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A recent exchange between Chris Walker and Philip Hamburger about Walker’s ongoing empirical work on the Chevron doctrine (the idea that judges must defer to reasonable agency interpretations of ambiguous statutes) gives me a long-sought opportunity to discuss what I view as the greatest practical problem with the Chevron doctrine: it increases both politicization and polarization of law and policy. In the interest of being provocative, I will frame the discussion below by saying that both Walker & Hamburger are wrong (though actually I believe both are quite correct in their respective critiques). In particular, I argue that Walker is wrong that Chevron decreases politicization (it actually increases it, vice his empirics); and I argue Hamburger is wrong that judicial independence is, on its own, a virtue that demands preservation. Rather, I argue, Chevron increases overall politicization across the government; and judicial independence can and should play an important role in checking legislative abdication of its role as a politically-accountable legislature in a way that would moderate that overall politicization.

Walker, along with co-authors Kent Barnett and Christina Boyd, has done some of the most important and interesting work on Chevron in recent years, empirically studying how the Chevron doctrine has affected judicial behavior (see here and here) as well as that of agencies (and, I would argue, through them the Executive) (see here). But the more important question, in my mind, is how it affects the behavior of Congress. (Walker has explored this somewhat in his own work, albeit focusing less on Chevron than on how the role agencies play in the legislative process implicitly transfers Congress’s legislative functions to the Executive).

My intuition is that Chevron dramatically exacerbates Congress’s worst tendencies, encouraging Congress to push its legislative functions to the executive and to do so in a way that increases the politicization and polarization of American law and policy. I fear that Chevron effectively allows, and indeed encourages, Congress to abdicate its role as the most politically-accountable branch by deferring politically difficult questions to agencies in ambiguous terms.

One of, and possibly the, best ways to remedy this situation is to reestablish the role of judge as independent decisionmaker, as Hamburger argues. But the virtue of judicial independence is not endogenous to the judiciary. Rather, judicial independence has an instrumental virtue, at least in the context of Chevron. Where Congress has problematically abdicated its role as a politically-accountable decisionmaker by deferring important political decisions to the executive, judicial refusal to defer to executive and agency interpretations of ambiguous statutes can force Congress to remedy problematic ambiguities. This, in turn, can return the responsibility for making politically-important decisions to the most politically-accountable branch, as envisioned by the Constitution’s framers.

A refresher on the Chevron debate

Chevron is one of the defining doctrines of administrative law, both as a central concept and focal debate. It stands generally for the proposition that when Congress gives agencies ambiguous statutory instructions, it falls to the agencies, not the courts, to resolve those ambiguities. Thus, if a statute is ambiguous (the question at “step one” of the standard Chevron analysis) and the agency offers a reasonable interpretation of that ambiguity (“step two”), courts are to defer to the agency’s interpretation of the statute instead of supplying their own.

This judicially-crafted doctrine of deference is typically justified on several grounds. For instance, agencies generally have greater subject-matter expertise than courts so are more likely to offer substantively better constructions of ambiguous statutes. They have more resources that they can dedicate to evaluating alternative constructions. They generally have a longer history of implementing relevant Congressional instructions so are more likely attuned to Congressional intent – both of the statute’s enacting and present Congresses. And they are subject to more direct Congressional oversight in their day-to-day operations and exercise of statutory authority than the courts so are more likely concerned with and responsive to Congressional direction.

Chief among the justifications for Chevron deference is, as Walker says, “the need to reserve political (or policy) judgments for the more politically accountable agencies.” This is at core a separation-of-powers justification: the legislative process is fundamentally a political process, so the Constitution assigns responsibility for it to the most politically-accountable branch (the legislature) instead of the least politically-accountable branch (the judiciary). In turn, the act of interpreting statutory ambiguity is an inherently legislative process – the underlying theory being that Congress intended to leave such ambiguity in the statute in order to empower the agency to interpret it in a quasi-legislative manner. Thus, under this view, courts should defer both to this Congressional intent that the agency be empowered to interpret its statute (and, should this prove problematic, it is up to Congress to change the statute or to face political ramifications), and the courts should defer to the agency interpretation of that statute because agencies, like Congress, are more politically accountable than the courts.

Chevron has always been an intensively studied and debated doctrine. This debate has grown more heated in recent years, to the point that there is regularly scholarly discussion about whether Chevron should be repealed or narrowed and what would replace it if it were somehow curtailed – and discussion of the ongoing vitality of Chevron has entered into Supreme Court opinions and the appointments process with increasing frequency. These debates generally focus on a few issues. A first issue is that Chevron amounts to a transfer of the legislature’s Constitutional powers and responsibilities over creating the law to the executive, where the law ordinarily is only meant to be carried out. This has, the underlying concern is, contributed to the increase in the power of the executive compared to the legislature. A second, related, issue is that Chevron contributes to the (over)empowerment of independent agencies – agencies that are already out of favor with many of Chevron’s critics as Constitutionally-infirm entities whose already-specious power is dramatically increased when Chevron limits the judiciary’s ability to check their use of already-broad Congressionally-delegated authority.

A third concern about Chevron, following on these first two, is that it strips the judiciary of its role as independent arbiter of judicial questions. That is, it has historically been the purview of judges to answer statutory ambiguities and fill in legislative interstices.

Chevron is also a focal point for more generalized concerns about the power of the modern administrative state. In this context, Chevron stands as a representative of a broader class of cases – State Farm, Auer, Seminole Rock, Fox v. FCC, and the like – that have been criticized as centralizing legislative, executive, and judicial powers in agencies, allowing Congress to abdicate its role as politically-accountable legislator, abdicating the judiciary’s role in interpreting the law, as well as raising due process concerns for those subject to rules promulgated by federal agencies..

Walker and his co-authors have empirically explored the effects of Chevron in recent years, using robust surveys of federal agencies and judicial decisions to understand how the doctrine has affected the work of agencies and the courts. His most recent work (with Kent Barnett and Christina Boyd) has explored how Chevron affects judicial decisionmaking. Framing the question by explaining that “Chevron deference strives to remove politics from judicial decisionmaking,” they ask whether “Chevron deference achieve[s] this goal of removing politics from judicial decisionmaking?” They find that, empirically speaking, “the Chevron Court’s objective to reduce partisan judicial decision-making has been quite effective.” By instructing judges to defer to the political judgments (or just statutory interpretations) of agencies, judges are less political in their own decisionmaking.

Hamburger responds to this finding somewhat dismissively – and, indeed, the finding is almost tautological: “of course, judges disagree less when the Supreme Court bars them from exercising their independent judgment about what the law is.” (While a fair critique, I would temper it by arguing that it is nonetheless an important empirical finding – empirics that confirm important theory are as important as empirics that refute it, and are too often dismissed.)

Rather than focus on concerns about politicized decisionmaking by judges, Hamburger focuses instead on the importance of judicial independence – on it being “emphatically the duty of the Judicial Department to say what the law is” (quoting Marbury v. Madison). He reframes Walker’s results, arguing that “deference” to agencies is really “bias” in favor of the executive. “Rather than reveal diminished politicization, Walker’s numbers provide strong evidence of diminished judicial independence and even of institutionalized judicial bias.”

So which is it? Does Chevron reduce bias by de-politicizing judicial decisionmaking? Or does it introduce new bias in favor of the (inherently political) executive? The answer is probably that it does both. The more important answer, however, is that neither is the right question to ask.

What’s the correct measure of politicization? (or, You get what you measure)

Walker frames his study of the effects of Chevron on judicial decisionmaking by explaining that “Chevron deference strives to remove politics from judicial decisionmaking. Such deference to the political branches has long been a bedrock principle for at least some judicial conservatives.” Based on this understanding, his project is to ask whether “Chevron deference achieve[s] this goal of removing politics from judicial decisionmaking?”

This framing, that one of Chevron’s goals is to remove politics from judicial decisionmaking, is not wrong. But this goal may be more accurately stated as being to prevent the judiciary from encroaching upon the political purposes assigned to the executive and legislative branches. This restatement offers an important change in focus. It emphasizes the concern about politicizing judicial decisionmaking as a separation of powers issue. This is in apposition to concern that, on consequentialist grounds, judges should not make politicized decisions – that is, judges should avoid political decisions because it leads to substantively worse outcomes.

It is of course true that, as unelected officials with lifetime appointments, judges are the least politically accountable to the polity of any government officials. Judges’ decisions, therefore, can reasonably be expected to be less representative of, or responsive to, the concerns of the voting public than decisions of other government officials. But not all political decisions need to be directly politically accountable in order to be effectively politically accountable. A judicial interpretation of an ambiguous law, for instance, can be interpreted as a request, or even a demand, that Congress be held to political account. And where Congress is failing to perform its constitutionally-defined role as a politically-accountable decisionmaker, it may do less harm to the separation of powers for the judiciary to make political decisions that force politically-accountable responses by Congress than for the judiciary to respect its constitutional role while the Congress ignores its role.

Before going too far down this road, I should pause to label the reframing of the debate that I have impliedly proposed. To my mind, the question isn’t whether Chevron reduces political decisionmaking by judges; the question is how Chevron affects the politicization of, and ultimately accountability to the people for, the law. Critically, there is no “conservation of politicization” principle. Institutional design matters. One could imagine a model of government where Congress exercises very direct oversight over what the law is and how it is implemented, with frequent elections and a Constitutional prohibition on all but the most express and limited forms of delegation. One can also imagine a more complicated form of government in which responsibilities for making law, executing law, and interpreting law, are spread across multiple branches (possibly including myriad agencies governed by rules that even many members of those agencies do not understand). And one can reasonably expect greater politicization of decisions in the latter compared to the former – because there are more opportunities for saying that the responsibility for any decision lies with someone else (and therefore for politicization) in the latter than in the “the buck stops here” model of the former.

In the common-law tradition, judges exercised an important degree of independence because their job was, necessarily and largely, to “say what the law is.” For better or worse, we no longer live in a world where judges are expected to routinely exercise that level of discretion, and therefore to have that level of independence. Nor do I believe that “independence” is necessarily or inherently a criteria for the judiciary, at least in principle. I therefore somewhat disagree with Hamburger’s assertion that Chevron necessarily amounts to a problematic diminution in judicial independence.

Again, I return to a consequentialist understanding of the purposes of judicial independence. In my mind, we should consider the need for judicial independence in terms of whether “independent” judicial decisionmaking tends to lead to better or worse social outcomes. And here I do find myself sympathetic to Hamburger’s concerns about judicial independence. The judiciary is intended to serve as a check on the other branches. Hamburger’s concern about judicial independence is, in my mind, driven by an overwhelmingly correct intuition that the structure envisioned by the Constitution is one in which the independence of judges is an important check on the other branches. With respect to the Congress, this means, in part, ensuring that Congress is held to political account when it does legislative tasks poorly or fails to do them at all.

The courts abdicate this role when they allow agencies to save poorly drafted statutes through interpretation of ambiguity.

Judicial independence moderates politicization

Hamburger tells us that “Judges (and academics) need to wrestle with the realities of how Chevron bias and other administrative power is rapidly delegitimizing our government and creating a profound alienation.” Huzzah. Amen. I couldn’t agree more. Preach! Hear-hear!

Allow me to present my personal theory of how Chevron affects our political discourse. In the vernacular, I call this Chevron Step Three. At Step Three, Congress corrects any mistakes made by the executive or independent agencies in implementing the law or made by the courts in interpreting it. The subtle thing about Step Three is that it doesn’t exist – and, knowing this, Congress never bothers with the politically costly and practically difficult process of clarifying legislation.

To the contrary, Chevron encourages the legislature expressly not to legislate. The more expedient approach for a legislator who disagrees with a Chevron-backed agency action is to campaign on the disagreement – that is, to politicize it. If the EPA interprets the Clean Air Act too broadly, we need to retake the White House to get a new administrator in there to straighten out the EPA’s interpretation of the law. If the FCC interprets the Communications Act too narrowly, we need to retake the White House to change the chair so that we can straighten out that mess! And on the other side, we need to keep the White House so that we can protect these right-thinking agency interpretations from reversal by the loons on the other side that want to throw out all of our accomplishments. The campaign slogans write themselves.

So long as most agencies’ governing statutes are broad enough that those agencies can keep the ship of state afloat, even if drifting rudderless, legislators have little incentive to turn inward to engage in the business of government with their legislative peers. Rather, they are freed to turn outward towards their next campaign, vilifying or deifying the administrative decisions of the current government as best suits their electoral prospects.

The sharp-eyed observer will note that I’ve added a piece to the Chevron puzzle: the process described above assumes that a new administration can come in after an election and simply rewrite all of the rules adopted by the previous administration. Not to put too fine a point on the matter, but this is exactly what administrative law allows (see Fox v. FCC and State Farm). The underlying logic, which is really nothing more than an expansion of Chevron, is that statutory ambiguity delegates to agencies a “policy space” within which they are free to operate. So long as agency action stays within that space – which often allows for diametrically-opposed substantive interpretations – the courts say that it is up to Congress, not the Judiciary, to provide course corrections. Anything else would amount to politically unaccountable judges substituting their policy judgments (this is, acting independently) for those of politically-accountable legislators and administrators.

In other words, the politicization of law seen in our current political moment is largely a function of deference and a lack of stare decisis combined. A virtue of stare decisis is that it forces Congress to act to directly address politically undesirable opinions. Because agencies are not bound by stare decisis, an alternative, and politically preferable, way for Congress to remedy problematic agency decisions is to politicize the issue – instead of addressing the substantive policy issue through legislation, individual members of Congress can campaign on it. (Regular readers of this blog will be familiar with one contemporary example of this: the recent net neutrality CRA vote, which is widely recognized as having very little chance of ultimate success but is being championed by its proponents as a way to influence the 2018 elections.) This is more directly aligned with the individual member of Congress’s own incentives, because, by keeping and placing more members of her party in Congress, her party will be able to control the leadership of the agency which will thus control the shape of that agency’s policy. In other words, instead of channeling the attention of individual Congressional actors inwards to work together to develop law and policy, it channels it outwards towards campaigning on the ills and evils of the opposing administration and party vice the virtues of their own party.

The virtue of judicial independence, of judges saying what they think the law is – or even what they think the law should be – is that it forces a politically-accountable decision. Congress can either agree, or disagree; but Congress must do something. Merely waiting for the next administration to come along will not be sufficient to alter the course set by the judicial interpretation of the law. Where Congress has abdicated its responsibility to make politically-accountable decisions by deferring those decisions to the executive or agencies, the political-accountability justification for Chevron deference fails. In such cases, the better course for the courts may well be to enforce Congress’s role under the separation of powers by refusing deference and returning the question to Congress.

 

On December 11 I published a Heritage Foundation Legal Memorandum on this topic. I concluded that the federal courts have done a fairly good job in harmonizing antitrust with constitutionally-based federalism and First Amendment interests (petitioning, free speech, and religious freedom). Nevertheless, it must be admitted that these “constitutional constraints” somewhat limit the ability of antitrust to promote a procompetitive, pro-efficiency, pro-innovation, pro-consumer welfare agenda. Anticompetitive government action – the most pernicious and long-lasting affront to competition, because it is backed by the coercive power of the state – presents a particularly serious and widespread problem. How can antitrust and other legal principles be applied to further promote economic freedom and combat anticompetitive government action, in a manner consistent with the Constitution?

First, it may be possible to further tweak antitrust to apply a bit more broadly to governmental conduct, without upsetting the constitutional balance.

For instance, in 2013, in Phoebe Putney, the United States Supreme Court commendably held that general grants of corporate powers (such as the power to enter into contracts) to sub-state governmental entities are not in themselves “clear articulations” of a state policy to displace competition. Thus, in that case, a special purpose hospital authority granted general corporate powers by the State of Georgia could not evade federal antitrust scrutiny when it orchestrated a potentially anticompetitive hospital merger. In short, by requiring states to be specific when they authorize regulators to displace competition, Phoebe Putney makes it a bit more difficult to achieve anticompetitive results through routine state governmental processes.

But what about when a subsidiary state entity has been empowered to displace competition? Imposing a greater requirement on states to actively supervise decisions by self-interested state regulatory boards could enhance competition without severely undermining state prerogatives. Specifically, where members of a profession dominate a state-created board that oversees the profession, the risk of self-dealing and consumer harm is particularly high, and therefore the board’s actions should be subject to exacting scrutiny. In its imminent ruling on the Federal Trade Commission’s (FTC) challenge to anticompetitive rules by the dentist-dominated North Carolina Dental Board of Dental Examiners (rules which forestall competition by storefront teeth whitening services), the Supreme Court will have the opportunity to require that states actively supervise the decisions of self-interested regulators as a prerequisite to federal antitrust immunity. At the very least, such a requirement would make states be more cautious before giving a blank check to potentially anticompetitive industry self-regulation. It could also raise the costs of obtaining special government favor, and shed needed light on rent-seekers’ efforts to achieve regulatory capture.

Unfortunately, though, a great deal of anticompetitive governmental activity, both state and federal, is and will remain beyond the bounds of federal antitrust prosecution. What can be done to curb such excesses, given the practical political difficulties in achieving far-reaching pro-competitive legislative and regulatory reforms? My December 11 Heritage Memo highlights a few possibilities rooted in constitutional economic liberties (see also the recent Heritage Foundation special report on economic liberty and the Constitution). One involves putting greater teeth into constitutional equal protection and due process analysis – say, by holding that pure protectionism standing alone does not pass muster as a “rational basis” justification for a facially anticompetitive law. Another approach is to deploy takings law (highlighted in a current challenge to the U.S. Agriculture Department’s raisin cartel) and the negative commerce clause in appropriate circumstances. The utility of these approaches, however, is substantially limited by case law.

Finally, competition advocacy – featuring public statements by competition agencies that describe the anticompetitive effects and welfare harm stemming from specific government regulations or proposed laws – remains a potentially fruitful means for highlighting the costs of anticompetitive government action and building a case for reform. As I have previously explained, the FTC has an established track record of competition advocacy filings, and the International Competition Network is encouraging the utilization of competition advocacy around the world. By shedding light on the specific baleful effects of government actions that undermine normal competitive processes, competition advocacy may over time help build a political case for reform that transcends the inherent limitations of antitrust and constitutional litigation.

The U.S. Federal Trade Commission (FTC) continues to expand its presence in online data regulation.  On August 13 the FTC announced a forthcoming workshop to explore appropriate policies toward “big data,” a term used to refer to advancing technologies that are dramatically expanding the commercial collection, analysis, use, and storage of data.  This initiative follows on the heels of the FTC’s May 2014 data broker report, which recommended that Congress impose a variety of requirements on companies that legally collect and sell consumers’ personal information.  (Among other requirements, companies would be required to create consumer data “portals” and implement business procedures that allow consumers to edit and suppress use of their data.)  The FTC also is calling for legislation that would enhance its authority over data security standards and empower it to issue rules requiring companies to inform consumers of security breaches.

These recent regulatory initiatives are in addition to the Commission’s active consumer data enforcement efforts.  Some of these efforts are pursuant to three targeted statutory authorizations – the FTC’s Safeguards Rule (promulgated pursuant to the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act and directed at non-bank financial institutions), the Fair Credit Reporting Act (directed at consumer protecting agencies), and the Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act (directed at children’s information collected online).

The bulk of the FTC’s enforcement efforts, however, stem from its general authority to proscribe unfair or deceptive practices under Section 5(a)(1) of the FTC ActSince 2002, pursuant to its Section 5 powers, the FTC has filed and settled over 50 cases alleging that private companies used deceptive or ineffective (and thus unfair) practices in storing their data.  (Twitter, LexisNexis, ChoicePoint, GMR Transcription Services, GeneLink, Inc., and mobile device provider HTC are just a few of the firms that have agreed to settle.)  Settlements have involved consent decrees under which the company in question agreed to take a wide variety of “corrective measures” to avoid future harm.

As a matter of first principles, one may question the desirability of FTC data security investigations under Section 5.  Firms have every incentive to avoid data protection breaches that harm their customers, in order to avoid the harm to reputation and business values that stem from such lapses.  At the same time, firms must weigh the costs of alternative data protection systems in determining what the appropriate degree of protection should be.  Economic logic indicates that the optimal business policy is not one that focuses solely on implementing the strongest data protection system program without regard to cost.  Rather, the optimal policy is to invest in enhancing corporate data security up to the point where the marginal benefits of additional security equal the marginal costs, and no further.  Although individual businesses can only roughly approximate this outcome, one may expect that market forces will tend toward the optimal result, as firms that underinvest in data security lose customers and firms that overinvest in security find themselves priced out of the market.  There is no obvious “market failure” that suggests the market should not work adequately in the data security area.  Indeed, there is a large (and growing) amount of information on security systems available to business, and a thriving labor market for IT security specialists to whom companies can turn in designing their security programs.   Nevertheless, it would be naive in the extreme to believe that the FTC will choose to abandon its efforts to apply Section 5 to this area.  With that in mind, let us examine more closely the problems with existing FTC Section 5 data security settlements, with an eye to determining what improvements the Commission might beneficially make if it is so inclined.

The HTC settlement illustrates the breadth of decree-specific obligations the FTC has imposed.  HTC was required to “establish a comprehensive security program, undergo independent security assessments for 20 years, and develop and release software patches to fix security vulnerabilities.”  HTC also agreed to detailed security protocols that would be monitored by a third party.  The FTC did not cite specific harmful security breaches to justify these sanctions; HTC was merely charged with a failure to “take reasonable steps” to secure smartphone software.  Nor did the FTC explain what specific steps short of the decree requirements would have been deemed “reasonable.”

The HTC settlement exemplifies the FTC’s “security by design” approach to data security, under which the agency informs firms after the fact what they should have done, without exploring what they might have done to pass muster.  Although some academics view the FTC settlements as contributing usefully to a developing “common law” of data privacy, supporters of this approach ignore its inherent ex ante vagueness and the costs decree-specific mandates impose on companies.

Another serious problem stems from the enormous investigative and litigation costs associated with challenging an FTC complaint in this area – costs that incentivize most firms to quickly accede to consent decree terms even if they are onerous.  The sad case of LabMD, a small cancer detection lab, serves as warning to businesses that choose to engage in long-term administrative litigation against the FTC.  Due to the cost burden of the FTC’s multi-year litigation against it (which is still ongoing as of this writing), LabMD was forced to wind down its operations, and it stopped accepting new patients in January 2014.

The LabMD case suggests that FTC data security initiatives, carried out without regard to the scale or resources of the affected companies, have the potential to harm competition.  Relatively large companies are much better able to absorb FTC litigation and investigation costs.  Thus, it may be in the large firms’ interests to encourage the FTC to support intrusive and burdensome new FTC data security initiatives, as part of a “raising rivals’ costs” strategy to cripple or eliminate smaller rivals.  As a competition and consumer welfare watchdog, the FTC should keep this risk in mind when weighing the merits of expanding data security regulations or launching new data security investigations.

A common thread runs through the FTC’s myriad activities in data privacy “space” – the FTC’s failure to address whether its actions are cost-beneficial.  There is little doubt that the FTC’s enforcement actions impose substantial costs, both on businesses subject to decree and investigation, and on other firms possessing data that must contemplate business system redesigns to forestall potential future liability.  As a result, business innovation suffers.  Furthermore, those costs are passed on at least in part to consumers, in the form of higher prices and a reduction in the quality and quantity of new products and services.  The FTC should, consistent with its consumer welfare mandate, carefully weigh these costs against the presumed benefits flowing from a reduction in future data breaches.  A failure to carry out a cost-benefit appraisal, even a rudimentary one, makes it impossible to determine whether the FTC’s much touted data privacy projects are enhancing or reducing consumer welfare.

FTC Commissioner Josh Wright recently gave voice to the importance of cost benefit analysis in commenting on the FTC’s data brokerage report – a comment that applies equally well to all of the FTC’s data protection and privacy initiatives:

“I would . . . like to see evidence of the incidence and scope of consumer harms rather than just speculative hypotheticals about how consumers might be harmed before regulation aimed at reducing those harms is implemented.  Accordingly, the FTC would need to quantify more definitively the incidence or value of data broker practices to consumers before taking or endorsing regulatory or legislative action. . . .  We have no idea what the costs for businesses would be to implement consumer control over any and all data shared by data brokers and to what extent these costs would ultimately be passed on to consumers.  Once again, a critical safeguard to insure against the risk that our recommendations and actions do more harm than good for consumers is to require appropriate and thorough cost-benefit analysis before acting.  This failure could be especially important where the costs to businesses from complying with any recommendations are high, but where the ultimate benefit generated for consumers is minimal. . . .  If consumers have minimal concerns about the sharing of certain types of information – perhaps information that is already publicly available – I think we should know that before requiring data brokers to alter their practices and expend resources and incur costs that will be passed on to consumers.”

The FTC could take several actions to improve its data enforcement policies.  First and foremost, it could issue Data Security Guidelines that (1) clarify the FTC’s enforcement actions regarding data security will be rooted in cost-benefit analysis, and (2) will take into account investigative costs as well as (3) reasonable industry self-regulatory efforts.  (Such Guidelines should be framed solely as limiting principles that tie the FTC’s hands to avoid enforcement excesses.  They should studiously avoid dictating to industry the data security principles that firms should adopt.)  Second, it could establish an FTC website portal that features continuously updated information on the Guidelines and other sources of guidance on data security. Third, it could employ cost-benefit analysis before pursuing any new regulatory initiatives, legislative recommendations, or investigations related to other areas of data protection.  Fourth, it could urge its foreign counterpart agencies to adopt similar cost-benefit approaches to data security regulation.

Congress could also improve the situation by enacting a narrowly tailored statute that preempts all state regulation related to data protection.  Forty-seven states now have legislation in this area, which adds additional burdens to those already imposed by federal law.  Furthermore, differences among state laws render the data protection efforts of merchants who may have to safeguard data from across the country enormously complex and onerous.  Given the inherently interstate nature of electronic commerce and associated data breaches, preemption of state regulation in this area would comport with federalism principles.  (Consistent with public choice realities, there is always the risk, of course, that Congress might be tempted to go beyond narrow preemption and create new and unnecessary federal powers in this area.  I believe, however, that such a risk is worth running, given the potential magnitude of excessive regulatory burdens, and the ability to articulate a persuasive public policy case for narrow preemptive legislation.)

Stay tuned for a more fulsome discussion of these issues by me.

Government impediments to the efficient provision of health care services in the United States are legion.  While much recent attention has focused on the federal Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act, which by design reduces consumer choice and competition, harmful state law restrictions have long been spotlighted by the U.S. Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ).  For example, research demonstrates that state “certificate of need” (CON) laws, which require prior state regulatory approval of new hospitals and hospital expansions, “create barriers to entry and expansion to the detriment of health care competition and consumers.

Less attention, however, has been focused on relatively new yet insidious state anticompetitive restrictions that have been adopted by three states (North Carolina, South Carolina, and New York), and are being considered by other jurisdictions as well – “certificates of public advantage” (COPAs).  COPAs are state laws that grant federal and state antitrust law immunity to health care providers that enter into approved “cooperative arrangements” that it is claimed will benefit state health care quality.  Like CONs, however, COPAs are likely to undermine, rather than promote, efficient and high quality health care delivery, according to the FTC.

As the FTC has pointed out, federal antitrust law already permits joint activity by health care providers that benefits consumers and is reasonably necessary to create efficiencies.  A framework for assessing such activity is found in joint FTC and DOJ Statements of Antitrust Enforcement in Health Care, supplemented by subsequent agency guidance documents.  Moreover, no antitrust exemption is needed to promote efficient cooperative arrangements, because the antitrust laws already allow procompetitive collaborations among competitors.

While COPA laws are not needed to achieve socially desirable ends, they create strong incentives for unnecessary competitive restrictions among rival health care providers, which spawn serious consumer harm.  As the bipartisan Antitrust Modernization Commission observed, “[t]ypically, antitrust exemptions create economic benefits that flow to small, concentrated interest groups, while the costs of the exemption are widely dispersed, usually passed on to a large population of consumers through higher prices, reduced output, lower quality and reduced innovation.”  In short, one may expect that well-organized rent-seekers generally will be behind industry-specific antitrust exemptions.  This is no less true in health care than in other sectors of the economy.

Legislators should not assume that competitive problems created by COPAs can be cured by active supervision carried out by state officials.  Such supervision is difficult, costly, and prone to error, particularly because the supervised entities will have every incentive to mischaracterize their self-serving actions as welfare-enhancing rather than welfare-reducing.  In effect, state supervision absent antitrust sanction may devolve into a form of ad hoc economic regulation, subject to all the imperfections of regulation, including regulatory capture by special interests.

A real world example of the difficulties in regulating COPA arrangements is outlined in a 2011 state-commissioned economic analysis (2011 Study) of the 1995 COPA agreement (NC-COPA) between the State of North Carolina and Mission Health Systems (MHS).  In 1993 the State of North Carolina enacted a COPA statute, which grants federal and state antitrust immunity to parties that submit their cooperative agreements to active supervision by the State of North Carolina.  In 1995, to forestall a DOJ antitrust investigation into the merger of the only two acute-care hospitals in Asheville, North Carolina, MHS, the parent of the acquiring hospital, sought and was granted a COPA by the State.  (This COPA agreement was the first in North Carolina and the first in the nation.)  MHS subsequently expanded into additional health care ventures in western North Carolina, subject to state regulatory supervision specified in NC-COPA and thus free from antitrust scrutiny.  The 2011 Study identified a number of potentially harmful consequences flowing from this regulatory scheme:  (1) by regulating MHS’s average margin across all services and geographic areas, NC-COPA creates an incentive for MHS to expand into lower-margin markets to raise price in core markets without violating margin cap limitations; (2) NC-COPA’s cost cap offers only limited regulatory protection for consumers and creates undesirable incentives for MHS to increase outpatient prices and volumes; and (3) NC-COPA creates an incentive and opportunity for MHS to evade price or margin regulation in one market by instead imposing price increases in a related, but unregulated, market.  Moreover, the 2011 Study concluded that the NC-COPA was unnecessary to address competitive concerns attributable to the 1995 merger.  The State of North Carolina has not yet responded to recommendations in the Study for amending the NC-COPA to address these ills.  What the Study illustrates is that even assuming the best of intentions by regulators, COPAs raise serious problems of implementation and are likely to have deleterious unanticipated effects.  State governments would be well advised to heed the advice of federal (and state) antitrust enforcers and avoid the temptation to substitute regulation for competitive market forces subject to general antitrust law.

In sum, state legislatures should resist the premise that health care competitors will somehow advance the “public interest” if they are freed from antitrust scrutiny and subjected to COPA regulation.  Efficient joint activity can proceed without such special favor, whose natural effect is to incentivize welfare-reducing anticompetitive conduct – conduct which undermines, rather than promotes, health care quality and the general welfare.

My former student and recent George Mason Law graduate (and co-author, here) Angela Diveley has posted Clarifying State Action Immunity Under the Antitrust Laws: FTC v. Phoebe Putney Health System, Inc.  It is a look at the state action doctrine and the Supreme Court’s next chance to grapple with it in Phoebe Putney.  here is the abstract:

The tension between federalism and national competition policy has come to a head. The state action doctrine finds its basis in principles of federalism, permitting states to replace free competition with alternative regulatory regimes they believe better serve the public interest. Public restraints have a unique ability to undermine the regime of free competition that provides the basis of U.S.- and state-commerce policies. Nevertheless, preservation of federalism remains an important rationale for protecting such restraints. The doctrine has elusive contours, however, which have given rise to circuit splits and overbroad application that threatens to subvert the state action doctrine’s dual goals of federalism and competition. The recent Eleventh Circuit decision in FTC v. Phoebe Putney Health System, Inc. epitomizes the concerns associated with misapplication of state action immunity. The U.S. Supreme Court recently granted the FTC’s petition for certiorari and now has the opportunity to more clearly define the contours of the doctrine. In Phoebe Putney, the FTC has challenged a merger it claims is the product of a sham transaction, an allegation certain to test the boundaries of the state action doctrine and implicate the interpretation of a two-pronged test designed to determine whether consumer welfare-reducing conduct taken pursuant to purported state authorization is immune from antitrust challenge. The FTC’s petition for writ of certiorari raises two issues for review. First, it presents the question concerning the appropriate interpretation of foreseeability of anticompetitive conduct. Second, the FTC presents the question whether a passive supervisory role on the state’s part can be construed as state action or whether its approval of the merger was a sham. In this paper, I seek to explicate the areas in which the state action doctrine needs clarification and to predict how the Court will decide the case in light of precedent and the principles underlying the doctrine.

Go read the whole thing.

States can be a wonderful laboratory and platform for jurisdictional competition.  But sometimes the laboratory seems to belong to Dr. Frankenstein and then federal law must step in to bring order.

Biff Campbell thinks Reg D has failed its intended purpose and the reason is state law.  Here’s part of the abstract:

Regulation D * * * offers businesses — especially businesses with relatively small capital requirements — fair and efficient access to vital, external capital.  * * * The data show that Regulation D is not working in the way the Commission intended or in a way that benefits society. The data reveal that companies attempting to raise relatively small amounts of capital under Regulation D overwhelmingly forego the low transaction costs of offerings under Rule 504 and Rule 505 in favor of meeting the more onerous (and more expensive) requirements of Rule 506. Additionally, these companies overwhelmingly limit their relatively small offerings to accredited investors, which dramatically reduces the pool of potential investors. This unintended and bad outcome is the result of the burdens imposed by state blue sky laws and regulations, and this has to a large degree wrecked the sensible and balanced approach of the Commission in Regulation D.  Congress. . . could solve the problem by expanding federal preemption to cover all offerings made under Regulation D.

He has a point.  Permitting the states to regulate national securities transactions enables individual states to impose regulatory costs outside their borders for the benefit of local interest groups.  This can have perverse effects — in this case, by letting individual states impede national capital formation and entrepreneurship .Indeed, a key economic rationale for federal law is to address this problem.  See Easterbrook & Fischel, Mandatory Disclosure for the Protection of Investors, 70 Virginia Law Review 669 (1984).  

But we don’t have to eliminate state securities laws, along with state law’s potential advantages of competition and experimentation, to deal with this problem.  There’s an alternative:  apply state law only to intrastate transactions, or to corporations that have contracted for the securities law of a particular state (e.g., by incorporating in the state).  In other words, apply the same choice-of-law rule to state securities law as to state corporate governance law.  I discuss this approach in Dabit, Preemption and Choice of Law and Preemption and Choice-of-Law Coordination (with O’Connor).

Alison Frankel gripes about a NJ judge’s ruling throwing out a shareholders’ derivative suit seeking to hold the J & J board accountable for problems concerning the company’s Rispardal drug. Frankel thinks the bad faith standard the court applied is not high enough.

Ted Frank responds that the fact that the company had settled criminal allegations doesn’t mean the board was irresponsible given big companies’ exposure to prosecutorial overreaching (here’s my thoughts on the problems with prosecutors).  He notes that given huge potential penalties and legal costs “even a risk-neutral set of executives would refuse to go to trial on criminal charges that they had a 95% chance of winning.”  As Ted says:

The issue is this: first, any corporate law is going to have to balance false negatives (valid suits against directors being thrown out prematurely) and false positives (invalid suits against directors costing tens of millions of dollars in time and money to resolve). Any opening up of the courtroom doors to challenge directors will reduce false negatives at the expense of more false positives; any increase in the burden to bring suit will reduce false positives at the expense of more false negatives.

Anyway, Ted continues, shareholders of NJ corporations can decide to invest in firms incorporated elsewhere if they think NJ law is too lenient on directors, aptly citing my and O’Hara’s The Law Market.

Of course Frankel might argue that the business judgment rule that the court used to decide the case is ubiquitous, leaving plaintiffs with little choice. Indeed, the only significant dissent is Nevada which is, if anything, even easier on directors than NJ.   Frankel might also argue that this indicates state corporation law is rigged for managers and that we would do better under federal law.  Perhaps what we need is a super Dodd-Frank/SOX on steroids that preempts state law and exposes managers to suits like the one NJ dismissed.

I would respond that the universal acceptance of the business judgment rule represents the market’s rejection of Frankel’s position.  If Frankel wants to complain that the market for corporate law is imperfect,  she would need to persuade me that shareholders are better off in the clutches of Congress.

The Airgas decision

Larry Ribstein —  16 February 2011

So Chancellor Chandler, in deciding Airgas, preserved the board’s power to decide when to sell the company.  If a company’s shareholders don’t like it, they need to replace the board.  If shareholders generally don’t like it they need to change the Delaware statute.

In upholding the board’s power, and confirming what most astute observers knew the law likely was, despite very strong facts the other way (no “coercion” or other obvious reason why the pill was needed), the court preserved the stability of Delaware law. Hard facts don’t have to make bad law.  Although the Air Products bid was $70, the shares had been trading around $63.  They fell from $63.73 to $61 after the decision, suggesting clarification of a small residual amount of uncertainty.

The decision illustrates one reason why Subramanian, et al, were wrong to suggest the Delaware anti-takeover statute is preempted by the Williams Act.  If the statute, why not the pill — and other aspects of Delaware law that block takeovers?  Here’s my response along these lines to the Subramanian et al argument.

Of course Congress theoretically could pass a law that explicitly preempts poison pills.  Dodd-Frank’s intrusion into corporate governance makes this plausible.  But such additional federal interference would not be wise.

As I discussed a couple of days ago in my post about the SEC’s moves toward imposing fiduciary duties on brokers, I have a new paper on how Congress and the courts messed up fiduciary duties in another context: Federal Misgovernance of Mutual Funds. The paper is about a Supreme Court case decided last term. The Court’s opinion followed a notable disagreement in the Seventh Circuit between Judge Easterbrook, who would basically trust adviser compensation to the robust mutual fund market, and Judge Posner, who had doubts about how well that market functions. Here’s the abstract:

In Jones v. Harris Associates, the Supreme Court interpreted investment advisers’ fiduciary duty regarding compensation for services under Section 36(b) of the Investment Company Act of 1940. The Court endorsed an open-ended Second Circuit standard over a more determinate Seventh Circuit test calling only for full disclosure and no “tricks.”  This paper shows that Congress created and must solve the fundamental problem the Court faced in Jones. At one level the problem stems from the existence of an investment adviser fiduciary duty as to compensation and the corporate structure from which it springs. At a deeper level lies the more basic problem of federal interference in firm governance, which lacks state corporate law’s safety valve of interstate competition and experimentation.  This discussion is appropriate in light of the increasing federal role evident in the enactment of broad new financial regulation.

Here’s an earlier pre-decision post laying out some of the issues, which I concluded by noting:

I suspect that in this day and age the Supreme Court will side with Posner. Such a decision would be a symptom and signal of our sharp turn toward paternalism in everything from complex finance to corporate governance to the simplest products.

Although the Court’s result was consistent with Posner’s position, as noted here it left the deeper issues to Congress. These include questions not only about markets, but also about the appropriate federal role in structuring investment vehicles. My article suggests that, whatever the flaws in markets and state regulation, federal regulation may be worse.

The Comprehensive Alcohol Regulatory Effectiveness Act — yes, the “CARE Act” — or HR 5034, is a piece of legislation aimed at supporting “State-based alcohol regulation.”  Recall the Supreme Court’s decision in Granholm v. Heald, which held that states could either allow in-state and out-of-state retailers to directly ship wine to consumers or could prohibit it for both, but couldn’t ban direct shipment only for out-of-state sellers while allowing in for in-state sellers.  Most states thus far have opened up direct shipping laws to the benefit of consumers.    While we occasionally criticize the Federal Trade Commission from time to time here at TOTM, its own research demonstrating that state regulation banning direct shipment and e-commerce harmed consumers is an excellent example of the potential for competition research and development impacting regulatory debates.  Indeed, Justice Kennedy’s majority opinion in Granholm cites the FTC study (not to mention co-blogger Mike Sykuta’s work here) a number of times.  But in addition to direct shipment laws, there are a whole host of state laws regulating the sale and distribution of alcohol.  Some of them have obviously pernicious competitive consequences for consumers as well as producers.  The beneficiaries are the wholesalers who have successfully lobbied for the protection of the state.  Fundamentally, the CARE Act aims to place these laws beyond the reach of any challenge under the Commerce Clause as per Granholm, the Sherman Act, or any other federal legislation.  Whether the CARE Act has any ancillary social benefits is an important empirical question — but you can bet that the first-order effect of the law, if it were to go into effect, would be to increase beer, wine and liquor prices.  More on the CARE Act and state regulation of alcoholic beverages below the fold.

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