned the Chinese government at meetings in China in April 2005 that an alleged Islamic Jihad leader, Said al-Shurafa, was financing the group’s operations through his Bank of China accounts. The Wultzes’ Antiterrorism Act suit, filed in federal court in Washington but later transferred to Manhattan federal court, alleges that Chinese officials passed those warnings on to the bank.
Fifteen years ago, when trial lawyers were flush with cash from representing state attorneys general in their global $365 billion settlement with the tobacco industry, the phrase “regulation through litigation” was much in vogue. On the plaintiffs’ side, it was a rallying cry, a call for lawyers to use the tactics of the tobacco litigation – including their partnership with state regulators – to accomplish societal goals, such as reducing gun violence or cutting carbon emissions. Tort reformers, meanwhile, sounded alarms about ceding policy-making to unelected lawyers driven by their own potential profits. Despite the fervor on both sides, regulation through litigation turned out to be more of a slogan than a reality as ambitious cases against, for instance, gun- and lead- paint makers faltered.
When Matthew Mustokoff of Kessler Topaz Meltzer & Check walked out of oral arguments before U.S. District Judge Keith Ellison of Houston last November, he wasn’t at all sure that his case – a suit by individual pension funds claiming to have been duped by BP – would survive BP’s motion to dismiss. The judge had expressed sympathy for holders of London-listed BP common shares, whose federal securities claims are barred by the U.S. Supreme Court’s 2010 ruling in Morrison v. National Australia Bank. Mustokoff and co-counsel from Jason Cowart of Pomerantz Hufford Dahlstrom & Gross were attempting to plead around Morrison by asserting fraud and misrepresentation claims under state and common law. But Judge Ellison seemed to be very interested in a novel constitutional argument BP’s lawyers at Sullivan & Cromwell had crafted in response to the pension funds’ Morrison-dodging. BP said that the funds’ case violated the dormant Commerce Clause as it applies to international commerce because state laws may not exceed the bounds of federal law. Funds couldn’t assert claims under state law, according to BP, when parallel federal-law claims were barred. Ellison was so intrigued by S&C’s Commerce Clause argument that at least half of the hearing on BP’s motion to dismiss the funds’ two related suits, Mustokoff told me, was dedicated to that defense.
The U.S. Supreme Court created securities class actions as we now know them in 1987, when an unusual four-justice majority held in Basic v. Levinson that investors in securities fraud cases may be presumed to rely on public misrepresentations about stock trading in an efficient market. Basic’s fraud-on-the-market theory made it possible for shareholders to win class certification without proving that class members made investment decisions based on the defendants’ alleged misstatements – a momentum-shifting boon to shareholders. The ruling has become such an essential building block of securities fraud litigation that since 1987, according to Westlaw, Basic has been cited almost 17,000 times.
Sarbanes-Oxley was enacted as a response to the collapse of Enron, and one of its intentions was to encourage employees to keep their companies honest. SOX included specific provisions for whistleblower reporting, as well as prohibitions on corporate retaliation against employees who bring concerns to their supervisors. That’s all straightforward enough when the purported whistleblowers are employees of public companies. But what about employees of private businesses doing work for public companies – like, say, the audit firm Arthur Andersen in the Enron scandal? If an accountant or any other employee of a private business is fired after detecting and reporting supposed wrongdoing uncovered in the course of providing services to a public company, can the employee sue under SOX?
To the long list of dire consequences if the United States defaults on debt obligations, here’s an addition you probably haven’t considered: litigation against the U.S. government for missed payments.
In all my long years of reporting on class actions, I can’t remember ever writing a story about one of the handful of U.S. companies in the business of administering settlements. Sure, I’ve covered BP’s recent feud with court-appointed claims administrator Patrick Juneau and the alleged misconduct of some of Juneau’s staff. But not about Garden City Group, PricewaterhouseCoopers or Brown Greer, the companies that are actually processing claims from the Deepwater Horizon oil spill litigation, under both Juneau and his predecessor at the Gulf Coast Claims Facility, Kenneth Feinberg of Feinberg Rozen. I’ve written about U.S. District Judge William Pauley chastising the Securities and Exchange Commission for failing to exercise strict supervision over the investors’ compensation fund established in the SEC’s 2009 settlement with Zurich Financial, but not about the fees Garden City Group charged to administer the investor fund. Claims administrators are an essential part of the class action mechanism. They’re the businesses that help lawyers figure out how to inform potential class members that they may have claims and subsequently evaluate the claims that are submitted. Yet there’s scant scrutiny of the claims administration business by journalists, or, for that matter, judges.
In an order issued late Friday, Judge Elizabeth Gonzalez of Nevada state court in Las Vegas effectively informed Dish Network Chairman Charles Ergen and his fellow board members that Dish’s peculiar corporate governance practices pose real risks to them and the company.