SEC Increases the Number of Companies Eligible for Reduced Disclosure

The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) has increased the number of companies eligible for reduced disclosure by amending its definition of “Smaller Reporting Company.” Certain of the SEC’s disclosure requirements are reduced or eliminated for Smaller Reporting Companies.

Higher Thresholds

Under the amended definition, a company will now be a Smaller Reporting Company if it has a public float of less than $250 million instead of the current $75 million. In addition, a company with a public float of less than $700 million can now also be a Smaller Reporting Company if it has annual revenues of less than $100 million. The SEC staff estimates that the amendments will initially result in an additional 966 companies becoming Smaller Reporting Companies. The amended definition will be effective September 10, 2018.

Accelerated Filer Status

The amendments did not change the current $75 million threshold for “accelerated filer” status. As a result, a Smaller Reporting Company under the new guidelines may remain an accelerated filer based on its public float. Companies with a public float of more than $75 million will continue to be subject to the following requirements applicable to an accelerated filer, among others:

  • Meeting accelerated filing deadlines for the periodic reports under the Securities Exchange Act of 1934 (Exchange Act).
  • Providing an auditor’s attestation report on management’s assessment of internal control over financial reporting required by Section 404(b) of the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002.
  • Disclosing in its Form 10-K annual report unresolved staff comments on periodic or current reports.  

However, SEC Chairman Clayton directed the SEC staff to formulate recommendations for possible changes to the accelerated filer definition to also reduce the number of companies that are accelerated filers.

Calculation of Public Float

The amendments do not change the calculation of a company’s public float or the date as of which it is calculated. A company’s public float continues to be the aggregate worldwide number of shares of voting and non-voting common equity held by non-affiliates multiplied by the price at which the common equity was last sold, or the average of the bid and asked prices of the common equity, in the principal market for the common equity. An Exchange Act reporting company continues to measure its public float as of the last business day of its most recently completed second fiscal quarter to determine whether it is a Smaller Reporting Company.

Subsequent Qualification as a Smaller Reporting Company

The amendments also changed the thresholds for when a company will subsequently become a Smaller Company – if it is not currently one – because it exceeds the applicable thresholds. A company that had a public float of more than $250 million will subsequently become a Smaller Reporting Company if its public float is less than $200 million. A company that had a public float of $700 million or more and annual revenues of $100 million or more will subsequently become a Smaller Reporting Company if it has both a public float of less than $560 million and annual revenues of less than $80 million. If a company had annual revenues of less than $100 million, but did not qualify as a Smaller Reporting Company because it had a public float of $700 million or more, it will become a Smaller Reporting Company if its annual revenues remain less than $100 million and its public float is less than $560 million. If a company had a public float of less than $700 million but did not qualify as a Smaller Reporting Company because it had annual revenues of $100 million or more, it will become a Smaller Reporting Company if its public float remains less than $700 million and its annual revenues are less than $80 million.  

Reduced Disclosure

A company that qualifies as a Smaller Reporting Company can elect, but is not obligated, to reduce or eliminate some disclosures in its Form 10-K Annual Reports, Form 10-Q Quarterly Reports, proxy statements, and registration statements. The following is the SEC’s summary of the scaled-back disclosure that a Smaller Reporting Company may elect.

Regulation S-K
Item
Scaled Disclosure Accommodation

101 – Description of Business

May satisfy disclosure obligations by describing the development of the registrant’s business during the last three years rather than five years.

Business development description requirements less detailed.

102- Market Price of and Dividends on the Registrant’s Common Equity and Related Stockholder Matters

 Stock performance graph not required

301 – Selected Financial Data

Not required.

302 – Supplementary Financial Information

Not required.

303 – Management’s Discussion and Analysis of Financial Condition and Results of Operations (MD&A)

Two-year MD&A comparison rather than three-year comparison.

Two year discussion of impact of inflation and changes in prices rather than three years.

Tabular disclosure of contractual obligations not required.

305 – Quantitative and Qualitative Disclosures About Market Risk

Not required.

402 – Executive Compensation

Three named executive officers rather than five.

Two years of summary compensation table information rather than three. Not required:

  • Compensation discussion and analysis.
  • Grants of plan-based awards table.
  • Option exercises and stock vested table.
  • Pension benefits table.
  • Nonqualified deferred compensation table.
  • Disclosure of compensation policies and practices related to risk management.
  • Pay ratio disclosure.

404 – Transactions With Related Persons, Promoters and Certain Control Persons

Description of policies/procedures for the review, approval or ratification of related party transactions not required.

407 – Corporate Governance

Audit committee financial expert disclosure not required in first annual report

Compensation committee interlocks and insider participation disclosure not required.

Compensation committee report not required.

503 – Prospectus Summary, Risk Factors and Ratio of Earnings to Fixed Charges

No ratio of earnings to fixed charges disclosure required. No risk factors required in Exchange Act filings.

601 – Exhibits

Statements regarding computation of ratios not required.

 

Regulation S-X
Rule
Scaled Disclosure

8-02 – Annual Financial Statements

Two years of income statements rather than three years. Two years of cash flow statements rather than three years.

Two years of changes in stockholders’ equity statements rather than three years.

8-03 – Interim Financial Statements

Permits certain historical financial data in lieu of separate historical financial statements of equity investees.

8-04 – Financial Statements of Businesses Acquired or to Be Acquired

Maximum of two years of acquiree financial statements rather than three years.

8-05 – Pro forma Financial Information

Fewer circumstances under which pro forma financial statements are required.

8-06 – Real Estate Operations Acquired or to Be Acquired

Maximum of two years of financial statements for acquisition of properties from related parties rather than three years.

8-08 – Age of Financial Statements

Less stringent age of financial statements requirements.

Takeaway

Companies that will now qualify as a Smaller Reporting Company under the amended definition should consider whether to use the reduced level of disclosure that will become available to them. For a company that has a fiscal year ending December 31st: if it does not exceed the thresholds as of June 29, 2018, it will qualify as a Smaller Reporting Company for the fiscal year ending December 31, 2018.

Representing Minority Members of an LLC in Negotiating an LLC Agreement

For purposes of this article, a minority member is a member who does not have voting control or the power to exercise voting control over the limited liability company that the minority member is joining or has joined. This article identifies those provisions that may be important to a minority member and may be subject to negotiation.

Leverage

Even though a client is a minority member, the client may still have significant leverage to negotiate the terms of the limited liability company agreement (the operating agreement). For example, a real estate developer who has control over an opportunity to acquire or develop a property but needs a money partner controls the opportunity and can (hopefully) pick the money partner. Although the money partner may have voting control, the minority partner may retain control over day-to-day operations, and the minority partner may also retain the ability to find funding from another source. Similarly, an owner of a business who is selling control, but is retaining a minority ownership share, controls the opportunity and may be able to find a buyer offering friendly terms in the operating agreement. In addition, minority owners who have little leverage by themselves may be able to team up with other minority owners and gain leverage through their teamwork. However, in a situation where the client is an investor who simply is providing funding and the organizers can find replacement investors, the client is likely to have little negotiating leverage.

Purpose Clause

The purpose clause is a statement of the scope of the LLC’s authority to conduct business; management may not cause the LLC to enter into agreements or conduct business outside the scope of this purpose. From the standpoint of the minority investor, a purpose clause permitting “any business” or “any purpose,” or a clause permitting broad types of activity, may allow a manager or majority members to engage, without the approval of the other members, in businesses that were not contemplated at the venture’s outset.

The ability of a minority member to negotiate a limited purpose often depends on the type of LLC and custom within the industry. The purpose of an LLC organized for investment purposes is often broad, and a minority investor may not be able to negotiate any limitations. If the LLC is investing in a single piece of real estate, mortgage lenders frequently require that the purpose of the LLC may be limited to dealing with the particular real estate.

However, if the LLC is organized to undertake a particular type of business, such as a law or dental practice, a plumbing business, or operation of a dealership or other specific business, a minority member should expect and require that the purpose clause be limited to the intended business and related activities, and a minority investor would want the LLC’s purpose clause to reflect a limited scope of authority.[1]

Additional Capital Contributions

An LLC that needs additional capital may attempt to seek that capital through capital calls. If the minority member is an investor, notice and the opportunity to elect to invest additional funds may be all that the minority member is willing to commit. Minority members in businesses formed for a particular venture may be obligated to commit additional capital in the future, but may negotiate a cap on their future contribution obligations. If a minority member cannot control the making of a capital call or obtain a cap, the minority member may be able to require that there be a demonstrated “need” for additional funds, or to include a provision that requires management to attempt to borrow funds to meet the need before a call is made.

Failure to Fund a Capital Call

A minority member’s failure to fund a capital call may drastically affect the minority member’s interest. Operating agreements that provide for dilution of the defaulting member’s interest as a remedy (a reduction in the defaulting member’s interest in the LLC) often base dilution on relative capital accounts or contributed capital. If the value of the venture has appreciated, dilution on either basis will not take into account the defaulting member’s share in the “equity” of the venture.

A common alternative for the minority member to consider is a provision that permits other members to elect to fund the defaulting member’s capital call and to make a “deemed loan” to the defaulting member, repayable from future distributions. Unless these “deemed loans” are convertible into equity at the option of the funding member, provisions of this type should not result in dilution. However, if future distributions are not sufficient to repay the “deemed loan,” the defaulting member may wind up with personal liability for the unpaid contribution. Other possible penalties for a defaulting member include loss of voting rights or the triggering of a buyout (generally at an unfavorable price).

Distributions

From a minority member’s standpoint, an operating agreement that mandates quarterly distributions of all or a specified percentage of cash flow (after objectively determined reserves) best protects the minority member. However, in many cases, a minority member will not be able to negotiate for mandatory distributions. Moreover, even if distributions are mandatory, if the manager or managing member has the discretionary power to determine the amount of reserves, the manager or managing member might conservatively establish reserves and thus keep distributions artificially low.

Minority members (of LLCs with taxable income) also should seek assurance in the operating agreement that mandatory tax distributions (an amount sufficient to pay income taxes, assuming maximum marginal tax rates are applicable, on income allocated to members) are made quarterly so that members will be able to make estimated payments. If the members of the LLC work for the LLC (for example, lawyers, dentists, or plumbers) and are the drivers of the LLC’s business on a full-time basis, those members will expect to receive regular distributions. “Guaranteed payments” may be negotiated for service members, which may be in a fixed amount or may be determined by a formula or by agreement. A service member may be required to treat regular payments as a draw against projected cash-flow distributions. However, minority members who provide services typically would not want to lose the right to receive past payments even if cash flow does not meet projections.

Voting and Control

By definition, a minority member does not have voting control. However, any minority member should have the right to consent to amendments to the operating agreement that, among other things, disproportionally affect the minority member’s limited liability, economic interest, or voting interest. In that regard, the minority member’s share of income and loss and other fundamental rights should be protected. If the LLC is formed to operate a specific business, and the LLC’s purpose clause is limited (or if each member’s consent is not required to amend the purpose clause), a minority member may have a veto over the LLC’s entrance into a different line of business.

Minority members may seek the right to require a certain level of consent in order for “major decisions” to be made, and if the venture has more than one minority member, that consent will frequently require only a majority of the minority members. Major decisions often include amendments to the operating agreement, sale of the business/mergers, etc., changes in long-term business plan/type of business conducted, dissolution, bankruptcy of the LLC, issuing equity beyond initial capital commitments (i.e., dilution), related party transactions/management compensation, initiation or settlement of major litigation, transfers of manager’s interest/management rights, material tax elections, borrowings in excess of a defined leverage limit, and removal/election of a manager of the LLC.

Although attractive at the outset, minority approval rights over more operational matters can be costly to the LLC, particularly if there are numerous minority members. For example, if entering into a significant lease is a major decision, delay in obtaining approval may result in the loss of the tenant. As a result, in most cases, minority members have few rights to consent to day-to-day operational matters. Service-provider members of an LLC engaged in a service business often have approval rights over more types of operational decisions, such as the annual budget or major personnel changes. Even so, only the manager or managing member is usually authorized to propose a “major decision.”

Prospective members should review a list of possible major decisions with a view toward understanding the effect on the LLC’s business if a major decision is delayed or not approved at all. The simplest resolution is that if there is no approval, then the LLC will maintain the status quo. Frequently, however, if a dispute persists, members may initiate a buy-sell process, which often favors a member who has the resources to execute a purchase. When representing a member who must find funding in order to be the buyer, the buy-sell process should be negotiated to provide for enough time before closing for the member to obtain and close on funding. If a member fails to close on the purchase, the quid pro quo may be that the member loses voting rights for future major decisions or loses other rights.

Duties of Control Persons

Under most state LLC statutes, the duties of those in control of an LLC are based on corporate principles and include a duty of loyalty and a duty to not compete with the LLC’s business. If the purpose of the LLC is reasonably limited to a particular business, the duty to not compete may prohibit any activity that competes with the LLC’s stated purpose. If the purpose of the LLC is not limited, in most cases courts will examine the actual business of the LLC to determine what types of activities unreasonably compete with the LLC’s business.

Many operating agreements include provisions that allow members and managers to undertake other activities, including competing activities, unless the members or managers are expected to work full-time for the LLC (such as lawyers, dentists, or plumbers). LLCs organized as investment vehicles should contain provisions that clearly define when a particular investment vehicle must be allocated to the LLC, and when the persons managing the LLC can invest in the opportunity themselves or allocate it to another vehicle. In addition to addressing the power of a manager or majority member to compete with the LLC, the operating agreement should resolve whether members may participate in related or competing activities. In most cases, a minority member who does not participate in management or provide services to the LLC should be permitted to compete.

In some states, such as Delaware, duties other than the implied contractual covenant of good faith and fair dealing may be waived. Even if the manager or majority members have waived their duties to the minority, the minority member should seek to obtain the right to consent to “interested transactions”—that is, transactions between the LLC and a controlling member of an affiliate after being provided all material information relating to the transaction. If the minority members do not have the right to approve interested transactions, the operating agreement should, at a minimum, specify that an “interested transaction” must be “entirely fair” to the LLC and its members.

Indemnification and Advancement

Control persons frequently include indemnification provisions in the operating agreement so that the LLC will indemnify the control person against claims (by members and the LLC) for actions taken on behalf of the LLC. An indemnification provision should mesh, and not conflict, with provisions dealing with fiduciary duties, meaning that a control person should not be entitled to indemnification for conduct that violates his or her duties to the LLC.

Advancement of expenses requires the LLC to pay the defense costs of a covered person before there has been a determination as to whether the person is entitled to be indemnified. Advancement is not an automatic right of a covered person and must be stated expressly in the operating agreement. Like indemnification provisions, advancement provisions should be carefully considered so that the scope of the provision is not broader than expected. Minority members should also be aware that a broad advancement provision may result in the LLC’s payment of defense costs for a person who truly has wronged the LLC, and that the wrongdoer may not be in a position to reimburse the LLC for defense costs when the matter is finally resolved against the wrongdoers.

To protect the minority member, exceptions to indemnification or advancement may be based on bad conduct (e.g., bad faith or fraud). In addition, advancement should generally not be available for proceedings brought by the covered person. Minority members may also want to ensure that capital calls cannot be made to fund advancement claims.

Inspection Rights

LLC statutes generally provide members with a relatively broad right to obtain information and access to records. This information typically includes a list of members, tax returns, the operating agreement, financial statements, and books and records, and may include the right to true and full information as to the status of the business and financial condition of the LLC. Limitations may be permitted under state statutes, and the organizers may want to impose reasonable restrictions standard on access to information or impose restrictions on the disclosure of information that may be used to compete with the LLC. Default statutory provisions typically are favorable to minority members.

Exit Rights

Minority members should also consider how they may exit from the LLC, given that most LLCs substantially limit or prohibit transfers of interests. If the member is a professional or other service provider who works for the LLC’s business, the concept of “exit” often is the person’s retirement. The retiring member typically would like to receive the member’s share of undistributed earnings and payment for the member’s share of the assets of the LLC. Often, however, a buyout will not include a payment for going concern value because the loss of the member in a service LLC will result in a loss of revenue and income that will only be replaced if the LLC is able to find another service provider who, in turn, will want to be paid for his or her services.

A more difficult problem arises when a member who used to be a productive contributor to the service LLC slows down and/or ceases to be productive for other reasons. If compensation is tied to effort, that member will see his or her compensation reduced. However, the members may want the operating agreement to address such a situation in other ways, such as the buyout of the nonproductive member.

The price to be paid for a withdrawing member’s interest can be specified in the operating agreement. If the member is a retired service provider, the price may be tied to the member’s capital account. If the price is based on “fair market value,” the price will typically include discounts for lack of control and lack of marketability, which can be substantial. If the price is based on “fair value,” the price would more likely be based on the value of the underlying assets or business of the LLC multiplied by the member’s percentage interest in the LLC. In the alternative, the operating agreement can provide for formulas to compute the fair value or fair market value, including specified discounts for lack of control or marketability (or elimination of such discounts). Disputes as to the establishment of the price can be resolved by means of the appointment of appraisers.

Transfers of Ownership Interests

If a minority member does not have the right to approve a transfer of a majority member’s membership interest, the minority member will want to attempt to negotiate a “tag-along” right, whereby the minority member may sell its interest on the same terms and conditions as the majority member. Similarly, a majority member, if the majority owner wishes to sell, may want the ability to “drag-along” minority members in a sale. Minority members should seek proportional consideration and should seek to avoid responsibility for breaches of the agreement of sale over which the minority member has no control. “Drag-along” provisions should be carefully reviewed to ensure that they cannot be used by the majority to avoid consent requirements.

If the LLC holds investment property, the interest may be transferable to heirs or trusts. Otherwise, operating agreements typically prohibit transfers or impose substantial restrictions on transfers.

Certain transfers may be unavoidable, such as those that occur as a result of death, divorce, or bankruptcy. The operating agreement may contain provisions for purchase or redemption rights if any of these events occurs (together with the issues relating to the determination of purchase price and timing of payment of the purchase price). Note, however, that compulsory redemption of the interest of a member who files bankruptcy may not be enforceable.

Amendments

Minority members should carefully review the amendment provisions in an operating agreement. Generally, amendments should not be permitted that would change the minority member’s economic rights or the “deal” without at least a majority of the minority’s consent.

[1] As discussed above, the minority member may also obtain consent rights that protect its interest.

Mergers, Acquisitions, and Conversions in the Context of Nonprofit Organizations

Although many focus on for-profit entities when thinking of corporate restructuring, tax-exempt nonprofit organizations also use mergers, acquisitions, and conversions in a variety of ways. Organizations exempt from tax under section 501(c) of the Internal Revenue Code (hereinafter, nonprofits) may want to merge, consolidate, or acquire the assets of another nonprofit or a for-profit organization.[1] Sometimes a nonprofit wants to relinquish its tax-exempt status and convert to a taxable organization, and existing for-profit entities occasionally want to convert to a nonprofit. These scenarios all present federal tax law considerations beyond those encountered when only for-profit entities are involved. Along with the advantages of tax-exempt status come restrictions, some of which determine who can benefit from an organization’s assets. Accordingly, in planning transactions, nonprofits should be aware of the risks of violating these restrictions.

These considerations are especially important now because, in many cases, the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) will not determine, except in an examination, whether a restructured nonprofit continues to qualify for exemption. IRS guidance released in February 2018 provides that already-exempt nonprofits no longer must submit a new application for recognition of tax-exempt status when engaging in certain corporate restructurings, such as mergers.[2] Therefore, nonprofits considering these types of changes should be careful to avoid such common problems as inurement, private benefit, and excess benefit transactions. This is particularly true if the nonprofit is a section 501(c)(3) organization. Should these issues arise in an examination, they could result in the revocation of the organization’s tax-exempt status (including retroactive revocation), the imposition of excise taxes, or both.

Inurement

Nonprofits, such as those exempt under sections 501(c)(3) and 501(c)(4), are prohibited from having their net earnings inure to the benefit of any individual.[3] If the net earnings inure to the benefit of an individual, then the organization is not operated exclusively for exempt purposes and is not tax-exempt.[4] Inurement occurs when an organization enters into a transaction that benefits its insiders and not the nonprofit, even if the nonprofit does not suffer a financial loss.[5] Thus, inurement results from a transaction between the exempt organization and an individual who is an insider of the corporation, i.e., someone who has the ability to influence or control the organization’s net earnings, such as a director or officer.[6] As a result, the nonprofit must consider whether the individuals in control of the organization protected the nonprofit’s interests, ensured that transactions with related parties were conducted at arm’s length, and that assets were properly valued.[7]

Private Benefit

Nonprofits under section 501(c)(3) are also required to be operated for exempt purposes.[8] The private benefit standard is derived from this operational test.[9] An organization is not considered “operated exclusively” for exempt purposes if more than an insubstantial part of its activities do not further an exempt purpose.[10] Furthermore, an organization is not organized or operated exclusively for one or more exempt purposes unless it serves a public rather than a private interest.[11] As such, the organization must establish that it is not organized or operated for the benefit of private interests.[12] As a result of this requirement, a section 501(c)(3) nonprofit must ensure that any assets it acquires have been properly valued and that the organization acquired them for a reasonable price.[13] Failure to do so can result in a determination that the organization has provided an impermissible private benefit and thus is not entitled to tax-exempt status.[14]

Excess Benefit Transactions

Nonprofits exempt under sections 501(c)(3) and 501(c)(4) are also subject to an excise tax under section 4958. This tax is imposed on excess benefit transactions between a “disqualified person” and the organization.[15] An excess benefit is any economic benefit a disqualified person receives directly or indirectly from an applicable exempt organization if the value of the economic benefit provided exceeds the value of consideration received.[16] Disqualified persons include not just officers or directors of the organization, but also those in certain relationships with officers and directors, such as immediate family members.[17] Only the excess is subject to the excise tax.[18] The IRS has attempted to assert these penalties in the context of nonprofit mergers and conversions, particularly when it believes that the valuation is not reasonable.[19]

Relinquishing Tax-Exempt Status

Restrictions that come with tax-exempt status continue to apply to the assets of a nonprofit, even if the organization relinquishes its tax-exempt status. Thus, when a tax-exempt organization converts from a tax-exempt entity to a for-profit, it must still ensure that it is carefully following the rules. An organization exempt under section 501(c)(3) is required to dedicate its assets to an exempt purpose.[20] The organization must also ensure that the conversion does not result in private benefit or inurement.[21] These IRS concerns are in addition to any reviews required by the appropriate state charity regulator in the nonprofit’s state of incorporation.

Further considerations may also apply if the organization is a private foundation. Private foundations wishing to terminate or merge with another tax-exempt entity must adhere to the rules for terminating a private foundation under section 507.[22] Failure to comply with those rules or to time the transaction appropriately can result in a substantial termination tax.[23]

Conversions of For-Profits to Nonprofits

When a for-profit converts to a nonprofit, the organizations should be careful to ensure that they are engaging in tax-exempt activities, have properly valued their assets, have paid any necessary taxes under section 337(d) on the appreciation of its assets, and have not been formed to serve private interests. Failure to do so could result in a denial of their request for recognition of tax-exempt status or revocation of their status in an examination.[24]

Conclusion

In the context of tax-exempt organizations, it is important to ensure that any merger, acquisition, or conversion takes into account the organization’s tax-exempt status and ensures that the rules applicable to those organizations are not violated.


[1] All section references are to the Internal Revenue Code of 1986, as amended (the Code), and all regulatory references are to the Treasury Regulations currently in effect under the Code.

[2] Rev. Proc. 2018-15, 2018-9 I.R.B. 376.

[3] I.R.C. § 501(c)(3); I.R.C. § 501(c)(4)(B); Treas. Reg. § 1.501(c)(3)-1(c)(2).

[4] I.R.C. § 501(c)(3); I.R.C. § 501(c)(4)(B); Treas. Reg. § 1.501(c)(3)-1(c)(2).

[5] Anclote Psychiatric Ctr., Inc. v. Comm’r, 76 T.C.M. (CCH) 175 (1998).

[6] See Rev. Rul. 69-283, 1969-1 CB 156 (the IRS has viewed the prohibition as relating only to insider-controlled benefits).

[7] Id.

[8] I.R.C. § 501(c)(3); Treas. Reg. § 1.501(c)(3)-1(c)(1).

[9] I.R.C. § 501(c)(3); Treas. Reg. § 1.501(c)(3)-1(c)(1).

[10] Treas. Reg. § 1.501(c)(3)-1(c)(1).

[11] Treas. Reg. § 1.501(c)(3)-1(d)(1)(ii).

[12] Id.

[13] See, e.g., Hancock Acad. of Savannah v. Comm’r, 69 T.C. 488 (1977).

[14] Id.

[15] I.R.C. § 4958; Treas. Reg. § 53.4958-3 (a disqualified person is any person in a position to exercise substantial influence over the affairs of the organization and those certain relationships with the disqualified person).

[16] Treas. Reg. § 53.4958-1(b).

[17] Treas. Reg. § 53.4958-3.

[18] Treas. Reg. § 53.4958-1(a).

[19] See, e.g., Caracci v. Comm’r, 118 T.C. 379 (2002), rev’d, 456 F. 3d 444 (5th Cir. 2006).

[20] Treas. Reg. § 1.501(c)(3)-1(b)(4).

[21] Anclote Psychiatric Center, Inc. v. Comm’r, 76 T.C.M. (CCH) 175 (1998).

[22] I.R.C. § 507.

[23] I.R.C. § 507(c); I.R.C. § 507(d)(1)(C); Treas. Reg. § 1.507-3.

[24] See, e.g., Rev. Rul. 69-266, 1969-1 C.B. 151.


Meghan R. Biss and Sharon P. Want

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do: The Role of Non-Compete Agreements When Employees Leave to Work for the Competition

Non-compete agreements are contractual restrictions that control employees’ future ability to work for competitors of their current employers, who seek to protect their financial interests and trade secrets. While employers traditionally reserved non-compete agreements, or restrictive covenants, for high-level employees whose departures could present a fiscal impact to the company, non-compete agreements are now common with various levels of employees.

However, not all non-compete agreements are enforceable. Whether a court will enforce a non-compete agreement depends on the subject employee and the imposed restrictions. First, the employer must determine whether the employee poses a risk, and is in possession of trade secrets or confidential information that gives the employer a competitive advantage. If so, the employer must then consider the reasonableness of the restriction as it relates to the duration, scope, and geographical area.[1] For example, the duration of the non-compete restriction should not be excessive compared to the value of confidential information the employee might possess.[2] Further, the scope of duties restricted and the geographical area to which those restrictions apply should be limited to the extent necessary to protect the employer.[3]

Employers should also consider public policy and the laws of applicable jurisdiction, which may weigh heavily on the decision to include a choice of law or forum selection clause. Delaware and California are stark examples of the differing jurisdictional approaches to enforcing non-compete agreements.

In Delaware, the court views restrictive covenants through a contractual lens and will generally enforce reasonable non-compete agreements. Delaware’s public policy respects the freedom to contract, with very limited exceptions, as its courts “respect[] the right of parties to freely contract and to be able to rely on the enforceability of their agreements. . . . [O]ur courts will enforce the contractual scheme that the parties have arrived at through their own self-ordering . . . Upholding freedom of contract is a fundamental policy of this State.”[4] If Delaware courts find an agreement to contain unreasonable terms, the court may choose to invoke the “judicial blue-pencil” to modify the agreement, rather than void it altogether.[5] 

In California, public policy prohibits any restraint on employment based on non-compete agreements. Section 16600 of the Business and Professions Code deems void any kind of contract to the extent it restrains anyone “from engaging in a lawful profession, trade or business of any kind.”[6] California does not consider whether the parties had adequate consideration or whether the terms were reasonable. “The interests of the employee in his own mobility and betterment are deemed paramount to the competitive business interests of employers.”[7] Although California is an at-will employment state, courts have found employers liable in tort for terminating employees who refused to sign a non-compete agreement.[8] The public policy concern with non-compete agreements is very strong; California courts have even voided non-compete agreements between out-of-state employers and employees that leave to work in California.[9]

These are just two different states’ approaches to enforcing non-compete agreements. Each state’s laws and the facts of each case will determine the enforceability of each respective non-compete agreement. These are just a few considerations for a lawyer preparing a non-compete agreement.

Regardless of how reasonable or well-drafted the non-compete agreement may be, the employer must have an action plan in the event an employee breaches the non-compete agreement. Cases involving the violation of non-compete agreements rarely proceed to trial. Thus, counsel should inform employers of all available remedies and consider the strategic effect that requests for injunctive and interim relief will have on the ultimate case disposition.


[1] See generally, e.g., Coady v. Harpo, Inc., 719 N.E.2d 244, 250 (Ill. App. Ct. 1999); Norman D. Bishara et al., An Empiracle Analysis of Noncompetition Clauses and Other Restrictive Postemployement Covenants, 68 Vand. L.J. 1, 28-35 (2015) (addressing the reasonableness requirement for restrictive covenant enforcement).

[2] See supra n. 2.

[3] See generally Philips Elecs. N. Am. Corp. v. Hope, 631 F.Supp.2d 705, 715 (M.D.N.C. 2009); Nev. Rev. Stat. § 613.200 (2017) (some states require the non-compete agreement to have valuable consideration and reasonableness pertaining to duration and scope, which is combined with the geographical area).  

[4] Ascension Ins. Hldgs., LLC v. Underwood, No. Civ. 9897-VCG, 2015 WL 356002, at *4 (Del. Ch. Jan. 28, 2015).

[5] See e.g., Del. Exp. Shuttle, Inc. v. Older, No. Civ.A. 19596, 2002 WL 31458243, at *13–14 (Del. Ch. Oct. 23, 2002) (adjusting a three-year time limit to a more reasonable “two-year duration” and imposing a geographical limitation where there was none).

[6] Cal Bus. & Prof. Code § 16600.

[7] Application Group, Inc. v. Hunter Group, 61 Cal. App. 4th 881, 900 (1998).

[8] D’sa v. Playhut, Inc., 85 Cal. App. 4th 927, 929, 934 (2000) (“[A]n employer cannot lawfully make the signing of an employment agreement, which contains an unenforceable covenant not to compete, a condition of continued employment.”)

[9] See Application Group, Inc., 61 Cal. App. 4th at 899-900 (striking down a Maryland employer’s non-compete agreement with a former employee who moved to work for a California employer).

Director Independence and the Governance Process

This article is adapted from the Director’s Handbook: A Field Guide to 101 Situations Commonly Encountered in the Boardroom, edited by Frank Placenti, and from The Role of Independent Directors in Corporate Governance, Second Edition, by Bruce Dravis.


Even the strongest corporate governance practices cannot guarantee the quality of corporate results.

Governance is about process, not perfection. Governance is a form of corporate risk mitigation, focusing on the decision-making processes within a company to limit the likelihood boards and executives will misuse corporate assets or make ill-considered choices.

Director independence is part of that process and is not a goal in itself. Independence is an imperfect substitute for what investors and policymakers actually want: decision makers who act with integrity and who form judgments on behalf of shareholders after thoughtful and fair consideration of the salient facts, untainted by favoritism.

No rule can predict that an individual will make a virtuous choice at a critical moment. There is no objective test to ensure that a director will think and act on behalf of the best solution for the company, regardless of his or her personal stake in the outcome. Instead, the independence standards in the laws and rules for corporate governance measure potential conflicts of interest, with the assumption that independence from conflicts will produce independence in judgment.

For securities law purposes, the definition of director “independence” is derived in part from the 2002 Sarbanes Oxley Act, in part from the 2010 Dodd-Frank Act, in part from SEC regulations, and substantially from the rules of the NYSE and NASDAQ. In addition, appointment of special committees of the board, or approval of transactions between the company and insiders, can generate state law questions of independence. There are also separate IRS and SEC independence measurements connected to the approval of some executive compensation.

Accordingly, company counsel must consult multiple sources to advise the board on whether a determination of independence falls on the right side or the wrong side of a relevant definition.

Independence is typically considered in terms of a director’s independence from corporate management. Government and exchange independence rules surround corporate managers with individuals both inside and outside the corporation who are in a position to influence management’s decisions and actions, and who not only can form judgments independent of management, but also serve at times as a check on management.

In testing the independence of a director from management, the primary questions relate to whether the director has employment, family, or other significant economic or personal connections to the company, other than serving as a director. A director’s family or economic connections to the company’s outside auditor can also disqualify a director from being independent.

However, independence of directors can also be fact-specific and situational. In litigation, a director who is independent for other purposes could have a stake in the legal issues that renders him or her conflicted.

For that reason, a director who is independent for one purpose may not be independent for all purposes. The board cannot take a “set it and forget it” approach to determination of a director’s independence. If situations change, the determination of independence can change too.

Within the corporate governance process, independence is important at the board level and for committees of the board, many of which are required to be mostly or even entirely comprised of independent directors. Moreover, it is important to measure independence before electing directors or appointing them to critical committees. If a problem arises later, the company may not be able to cure the failure to meet the independence requirement.

The term “independent director” is often used interchangeably with the state corporate law term “disinterested director,” which means a director who does not have an economic or personal interest in a particular transaction or arrangement requiring board approval. The two terms overlap substantially, but they are not identical. Independent directors will be “disinterested directors,” almost as a matter of definition, but not all disinterested directors will be independent. For example, it would be possible for the CEO, as a nonindependent director, to be a “disinterested director” and to vote on a transaction in which another director had a financial or personal interest.

Management knows the day-to-day operations of a company in a way that the board cannot. The board relies on management to present complete and honest assessments of company performance in order to fulfill the board’s oversight duties. The board must ensure that it has processes to ensure that the information it receives is correct and not somehow tainted by honest error, undue optimism, or dishonest manipulation.

Directors who meet the requirements for independence can still make mistakes or misjudgments, and can still wind up being unduly influenced by management. The governance process, however, including director independence, does not promise perfection—just a process to mitigate the risks.


Director’s Handbook demonstrates that while no single legal treatise can hold the answers to all factual situations that clients encounter, one book can hold the important questions that the clients and the lawyers should be asking, offering 10 sample questions across 101 topics to get conversations going within the boardroom and between attorneys and clients. The Role of Independent Directors covers the formal and informal obligations of independent directors, derived from such varied sources as federal securities laws, state corporate and fiduciary laws, stock exchange contractual terms, and investor “best practice” considerations.

Sin Eaters, Moles, and Eternal Damnation: Europe’s Quasi-Religious War Against U.S. Internet Companies

Throughout history, people have waged sectarian fights to protect their beliefs. The Europeans, sitting at a crossroads of two major religions charged with converting the unenlightened, have a particularly combative past.

The belief that privacy is a fundamental human right is currently held as an essential tenet for managing European society. The privacy right is written into the European Union (EU) Charter. This belief is held so deeply among European privacy regulators, presented in such moral and ethical language, and protected with such vehemence against opposing views and practices, that it seems to have become an item of pure faith. The “right to privacy” as defined by regulators has become a semi-religious European principal for maintaining a civilized society.

In the internet age, the EU has built its laws to restrict collection of data about its residents and to restrict company use of such information without specific resident permission for each action taken. The EU asserts that its citizens share faith in emphasizing privacy protection over economic creativity. According to a 2017 poll of 27,000 EU residents taken by the European Commission, 70 percent of the respondents are not willing to sacrifice online privacy in exchange for improved services. EU Commissioner Vera Jourova has said that she believes Americans “should be more attentive about what is happening to their privacy” and that “[w]e [EU legislators] want to set the global standard.” To bolster the weapons of their war against anyone who threatens their beliefs about online privacy, the EU passed the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) applicable as of May 25, 2018, which tightens privacy rules, adds new rights for its residents, and provides a series of new enforcement tools.

EU privacy regulators have spoken plainly about where they would aim the weapons provided in the GDPR. European parliamentarian Viviane Reding, who initiated the GDPR in 2012, told the New Yorker  that she did so because “the big companies, like the American [Google, Amazon, Facebook, and Apple] . . . just ignored the old law.” She then said that under the new regime, penalties for impeding the EU’s privacy priorities would be harsh enough to keep the American tech companies in line. As expected, these American companies were attacked with GDPR lawsuits by European privacy organizations within minutes of the law coming into force. This new religious war over online privacy will force many U.S. companies to depart from data practices and revenue models that have always been legal in the United States.

To examine the unilateral extraterritorial effects of the GDPR, it is necessary to separate the essential function of the law—protecting EU resident privacy—from the new rules instituted to expand execution of the law. Many companies headquartered in the EU and elsewhere may completely agree with the personal data protections at the core of the GDPR; however, thousands of U.S. companies have grown internet-based business models over the past 25 years without the regulatory restrictions necessary to meet GDPR’s obligations, and those companies may lose their core revenue generation by acceding to the new EU requirements. So without addressing the wisdom of the EU’s privacy priorities and regulatory regime in contrast to those of the United States, this article examines new GDPR enforcement mechanisms apparently directed at bringing to heel companies headquartered and primarily operating outside of the EU.

In other words, this article is not addressing what privacy rights should exist, whether the EU or U.S. views of privacy are ethical or correct, or any other matter relevant to how people should be protected online or how data-collecting entities should comport themselves. Instead, the following paragraphs analyze the EU attempts to enforce their privacy laws on U.S. companies and the often unprecedented tools created to effectuate extraterritorial enforcement. The EU beliefs are not questioned, only their manner of imposing the practice of those beliefs on others who may not hold them in an effort to manage the data of EU residents wherever it resides.

Bolstering the Brussels Effect

With 500 million mostly well-off people, the EU has been able to force world economies to comply with its rules in order to do business there. Pushing that economic weight around to change the behavior of citizens in other jurisdictions has been called the “Brussels Effect.” The United States also uses its economic power to affect the behavior of importers, but U.S. laws tend toward low regulation and confirmation of accepted international norms. The EU, on the other hand, not only pushes its priorities on foreign companies, but also sharply regulates behavior in many areas, from anti-trust to chemicals to food safety. As Alan Beattie wrote in the Financial Times, “The U.S. complains bitterly that the EU’s approach leads to products such as beef raised with growth hormones, or poultry washed in chlorinated water, being banned from sale in Europe.” Exporters from less industrialized countries find it even more difficult to meet the EU requirements.

Many of the EU regulatory positions can be surprising to U.S. citizens because they reflect the ways in which European society and priorities differ from those in the United States. For example, Europeans tend to be more concerned than others about chemicals or new treatments for food, while allowing less pasteurization than U.S. states for milk products. More relevant to this article, Europeans tend to be more willing to police business models and behavior with proscriptive rules on environmental, consumer, and employment issues. In an article on the Brussels Effect in the Northwestern Law Review, Columbia Law School professor Anu Bradford wrote, “EU policymakers’ preference for stringent regulation reflects their aversion to risk and commitment to a social market economy. European consumers rank environment and food safety higher than crime and terrorism when asked to evaluate various risks, leading to distinctly high levels of consumer and environmental protection.”

The EU often portrays its aggressive personally protective regulatory stance as “normatively desirable” policy enlightening the rest of the world. For example, the EU Commission issued a statement in 2007  that directly stated the unilateralist ethical goals of its regulatory scheme, which “gives the EU the potential to shape global norms and to ensure that fair rules are applied to worldwide trade and investment. The single market of the future should be the launch pad of an ambitious global agenda.” The EU leadership believes it knows best how other countries and their businesses should behave, and the EU works to set the standard for less-enlightened countries like the United States. As Professor Bradford wrote, “In describing its global role, the EU legitimizes its strategies by claiming that its values and policies are normatively desirable and universally applicable. Seen in this light, the EU’s externalization of its regulatory preferences reflects altruistic purposes of a benign hegemon. . . . By emphasizing the universal benefits of its global regulatory agenda, the EU often succeeds in obscuring the de facto unilateralism that drives its implementation.”

However, where the EU sees benevolent moral leadership, others see raw economic protectionism. In the February 22, 2018 edition of The Daily Telegraph, Legatum Institute Special Trade Association Chairman Shankar Sindham wrote, “The drive toward ever-greater regulatory prescription means that the European Union is acting in a protectionist manner.” The Czech president Vaclav Klaus recognized this in his 1997 book Renaissance: The Rebirth of Liberty in the Heart of Europe in which he wrote, “claims for quasi-universal social rights are disguised attempts to protect high-cost producers in highly regulated countries, with unsustainable welfare standards, against cheaper labor in less productive countries.” Admitting the effect and the motivation, in 2011 the EU Commission wrote in a public communication to the European Parliament, “. . . the creation of the European standard [shall] be carried out rapidly with the aim of asserting it as an international standard. This would maximize first mover advantage and increase the competitiveness of European industry.” It is not surprising that the EU Commission would recognize that shackling costly regulations to the businesses of Asia, Africa, and North and South America would be a boon to the competitiveness of European industry that must follow these regulations at home.

Whatever the motivations, the Brussels Effect is a real influence on foreign companies and the foreign governments that support them. Although food, chemicals, and environmental protectionism have been the regulatory beachheads of the recent past, data privacy has been brewing for decades as a battle in waiting, and Europe is now taking its crusade to the rest of the world.

Privacy and Human Rights

Both the EU and United States enforce rules to protect the privacy of their residents. The United States protects its residents’ financial, health, and children’s information, and it otherwise allows regulators to penalize companies for committing unfair or deceptive data practices. This targeted system enables business to build new models of data management that will generally be legally challenged only if a consumer or employee is hurt by the activity.

The EU regulation begins from a different set of assumptions. Under the EU regime, a resident, or “data subject,” has a fundamental right to determine how certain information relating to the data subject is collected and used by others. The 1995 EU Data Privacy Directive held that information systems “must, whatever the nationality or residence of natural persons, respect their fundamental rights and freedoms, notably the right to privacy.” The GDPR, which replaced this directive, contains similar language. So if an EU resident hands information to a social network, runs an internet search, or buys a pair of shoes online, the companies handling his or her data may only use the information for the purpose it was provided and nothing more without permission of the data subject. Overarching regulations make data-collecting entities prove that they are complying with this rule or suffer crippling penalties.

The EU has now increased efforts to force U.S. companies to treat information in the manner prescribed by EU regulations, even where some of these regulations might violate the U.S. Constitution. Passage of the new GDPR deepens the European effort to hold U.S. business to otherwise inapplicable EU standards of data management.

The GDPR tightens some requirements to protect the data of individuals, it adds new personal protections like the right to data portability, and it creates enforcement mechanisms to encourage compliance. Some of these enforcement mechanisms extend the reach of National Data Protection Authorities to companies residing outside the EU.

Privacy Protection as a Moral Imperative

To analyze the GDPR’s enforcement regime, we must first examine why the EU feels justified in acting unilaterally in forcing non-EU companies to follow internal European rules. Some of this reasoning is purely practical. We live in a world where a digitized unit of information can flow to thousands of computers in hundreds of jurisdictions simultaneously and be copied an effectively infinite number of times. So when protecting the private data of its residents, it may be rational for a parliament to try to extend those protections beyond its borders to wherever the private resident data resides, or at least try to burden the companies removing the data with obligations consistent with local laws. Otherwise, data escapes the jurisdiction instantly and is beyond the reach of EU regulators.

As shown above, however, some of the justification is moral. The EU data protection board has written that due to the weakening in the United States of legal restraints on privacy in digital markets, “that the EU should lead the conversation on the ethical consequences of the digital transformation.” Vera Jourova, the EU Commissioner in charge of privacy, has described the GDPR as a “loaded gun” for regulators and said, “If we can export this to the rest of the world, I will be happy.” She has also said that she found U.S. data protections to be weak, that the EU Commissioners would like to see U.S. privacy law move closer to EU law, and that “I am not satisfied but we will have to live with the legislation as it is now in the U.S.” The EU regulators see their new law as a morally protective law that should be exported to the rest of the world. From the first days of the EU, privacy was listed as one of the fundamental human rights.

Casting a fuzzy, complicated, and circumstance-dependent concept like data privacy as a fundamental human right is an inherently combative position. Fundamental human rights are essential to a civilized and moral existence, so a society that refuses to recognize such a right is, by definition, immoral. As editors of the Economist wrote August 16, 2001, “In the eyes of governments today, certain human rights in the civil and political realm have attained the status of moral absolutes. Abusers of these rights face sanctions and censure, even if their actions are mandated by the democratic processes of a sovereign state.” If privacy is a fundamental right for the EU, then the EU can justify as a moral imperative sanctioning anyone who violates the EU’s interpretation of that right. A specific flavor of personal privacy protection has become a religion to EU regulators, and they intend to spread the religion to the rest of us, whether we want it or not.

Tools of the Holy War

The GDPR and previous EU privacy law contains several novel tools for forcing countries and companies outside the EU’s direct jurisdiction to comply with the EU’s privacy rules. In this crusade to force submission to EU priorities, Europe has implemented old strategies and tried entirely new ones. It remains to be seen how effective any or all of these weapons will be, but the international order has just been introduced to a new era of European ethics-based aggression through extraterritorial regulation.

Adequacy

Distinguishing between believers and nonbelievers is a core feature of most modern religions. Just as religions divide the population into categories of the saved and the damned, the faithful and the infidel, and the chosen and the heathen, Europe has divided the nations of the world into the chosen few who have accepted EU privacy regulations into their hearts (and laws), and the great unwashed many who are not allowed to receive EU resident data without special dispensation. Couched in terms that assume a country’s failure to measure up an appropriate standard, rather than the usual regulatory language of compliance versus noncompliance, the EU judges whether other nations’ laws are “adequate” to store the data of Europeans.

The EU’s first step in establishing its moral authority in the privacy realm is the notion of “adequacy standards.” This tool for imposing the EU’s entire privacy regime on other countries has been in place prior to passage of the GDPR. EU rules provide that nations must have adequate data protection that comes close enough to the EU ethical standards so that personal information arising from the EU can be transferred to those jurisdictions. As reported in the Financial Times on May 13, 2018, the EU “is exporting digital governance not through reciprocal deals but unilaterally bestowing ‘adequacy’ recognition on trading partners before allowing them to transfer data.” Canada, Argentina, and the Faroe Islands are morally adequate. Most of the rest of us are not. Under this scheme, the EU holds out the promise of economic cooperation with any country that comes on bended knee to establish data adequacy. For “inadequate” countries, EU rules forbid transfer of private data of EU residents to these jurisdictions unless their businesses jump through additional hoops, mostly prescribed in EU regulations. Bend to Brussels on this human right, or your companies suffer extra costs, regulatory burdens, and likely fines.

Required EU Representation

In Britain during past centuries, people employed the services of a sin eater to absorb the sins of relatives who died without confession, thus keeping the soul of the dead from walking the earth. By eating a ritual meal, often off of the chest of the deceased, the sin eater allowed a family to more peaceably bury their recently lost relative, but the cost to the sin eater was great. He was not only an outcast, but he bore the cumulative burden of all of the sins from all of the dead people for whom he performed the ceremony, and he carried that burden into the afterlife.

Similarly, the EU has created a new role—a person paid exclusively to accept and receive the regulatory or legal burden for the data privacy sins of foreign companies—an official role hardly enforced before the implementation of GDPR. Article 27 of the GDPR requires foreign entities that are caught by the extra-territorial provisions of the GDPR to appoint a representative in one of the EU member states where its data subjects reside. The National Data Protection Authorities and aggrieved EU data subjects are given the right to fine or sue this representative either alongside or instead of the foreign entity that improperly handled EU data. Thus, like the sin eater, this representative is appointed to pay for the sins of his customer. Many jurisdictions require companies to name a local representative to receive official correspondence, but this is the first modern civil statute to require a local punching bag.

It is assumed that any entity accepting this GDPR sin eater role will be able to receive indemnification for the official penalties from the foreign entity that actually committed the penalized offense, but there are obviously no guaranties. The offending foreign entity may escape collection actions in any number of ways, and the law assumes that the GDPR sin eater will be able to afford to attempt collection after paying its fines. The EU governing bodies do not seem to care about leaving the GDPR sin eater with the entire burden of regulatory action so long as the bureaucrats and/or data subjects are paid. This system seems rife with problems and inconsistencies, such as how to assure that the representative cannot simply close its doors without paying anything.

Data Protection Officers

In 1541, John Calvin returned to Geneva, managed to pass a set of ecclesiastical ordinances, and ruled the city with both an iron hand and a severe theology. His government proscribed all forms of celebration, frivolity, dancing, card games, and theater, and it outlawed anything but the plainest dress. “Libertines” who opposed this regime were tortured and excommunicated. In order to catch those Geneva citizens opposed to the new religious laws, Calvin sent preachers into people’s homes to both teach them in the ways of his harsh new religion and to interrogate the citizens. He sent spies to all corners of the city. Every parish had its own assigned moles and infiltrators.

In the present day, the EU privacy rules create its own new specialized role of teacher, inquisitor, and mole. Many entities subject to the GDPR must appoint a data protection officer (DPO) who reports to the entity’s highest ranking officer, but whose loyalties are expected to be given to the EU data protection bureaucracy. The statutorily defined roles of the DPO include advising his or her company of its GDPR obligations, monitoring and auditing compliance with GDPR rules, cooperating with GDPR regulators, and “acting as the contact point for the supervisory authority” with regard to any matter. Entities under the GDPR are required to grant the EU regulators an internal spy to teach the new religion, interrogate colleagues, and identify internal infidelity and apostasy as contact person for the authorities. One more thing. This mole cannot be fired for any reason that might be interpreted as “performing his or her tasks.” So not only does the EU require that a company hire and pay a person who is, by definition, not entirely loyal to the company, but the company cannot punish or terminate that person for disloyalty to the company.

Presumably the DPO will be expected to report on the adequacy of his or her own company’s expenditure of money on GDPR compliance, making judgments about whether the company is spending enough to satisfy EU privacy regulators. It is also likely that the DPO will be called upon to testify against the company at regulatory hearings and court proceedings, and cannot be terminated for doing so even if the employing company does not agree with the facts of the testimony. It will be easiest for the DPO to hue to the most conservative construction of a wildly vague and unmanageable law, potentially costing the DPO’s company vast resources in strictest compliance. The DPO removes a company’s flexibility in interpreting the law and how to conform with it.

Favoring EU Residents in Enforcement Cases

Saint Augustine of Hippo, writing in the 4th and 5th centuries, illuminated the Christian doctrine of original sin, which posits that every human is born sinful. The concept of original sin was formalized as part of Roman Catholic doctrine by the Councils of Trent in the 16th century. Original sin is not simply an inherited spiritual defect in human nature. It is also the “condemnation” that goes with that fault. Under this doctrine, all humans should be automatically considered to be sinners and therefore condemned for their sins without need to prove that the sins occurred.

The EU has initiated a similar concept, stacking the deck against any company that loses EU resident data and leaning heavily toward condemnation of the accused. In audits, GDPR adds the “accountability principle,” according to which every data controller is obliged to prove its fulfilment of all the legal requirements based on internal paperwork. The company is assumed to be in violation of the law unless it can prove otherwise. The EU, like some religions, judges a company guilty unless proven completely innocent.

This direction is especially troublesome in the instance of data loss through hacking. There is no such thing as absolute security. Any system can be hacked or broken with enough time, resources, and cleverness. A clear example is the theft of $100,000,000 of gold, diamonds, and jewelry from the Antwerp Diamond Exchange in February 2003. Despite tens of millions spent by the exchange on a private full-time security force and all of the latest protective measures, thieves were still able to break into the vaults deep underground and steal diamonds. The same is true for stealing data. Insiders or brilliant hackers can break into any company’s system and can access the information inside even if the target company has done everything possible to protect the information.

The European Union refuses to acknowledge this basic fact about our world, building audit assumptions into its law that any victim of data hacking is automatically responsible for its own victimization. The GDPR view of litigation is not much better. Previous cases have shown that every company holding an EU resident’s private data assumes an automatic obligation to protect that data. If a regulator or claimant then makes a showing that the data was exposed under the company’s control, the company is presumed liable unless the company can prove “that it is not in any way responsible for the event giving rise” to the data exposure. How would a company prove that it is not in any way responsible for a theft? That is one of the many holes left to speculation by the EU privacy authorities.

How could a U.S. company fall afoul of this new favoritism to EU data subjects? Any little mistake in data protection or any action taken to comply with the GDPR that EU regulators felt did not go quite far enough could sink a company into fines and EU resident compensation. For example, the GDPR requires that a company store data for a “strict minimum” period of time. If a company’s definition of “strict minimum” in this circumstance is less stringent than the EU regulators, then the company doesn’t meet its burden of showing it was “in no way responsible” for the breach. The EU enforcement bureaucracy would argue that if the data were purged earlier, then it would not have been improperly accessed. In short, the new subjective standard combined with vague requirements likely means that a company suffering a data hack is fiscally responsible for any data exposures regardless of how strong its data protections might be.

In addition, the GDPR assigns liability to both data controllers and data processors, so we should expect to see hacking attacks on data processors that result in damages against the processor for failing to stop the hackers, and against the controller for failing to hire a processor with impossibly perfect security. Both companies will have a difficult time overriding the presumption that they are each responsible for losses of data, so both are likely to be forced to pay regulators and data subjects whenever data is lost.

Statutory Damages

Religion is a salve for the soul, providing answers and comfort in the hardest of times. The EU has decided that its residents with privacy claims should also receive a salve for their emotional turmoil and has built this plan into the GDPR. Thus, the companies found liable under the scheme described above will be paying cash compensation for embarrassment, emotional distress, practical frustration, and hurt feelings of data subjects.

Under Article 82 of the GDPR, any person who has suffered material or nonmaterial damage as a result of an infringement of the GDPR has the right to receive compensation from the data controller or processor ruled responsible for the damage suffered. The individual is entitled to bring a compensation claim in the courts. Throughout the world, lawsuits against companies that lost data to hackers have generally either been settled by the parties or dismissed. One of the primary reasons for the many dismissals has been the inability of plaintiffs to prove damages. The plaintiffs can often show that data describing them held by defendant entities was lost to thieves, but cannot demonstrate or account for significant or quantifiable damages arising from these losses. The new EU position will change this dynamic so that any person who can successfully claim that his or her data was lost receives the benefit of the doubt that he or she was harmed in some way by the loss. The claimant will not need to quantify the losses to collect from a company not meeting EU standards.

We have not yet seen exactly how this benefit plays out, but it is reasonable to believe that little more than hurt feelings and extra time spent calling banks will be enough for a payout from the controller and/or processor. A common nonquantifiable request by plaintiffs in U.S. cases has been based on fear of identity theft. It is anticipated that such nebulous fears will be compensable under the GPDR. So not only will U.S. companies be targeted in Europe under the new law, but the entire deck is stacked against them. Standard tort law around the world is based on a plaintiff proving that the defendant had an obligation to protect the plaintiff, that the defendant behaved in a manner that makes it liable to the plaintiff, and that the plaintiff has demonstrable damages arising from this behavior. In EU agencies set up for the sole purpose of protecting the rights of data subjects, the obligation of data-possessing companies is assumed to exist, and the playing field is further tipped against data-possessing companies on both liability and damages by the GDPR. It is difficult to see how a company that lost data in a computer hack could win in an action based on the GDPR no matter what the circumstances.

Given this practical near impossibility of emerging unscathed from an award of damages under GDPR, it will be surprising if any insurance companies will be willing in the future to provide broad cyber coverage to U.S. companies doing business in Europe. Of course, it is possible that the insurance industry will simply begin to write exclusions for the inevitable EU lawsuits and regulatory actions, as well as the penalties and damages likely to follow, with brutally expensive premiums to pull EU risks back under the policy. The risks for business have drastically changed, and insurance calculations will soon follow.

Huge Penalties

Religions often propose impossibly terrifying punishments for those people who do not live according to their tenets—banishment, stoning, eternal damnation, and constant regressive recycling of lives to name a few. The terrors are necessary to keep the faithful in line and to mete out karma to those who deserve it. Some of the worst punishments imaginable have been invented or perfected in the name of religion.

The GDPR, in an admitted attempt to rein in the U.S. data giants like Google and Facebook, has structured an absurdly high set of punishments for companies that it weighs in the balance and finds wanting. Fines against noncompliant companies can be the greater of € 20 million or 4 percent of the company’s global gross annual revenue, which could be as high as $2.8 billion in the case of Facebook or $3.5 billion for Google. This degree of damaging punishment is much greater than the EU has previously charged criminal enterprises committing massive fraud on the public. Prior to 2018, the EU record for criminal fines on antitrust price collusion was $3.2 billion split up against at least five truck manufacturers, which doubled the previous highest antitrust fine. Counting the most recent monster $5.1 billion anti-trust ruling, the EU’s two biggest fines ever were waged against Google and its parent, Alphabet, and the EU seems to be gearing up for more crippling penalties against U.S. technology companies.

Why would the EU penalties for operating a database business—a business legal under nearly all other laws in the world including those in the United States—be several times higher than previous penalties for nontechnology businesses intentionally violating EU rules and even for blatantly lying to regulators? Often logic is cast aside in a religious war in favor of harshly punishing those who may not agree with the fighter’s strongly held beliefs. The EU could be taking these extreme positions to create room for its own industry in the most profitable technological realms of the 21st century; however, the extreme punishments of data holding companies, combined with a system that strips presumptions of fairness in the process leading to punishment, may simply be a European power play to bring the rest of the world in line with EU beliefs on privacy.

The unprecedented set of enforcement tools described above enable the EU to attack extraterritorially and punish U.S. businesses for violating the GDPR. This regime is apparently driven more by emotion and faith than logic or respect for the traditional international order, and will create chaos and wildly unfair results for U.S. companies. American business must understand the rules and their impact to decide whether offering data services in Europe, in the midst of a holy war against U.S. data policies, is worth the risk.

Charging Orders and Taxes: Some of the Answers May Surprise You

Most post-judgment enforcement remedies employed by creditors result in easily understood and predictable tax consequences to the parties involved. A charging order is different, however, because it peculiarly combines two remedies; namely, an involuntary lien (attachment) against the debtor’s interest in an LLC or partnership, and a non-wage garnishment of the income stream from that interest such that the creditor receives the distributional income and not the debtor. To add to the confusion, in the majority of states the charging order lien may be foreclosed by way of a judicial sale at which the creditor or a third-party may be the winning bidder. All of these actions may result in unforeseen tax consequences to the affected parties as the following article demonstrates.


Once a charging order has been entered, certain tax issues arise.[1] As will be discussed, the treatment of these issues differs between the stage at which the charging order has simply been issued but prior to foreclosure (preforeclosure) and after the creditor’s charging order lien has been foreclosed upon by the creditor (post-foreclosure). Due to the fact that these issues may impact the creditor, the debtor, the entity itself, and the buyer at a judicial sale (who might not be the creditor), consideration of the effect upon these parties at each phase is likewise necessary.[2]

Here, we must be reminded that a charging order is merely the legal vehicle by which a lien is placed by the creditor upon the debtor’s economic right to distributions from the entity. Foreclosure of a charging order correspondingly means that the creditor has liquidated its lien only in the debtor’s economic right to distributions, and whoever ends up owning that interest merely takes that right without more.

Pre-Foreclosure

Tax Implications to the Creditor

After the issuance of a charging order, the creditor becomes a mere lienholder of the debtor’s economic right to distributions;—no more, no less.[3] As such, the creditor will treat the cash received as a result of the charging order lien no differently than other money the creditor might receive as a result of other collection efforts. In other words, if the creditor would be taxed on the money that it receives through other collection efforts (such as arising from an action sounding in contract), then it will be taxed on the money that it receives pursuant to a charging order as well. Conversely, if the creditor would not pay tax on the money that it receives (such as from a personal injury award), then it should not be taxed on the charging order money either.

As a mere lienholder, the creditor in the preforeclosure stage is not an “assignee” of the interest for tax purposes and therefore for tax purposes is not treated as a partner. As discussed further below, this treatment will change if the creditor obtains the debtor’s interest through foreclosure.

It is not uncommon in charging order proceedings, however, for the entity or the judgment-debtor to attempt to treat the judgment-creditor as a partner for tax purposes preforeclosure, and to send the creditor a K-1 for the moneys that the creditor received pursuant to the charging order. In such an event, the creditor must take action to advise the IRS that the K-1 has not been properly issued to it.

Tax Implications to the Debtor

For the debtor in the preforeclosure phase, the debtor remains the partner for tax purposes and remains responsible for his or her allocated share of the entity’s tax items, including income and gain, even if he or she never receives a distribution, it being diverted to the judgment-creditor by the charging order.[4] It is the debtor who properly receives the K-1 showing the allocation of income from the LLC and is responsible for the tax liability generated thereby.[5]

Even as the debtor recognizes the allocated portion of the LLC’s income and other tax items, in certain circumstances the judgment-debtor may also have a deduction in the amount diverted to the creditor consequent to the charging order.

Tax Reporting Implications for the Entity

At the preforeclosure stage, the entity essentially takes no notice of the creditor for tax purposes and continues to issue K-1s to the debtor in the normal course, even though distributions are redirected to the creditor. At this stage, the entity must reject the almost-inevitable entreaties by the debtor that the K-1 be issued to the creditor. The entity must reject those requests; issuing the K-1 to the creditor would be improper.

Post-Foreclosure

Tax Implications to the Creditor

The foreclosure of the interest presumably will result in a cash payment to the creditor (otherwise, as discussed in Chapter 18 relating to foreclosures, there really is little incentive to even seek foreclosure in the first place). The cash payment received by the creditor should be treated for tax purposes as any other payment received from the debtor, i.e., it may or may not be taxable to the creditor because of the nature of the underlying dispute, but that has nothing to do with the charging order or foreclosure.

While there is essentially no guidance specifically with respect to the foreclosure of a charging order, the creditor should undertake a careful analysis before making a credit bid at a foreclosure sale. For example, if the credit bid is below market, is there a non-taxable bargain purchase? If the LLC has made a Code § 754 election, how will that apply? The creditor should consider Form 1099 reporting obligations with respect to the receipt of the foreclosure proceeds. Also, a creditor purchasing at a foreclosure sale, whether pursuant to a credit bid or otherwise, should consider in advance the implications of a subsequent sale of the interest at fair market value.

Tax Implications to the Purchaser

The purchaser is the winning bidder at the judicial sale, which takes place as part of the foreclosure of the creditor’s charging order lien on the debtor’s interest. The purchaser may be the creditor (who can make a “credit bid” of part or all of the outstanding judgment, or pay in cash like any other bidder), or it can be some third-party buyer at the judicial sale who pays cash.

Regardless, the purchaser at the judicial sale becomes an “assignee” of the debtor’s now-former interest. As an assignee of the interest, the purchaser effectively becomes a partner of the entity for tax purposes, and this is so even though the purchaser is simply taking the debtor’s economic rights to distributions but does take any other rights, such as voting or management rights.[6] The upshot is that the purchaser at the judicial sale should thereafter receive a K-1 for taxable distributions from the entity so long as the purchaser holds that interest.

Tax Implications to the Debtor

Presumably, the foreclosure will as to the debtor be treated as a sale of a partnership interest, with the debtor recognizing gain or loss, and being treated as having surrendered the sale proceeds to the creditor in either partial or full satisfaction of the underlying judgment, with the tax treatment thereof the equivalent to any payment the debtor might make to the creditor of funds generated other than from the LLC and the charged interest.

Given that the judicial sale has the effect of entirely severing the debtor’s economic interest in the entity, the debtor should from that date no longer receive any allocation of entity tax items (income, gain, loss, deduction, or credit).

In considering the tax implications of the foreclosure, the debtor should consider a variety of factors including his/her/its basis in its interest, the deemed treatment of the proceeds of the foreclosure sale and the deemed distribution to the debtor resulting from the reduction in the debtor’s share of LLC’s liabilities.

Tax Reporting Implications for the Entity

As noted, following the judicial sale, it is the purchaser of the interest who is treated as a partner for tax purposes. The entity should therefore provide the purchaser with a K-1 reflecting appropriate tax allocations from that date forward. Correspondingly, the debtor should no longer receive tax allocations from that date, nor receive a K-1 for the post-judicial sale period.


The tax treatment of charging orders is among the myriad of procedural and substantive issues that confront LLC planners and litigators alike. This chapter is excerpted from the newly released Charging Orders Practice Guide, which discusses the most common such issues and their solutions.


 [1].   For these purposes, it is assumed that the LLC in question is, for purposes of federal tax classification regulations, a “partnership” and not a “disregarded entity” or a “corporation.”

[2].   See also Thomas E. Rutledge & Sarah Sloan Wilson (now Sarah Sloan Reeves), An Examination of the Charging Order Under Kentucky’s LLC and Partnership Acts (Part II), 99 Ky. L.J. 107, 108–13 (2010–11).

[3].   See Ky. Rev. Stat. Ann. § 275.260(3) (charging order is not an assignment); accord § 362.285(4) (KyUPA); § 362. 481(3) (KyRULPA); § 362.1-504(4) (KyRUPA); § 362.2-703(3) (KyULPA).

[4].   See GCM 36960 (1977), Rev. Rul. 77-137, 1977-1 C.B. 178; see also Treas. Reg. § 1.704-1(e)(2)(ix); Robert R. Keatinge, Transfers of Partnership and LLC Interests-Assignees, Transferees, Creditors, Heirs, Donees, and Other Successors in Proceedings of the 32nd Annual Philip E. Heckerling Institute on Estate Planning (1998), at § 504.3; Priv. Ltr. Rul. 8434047 (where assignee of interests in limited partnership may vote and in so voting bind assignor to vote in accordance thereto, and assignees are otherwise granted rights to information, assignee treated as a “partner” for purposes of the Code); Priv. Ltr. Rul. 8440081.

[5].   See also Keatinge, supra note Ch.27, fn. 4. (“Where the charging order is similar to a garnishment, the debtor/partner will probably be treated as the partner, required to include the distributive share of income and loss and entitled to a deduction if the payment of the judgment would give rise to a deduction.”); Christopher M. Riser, Tax Consequences of Charging Orders, 1 Asset Protection J. 14 (Winter 2000); Carter G. Bishop & Daniel S. Kleinberger, Limited Liability Companies-Tax and Business Law ¶ 8.07[1][a][ii].

[6].   Rev. Rul. 77-137, 1977-1 C.B. 178. See also Rev. Rul. 77-332, 1977-2 C.B. 483 (discussing non-CPAs in accounting firms who for state law purposes are not partners but who are partners for tax purposes). Assuming the foreclosure sale takes place during the LLC’s/partnership’s tax year, there will be issues as to how the allocations of tax items is over the course of that year allocated between the judgment-debtor and the acquirer by foreclosure. The treatment of the debtor’s right to participate in the venture’s management is as provided for in the controlling agreement and organizational act.

You Were Relying on What? The Effect of a Pro-Sandbagging Clause on a Fraud Claim

A “pro-sandbagging” clause is a provision in an acquisition agreement in which the seller of a company agrees that the buyer’s knowledge prior to the closing will not affect the buyer’s ability to bring a claim against the seller after the closing.[1] Typically, the pro-sandbagging clause is limited to the buyer’s potential indemnification claim if any of the contractual representations and warranties are inaccurate.[2] For example, a pro-sandbagging clause might read:

Buyer’s right to indemnification for any representations, warranties, or covenants within this acquisition agreement shall not be affected by any inspection, investigation, or knowledge acquired by Buyer (or that could have been acquired by Buyer).[3]

In cases where, prior to closing, the buyer has actual or constructive knowledge that a representation or warranty is inaccurate, this clause allows the buyer to complete the acquisition and then seek indemnification for the inaccurate representation or warranty after the closing (thereby “sandbagging” the seller).[4]

In some cases, however, the pro-sandbagging clause may be broader and not limited solely to an indemnification claim or the contractual representations and warranties. For example, the clause might read:

Buyer’s rights and remedies related to any representations, warranties, or covenants made by the Seller or the Acquisition Company shall not be affected by any inspection, investigation, or knowledge acquired by Buyer (or that could have been acquired by Buyer).

On its face, this provision includes all rights and remedies related to any representations made by the sellers or the acquisition company (including extra-contractual representations).[5] As a result, a buyer may attempt to apply this provision when bringing a fraud claim related to representations made by the seller or the acquisition company, including representations made outside of the contract. This article analyzes whether such a broad pro-sandbagging provision could allow a buyer to bring a post-closing fraud claim where, prior to the closing, the buyer had actual or constructive knowledge that the representation was actually or potentially false. In other words, can a pro-sandbagging clause negate an essential element of a fraud claim (i.e., reasonable reliance)?

I. Why Would a Buyer Want to Apply a Pro-Sandbagging Clause to a Fraud Claim?

The application of a pro-sandbagging clause typically arises in the context of a contractual indemnification claim. Still, there are two important situations where a buyer might attempt to apply a broad pro-sandbagging clause to a fraud claim. One situation is where a buyer is trying to avoid a contractual limitation on the amount of damages that it can recover for an indemnification claim. The other situation is where the buyer seeks damages based on extra-contractual representations by the seller.

First, many acquisition agreements include limitations on the sellers’ potential liability for indemnification claims. The seller will often agree to indemnify the buyer for losses caused by inaccurate representations and warranties, but only up to a certain capped amount.[6] In these situations, a buyer would not be able to recover damages greater than the capped amount under an indemnification claim. Notwithstanding these provisions, some states (including Delaware) hold that parties cannot contractually limit the seller’s liability for fraud.[7] These states reason that immunizing fraud is so against public policy that the court will ignore the parties’ contractual limitation on liability for a valid fraud claim.[8] Thus, a buyer may prefer to pursue a fraud claim over (or in addition to) an indemnification claim to avoid a contractual limitations cap on the damages that the buyer can recover. In such a situation, the buyer’s fraud claims would be significantly stronger if it could apply a pro-sandbagging clause to avoid any dispute about what, if any, knowledge the buyer acquired (or could have acquired) during the due diligence process.

Second, a buyer may want to pursue a fraud claim when the allegedly false statement is not included among the contractual representations and warranties in the acquisition agreement. Such extra-contractual statements may be actionable, provided that the acquisition agreement does not include an integration and/or a “nonreliance” provision.[9] Again, the buyer’s fraud claim is stronger if it can apply a pro-sandbagging clause to avoid any argument regarding the buyer’s actual or constructive knowledge regarding the accuracy of the seller’s extra-contractual representation.

II. The Common Law Regarding Sandbagging

Before considering the potential application of a pro-sandbagging provision to a fraud claim, it is important to understand different jurisdictions’ default law regarding “sandbagging” in contractual indemnification claims and the rationale for the common law.

A. The Modern Rule

Even absent an explicit pro-sandbagging provision, many jurisdictions follow the “modern rule,” which permits a buyer to bring an indemnification claim for inaccurate representations and warranties, regardless of the buyer’s knowledge of the inaccuracies prior to the closing. These courts hold that the representations and warranties are negotiated contractual obligations upon which the buyer had the right to rely.[11] The buyer is deemed to have purchased the seller’s promise that the company will meet the representations and warranties, and the seller may not avoid that promise just because the buyer has doubts (or even actual or constructive knowledge) regarding the accuracy or inaccuracy of the representations.[12] Indeed, where the buyer has reason to doubt the accuracy of the representation, the seller’s promise may be the most important.[13] The buyer wants to be certain that if the representation or warranty is not accurate, then the seller will bear any related losses, not the buyer. Among the states following the modern rule are Delaware, New York, Illinois, Florida, Connecticut, and Indiana.[14]

B. The Traditional Rule

Other states still follow the “traditional rule,” which is grounded in tort rather than contract law principles.[15] Under the traditional rule, a buyer must prove reliance on the representation or warranty as an element of the indemnification claim.[16] In these states, the contractual indemnification claims are similar to fraud claims, with reasonable reliance being a necessary element. The leading states that require a plaintiff prove reliance for a contractual indemnification claim include California, Kansas, Minnesota, and Texas.[17]

III. The Potential Application of a Pro-Sandbagging Provision on a Fraud Claim

In nearly every state, in order to prove a fraud claim, the buyer must show that it “reasonably relied” on the alleged fraudulent representation.[18] Under normal circumstances, a plaintiff cannot reasonably rely on a misstatement if the plaintiff knew that the statement was false.[19] Indeed, in some jurisdictions, a plaintiff cannot prove reasonable reliance if it merely had reason to doubt the representation.[20] Thus, the question will be whether a pro-sandbagging clause can negate the reasonable reliance element of a fraud claim.

A. The Seller’s Argument

A seller defending a fraud claim will likely argue that the buyer did not reasonably rely on the alleged representation because the buyer acquired knowledge during due diligence which caused (or should have caused) the buyer to doubt the alleged representation.[21] The seller will argue that a buyer cannot “reasonably rely” on a representation if the buyer discovered contradictory information during the due diligence process.[22] The seller will claim it would be “unreasonable” for the buyer to rely on a representation that the buyer’s own due diligence gave it reason to doubt. The seller also may argue that the buyer has no “right to rely” on information that it should have discovered as part of its due diligence.[24]

Where the acquisition agreement contains a broad pro-sandbagging clause, the seller may still argue that the buyer’s actions undermine any allegation that the buyer actually relied on the representation. The seller may argue that if the buyer were truly relying on a representation that the buyer had reason to question, the buyer would have negotiated an express representation or warranty into the contract.[25] The seller will likely argue that the buyer would not leave a representation on which it was truly relying outside of the contract, especially where the buyer had reason to believe that the representation might not be accurate.[26] If the buyer really were relying on the information—and not just trying to “trick” the seller—the buyer would have negotiated a contractual representation and warranty; it would not have risked the enforcement of the representation by relying solely on a broad pro-sandbagging clause.

B. The Buyer’s Argument

The buyer, on the other hand, will argue that its knowledge is not relevant to its fraud claim because of the broad pro-sandbagging clause. Indeed, the buyer may argue that the pro-sandbagging provision is exactly why it relied on the seller’s representations. In other words, notwithstanding the information it uncovered during due diligence, the buyer believed it could reasonably rely on the seller’s representations precisely because it had a broad pro-sandbagging provision in the acquisition agreement to protect it.

One case that the buyer may cite in support of its argument is Cobalt Operating, LLC v. James Crystal Enters.[27] In Cobalt, the buyer brought fraud and breach of contract claims against the seller for providing false financial information. The seller argued that the buyer could not prove that the buyer reasonably relied upon the false representations because the buyer’s due diligence uncovered the same information. The Cobalt court rejected the seller’s argument and held that the buyer satisfied its burden to show justifiable reliance for a fraud claim, in part, based on certain contractual provisions (including a pro-sandbagging clause) that promised the buyer could rely on the seller’s representations.[28]

First, the court held that the buyer could rely on the seller’s representations to support its fraud claim because the acquisition agreement contained an express and unqualified representation regarding the material accuracy of the acquisition company’s financial statements and its compliance with the law.[29] The court held that this contractual representation also supported the buyer’s justifiable reliance for its fraud claim.[30]

Second, Cobalt cited the contract’s pro-sandbagging provision, which stated, “no inspection or investigation made by or on behalf of [buyer] or [buyer’s] failure to make any inspection or investigation shall affect [the seller’s] representations, warranties, and covenants hereunder or be deemed to constitute a waiver of any of those representations, warranties, or covenants.”[31] Although, this pro-sandbagging provision covered only representations within the acquisition agreement, the court held that “[h]aving contractually promised [the buyer] that it could rely on certain representations, [the seller] is in no position to content that [the buyer] was unreasonable in relying on [the seller’s] own biding words.”[32]

Although the court did not explicitly address the effect of the pro-sandbagging clause on the buyer’s fraud claim, a buyer will likely cite Cobalt as holding that a contractual provision (i.e., the representation regarding material accuracy of the financial statement) can support the reasonable reliance element of a fraud claim. A buyer will similarly argue that it reasonably relied on the contractual pro-sandbagging provision when it accepted the seller’s extracontractual statements.[33]

In addition to Cobalt, a buyer may point to California law and the “traditional” common law rule as evidence that a broad pro-sandbagging provision can negate the “reasonable reliance” element of a fraud claim. As discussed above, a buyer cannot under California common law bring a claim for breach of an express warranty if the buyer had knowledge that the representation was false.[34] The buyer must show that it reasonably relied on the representation (even an express representation in contract).[35] In this way, an indemnification claim in California is the same as a fraud claim in other states; the buyer must prove reliance as an element of both claims.

Notwithstanding this general rule, California courts have held that a contractually negotiated pro-sandbagging provision can override the “reasonable reliance” element for an indemnification claim. In Telephia, Inc. v. Cuppy, the court cited the language of two pro-sandbagging provisions in an asset purchase agreement. [36] One of these provisions stated: “[n]o investigation made by or on behalf of the [buyer] with respect to the [acquisition company or its shareholders] shall be deemed to affect the [buyer’s] reliance on the representations, warranties, covenants, and agreements made by [the acquisition company].”[37] Telephia held that this provision was clear; the seller must be held accountable to the warranties in the acquisition agreement regardless of the buyer’s reliance on those warranties.[38] Based on Telephia, a buyer might argue that a similar pro-sandbagging provision also could override the “reasonable reliance” element for a fraud claim, just like it overrode California’s reliance requirement for an indemnification claim.

IV. Conclusion

As discussed herein, there are arguments on both the buyer’s and seller’s sides regarding whether a broad pro-sandbagging provision can be applied to avoid the “reasonable reliance” element of a fraud claim. Thus, to the extent that a buyer insists on negotiating a pro-sandbagging provision in an acquisition agreement, the seller should seek to draft the provision as narrowly as possible. To avoid these issues, a seller should include explicit language (i) limiting the pro-sandbagging clause solely to indemnification provisions and contractual representations and warranties, and (ii) excluding its application to any fraud claims and/or extracontractual representations.


[1] See Aleksandra Miziolek & Dimitrios Angelakos, SANDBAGGING, From Poker to the World of Mergers and Acquisitions, 92 Mich. B.J. 30 (June 2013).

[2] See id. (“A pro-sandbagging provision renders a buyer’s pre-closing knowledge of a breach of a seller’s warranty . . . irrelevant to its claims for indemnification for such breach.”).

[3] Other examples of such provisions include:

[N]o inspection or investigation made by or on behalf of [Buyer] or [Buyer’s] failure to make any inspection or investigation shall affect [Seller’s] representations, warranties, and covenants hereunder or be deemed to constitute a waiver of any of those representations, warranties, or covenants.

Cobalt Operating, LLC v. James Crystal Enters., 2007 WL 2142926, at *28 (Del. Ch. April 25, 2007) (citing section 9.2 of the relevant asset purchase agreement);

No information or knowledge obtained in any investigation . . . shall affect or be deemed to modify any representation or warranty contained in this Agreement. . . .

Telephia, Inc. v. Cuppy, 411 F. Supp. 2d 1178, 1188 (N.D. Ca. 2006) (citing section 6.1 of the relevant stock purchase agreement);

No investigation made by or on behalf of the [Buyer] with respect to the [Acquisition Company or its Shareholders] shall be deemed to affect the [Buyer’s] reliance on the representations, warranties, covenants, and agreements made by [the Acquisition Company].

Id. (citing section 10.1 of the relevant stock purchase agreement); and

Every . . . warranty . . . set forth in this Agreement and . . . the rights and remedies . . . for any one or more breaches of this Agreement by Sellers shall . . . not be deemed waived by the Closing and shall be effective regardless of any . . . prior knowledge by or on the part of the Purchaser.

Pegasus Mgmt. Co. v. Lyssa, Inc., 995 F. Supp. 29, 38 (D. Ma. 1998) (citing Section 9.1 of the relevant asset purchase agreement).

[4] See Miziolek & Angelakos, supra note 1, at 30 (“under certain circumstances, a buyer who has knowledge of the inaccuracy of a seller’s warranty may decide that it is more advantageous to sandbag the seller and try to recover on a breach of warranty claim after the closing of the transaction.”); Glenn D. West & Kim M. Shah, Debunking the Myth of the Sandbagging Buyer: When Sellers Ask Buyers to Agree to Anti-Sandbagging Clauses, Who Is Sandbagging Whom?, 11 The M&A Law. 3 (Jan. 2007) (“Rather than being forced to choose between negotiating a price concession or terminating or attempting to terminate the deal . . .the buyer may simply wish to enforce the benefit of the bargain it made by choosing to close the transaction and seek indemnification based upon the specific, contractual representations and warranties it negotiated with the sellers.”); see also Luke P. Iovine III, Sandbagging in M&A Deals: Silence May Not Be Golden, 16 The M&A Law. 10 (Nov/Dec 2012); Charles K. Whitehead, Sandbagging: Default Rules and Acquisition Agreements, 36 Del. J. Corp. L. 1081, 1082–83 (2011).

[5] Even the ABA’s model pro-sandbagging provision could be interpreted to include (i) fraud claims and (ii) extra-contractual representations, and may not be limited solely to contractual indemnification claims. The ABA’s model provision provides:

The right to indemnification, payment, reimbursement, or other remedy based upon any such representation, warranty, covenant, or obligation will not be affected by any investigation (including any environmental investigation or assessment) conducted or any Knowledge acquired at any time, whether before or after the execution and delivery of this Agreement or the Closing Date, with respect to the accuracy or inaccuracy of, or compliance with, such representation, warranty, covenant, or obligation.

See Whitehead, supra note 4, at 1087, n.19 (citing ABA Mergers & Acquisitions Comm., Model Stock Purchase Agreement with Commentary 299 (2d ed. 2010) (emphasis added); see also Miziolek & Angelakos, supra note 1, at 30 (citing same).

[6] West & Shah, supra note 4, at 3.

[7] See, e.g., Abry Partners V, L.P. v. F&W Acquisition LLC, 891 A.2d 1032, 1064 (Ch. Del. 2006) (holding that exclusive remedy and limitation-on-liability provisions in a stock purchase agreement could not limit the seller’s exposure for claims of fraud under Delaware public policy).

[8] Id.

[9] See, e.g., id. at 1059 (holding that in order to bar a fraud claim for extra-contractual statement, an integration clause must contain language that shows a clear anti-reliance clause by which the plaintiff has contractually promised that it did not rely upon statements outside of the contract’s four corners in deciding to sign the contract); IAC Search, LLC v. Conversant LLC, 2016 WL 6995363, at *6 (Del. Ch. Nov. 30, 2016) (holding that there are no magic words to disclaim reliance, but that an anti-reliance clause must come from the point of view of the buyer asserting fraud and cannot be simply an assentation by the seller of what it was and was not representing and warranting); West & Shah, supra note 4, at 3–4.

[10] See, e.g., Charles K. Whitehead, Sandbagging: Default Rules and Acquisition Agreements, 36 Del. J. Corp. L. 1081, 1084–85, Appendix A, 1108–14 (2011); Brandon Cole, 42 J. Corp. L. 445, 448–49.

[11] See CBS, Inc. v. Ziff-Davis Publ’g Co., 553 N.E.2d 997, 1000–01 (N.Y. 1990) (“The critical question is not whether the buyer believed the truth of the warranted information . . . but whether it believed it was purchasing the seller’s promise as to the truth.”).

[12] Id. at 1001 (“the fact that the buyer has questioned the seller’s ability to perform as promised should not relieve the seller of his obligations under the express warranties when he thereafter undertakes to render the promised performance.”).

[13] See Universal Enterprise Group, L.P. et al. v. Duncan Petroleum Corp. et al., 2013 WL 3353743, at *15 (Del. Ch. July 1, 2013) (noting that after the buyer discovered evidence that caused it to question some of the seller’s representations, the buyer renegotiated the acquisition agreement to expressly allocate the risk to the seller).

[14] See Whitehead, supra note 10, at 1108–14, Appendix A, 1108–14; Cole, supra note 10, at 449.

[15] See Whitehead, supra note 10, at 1084, Appendix A, 1114–15.

[16] Id.

[17] Id.

[18] See, e.g., 37 Am. Jur. 2d Fraud & Deceit § 231 (2d ed. Nov. 2017); Law of Fraudulent Transactions § 2:3 (Aug. 2017).

[19] 37 Am. Jur. 2d Fraud & Deceit § 231.

[20] Id.

[21] The strength of the seller’s defense also may turn on what information the buyer allegedly discovered during due diligence and exactly how it relates to the alleged fraudulent representation. See Ainger v. Michigan Gen. Corp., 476 F. Supp. 1209, 1229 (S.D.N.Y. 1979) (holding that the buyer could bring a fraud claim against the seller, even though the buyer was informed prior to closing that the acquisition company did not did not have a contract vesting it with ownership in a book series, because the seller actively prevented the buyer from discovering that the author had affirmatively asserted a claim to book series).

[22] See Universal Enterprise Group, 2013 WL 3353743, at *15 (dismissing a buyer’s fraud claim because the buyer discovered evidence during due diligence that called into question the allegedly fraudulent representation); see also 37 Am. Jur. 2d Fraud & Deceit § 231 (“Reliance cannot be deemed reasonable for purposes of a claim for fraud . . . when minimal investigation would have revealed the truth, or when the plaintiff closes its eyes and passively accepts the contradictions that exist in the information available to it.”).

[23] Id. at 14 (“a party who gains actual knowledge of the falsity of a representation, structures a contract to address the risk of loss associated with the false representation, and proceeds to closing cannot claim justifiable reliance.”); see also 37 Am. Jur. 2d Fraud & Deceit § 231 (“In some jurisdictions, if a fraud plaintiff even has reasons to doubt the truth of a representation, reliance is not reasonable.”).

[24] See Doral Money, Inc. v. HNC Prop., LLC, 2014 WL 5791574, at *7 (D. Or. Nov. 6, 2014) (holding that the buyer failed to prove the “right-to-rely” element of a fraud counterclaim because the buyer “cannot fail to conduct due diligence before entering into an arm’s-length business transaction and then bring a claim for fraud against the other party to the transaction for allegedly misrepresenting facts that the sophisticated business could and should have discovered on its own.”); MAFG Art Fund, LLC v. Gagosian, 123 A.D.3d 458, 459 (N.Y. App. Div. 2014) (holding that, as a matter of law, a sophisticated buyer cannot demonstrate reasonable reliance when they conduct no due diligence); see also 37 Am. Jur. 2d Fraud & Deceit § 231 (“Reliance cannot be deemed reasonable for purposes of a claim for fraud . . . when minimal investigation would have revealed the truth . . . .”).

[25] See Universal Enterprise Group, 2013 WL 3353743, at *15 (recognizing that the buyer treated the seller’s alleged fraudulent representation with “healthy skepticism” and went forward with the acquisition only after renegotiating the contract to expressly allocate the risk to the seller that the representation was false).

[26] For contractual representations and warranties, the seller may argue that a fraud claim cannot be based entirely on a breach of the terms of a contract. In re Bracket Holding Corp. Lit., 2017 WL 3283169, at *8 (Del. Super. Ct. July 31, 2017) (“Under Delaware law, a plaintiff may claim fraud ‘based on representations found in a contract,’ but ‘where an action is based entirely on a breach of the terms of a contract between the parties, and not on a violation of an independent duty imposed by law, a plaintiff must sue in contract and not in tort.’” (quoting ITW Glob. Invs. Inc. v. Am. Indus. P’rs Capital Fund IV, L.P., 2015 WL 390908, at *6 (Del. Super. Ct. June 24, 2015).).

[27] 2007 WL 2142926, at *27.

[28] Id. at 27–28.

[29] Id. at 27.

[30] Id. The court distinguished Homan v. Turoczy, 2005 WL 2000756 (Del. Ch. 2005), which held that a buyer could not establish justifiable reliance necessary to recover for fraud or equitable fraud where the buyer proceeded to closing in a commercially unreasonable manner, failed to conduct any meaningful due diligence, and signed an express anti-reliance clause stating that he was not relying on the statements that he later claimed to be false.

[31] Id. at 28.

[32] Id.

[33] The seller may argue that Cobalt is distinguishable because the allegedly fraudulent representation was an express and unqualified representation within the acquisition agreement (i.e., the representation regarding the material accuracy of the acquisition company’s financial statements and its compliance with the law) and not an extracontractual statement.

[34] See, e.g., Kazerouni v. De Satnick, 228 Cal. App. 871, 872–73 (Cal. App. 1991).

[35] Id.

[36] See Telephia, Inc. v. Cuppy, 411 F. Supp. 2d at 1188 (holding that the buyer was not required to prove reliance on written warranties based on the pro-sandbagging provision in the parties’ acquisition agreement).

[37] Id. (citing section 10.2 of the stock purchase agreement).

[38] Id. (“Although the defendants argue that it would be ‘condoning a fraud’ to allow [the buyer] to enforce warranties that it knew to be false, the Court finds it no stranger a result than to interpret the [acquisition agreement] in a manner that results in [the buyer] having insisted on a toothless provision.”)

SCOTUS Issues Landmark Decision on Cell Phone Location Information with Major Implications for Fourth Amendment Privacy

On Friday, June 22, 2018, the Supreme Court issued its much-anticipated opinion in Carpenter v. United States, 585 US. __ (2018), and declared a Fourth Amendment privacy right for cell phone location data. Seeing how “seismic shifts” in technology have altered our conceptions of privacy, the court revised its long-held “reasonable expectation of privacy” test and ruled that police obtaining cell site location information (CLSI) records from a person’s cell phone service provider constitutes a Fourth Amendment “search” requiring a warrant.

The case involved a string of nine robberies in Michigan and Ohio. One man arrested early on for several of these robberies confessed to the crime spree and identified a number of accomplices, giving the police their cell phone numbers. The police then obtained court orders under section 2703(d) of the Stored Communications Act (SCA) to require their cell phone service providers to share historical CLSI records for these cell phones from the four-month period of the robberies. (Section 2703(d) enables the government to seek a court order requiring disclosure of certain “noncontent” business records from an electronic communications service provider upon presenting “specific and articulable facts showing that there are reasonable grounds to believe that . . . the records or other information sought[] are relevant and material to an ongoing criminal investigation.” 18 U.S.C. § 2703(d).) In general, cell phone service providers maintain a vast network of towers with sensors mounted on top (usually three sensors forming a triangle) that send and receive radio signals to and from people’s cell phones when they make or receive calls, text messages, or otherwise transmit data over the cellular network. The providers maintain a record of which tower and sensor—or “cell site”—was used whenever a cell phone makes or receives a call or text message. By analyzing such business records, the police can infer the approximate location of the cell phone at the time of the call or text message. In the Carpenter case, the historical CLSI records obtained by the police indicated that Carpenter’s cell phone was near four of the charged robberies when they were committed. He was convicted of multiple robbery charges following a trial and then appealed.

Writing for the court, Chief Justice Roberts reasoned that CSLI records do not “fit neatly under existing precedents” and instead lie at the “intersection of two lines of cases” about the scope of a person’s reasonable expectation of privacy protected by the Fourth Amendment. Id. at *7. On one hand, there is the third-party doctrine established by Smith v. Maryland, 442 U.S. 735 (1979) (no reasonable expectation of privacy in records of dialed telephone numbers held by a telephone company) and United States v. Miller, 425 U.S. 435 (1976) (no reasonable expectation of privacy in financial records held by a bank). Under that doctrine, “‘a person has no legitimate expectation of privacy in information he voluntarily turns over to third parties,’” id. at *9 (quoting Smith, 442 U.S. at 743–44), and “[t]hat remains true ‘even if the information is revealed on the assumption that it will be used only for a limited purpose,’” id. (quoting Miller, 425 U.S. at 443).

On the other hand, there are the court’s cases about police use of “sophisticated technology” to track the location and movements of a vehicle, including United States v. Knotts, 460 U.S. 276 (1983) (use of a beeper hidden inside a barrel of chemicals sold to the suspect to help police conduct aerial surveillance of his vehicle) and United States v. Jones, 565 U.S. 400 (2012) (covert installation of a GPS tracking device on a suspect’s vehicle that enabled police to remotely monitor its movements for 28 days). These decisions address what Chief Justice Roberts called “a person’s expectation of privacy in his physical location and movements.” Carpenter at *7. Although finding no Fourth Amendment violation in Knotts because generally a vehicle’s public movements implicate no privacy interest, the court specifically reserved the question of whether “different constitutional principles may be applicable” if “twenty-four hour surveillance of any citizen of this country [were] possible.” Knotts, 406 U.S. at 283–84. More recently, although the Fourth Amendment violation found by the Jones decision was premised on the act of trespass when police installed the GPS tracking device, five concurring Justices concluded agreed that “‘longer term GPS monitoring in investigations of most offenses impinges on expectations of privacy’—regardless whether those movements were disclosed to the public at large.” Carpenter at *8 (quoting Jones, 565 U.S. at 430 (Alito, J., concurring); Jones, 656 at 415 (Sotomayor, J., concurring)).

In the face of these two competing lines of cases, the court elected to continue down the path indicated by the Jones concurring opinions, declaring, “[w]hether the Government employs its own surveillance technology as in Jones or leverages the technology of a wireless carrier, we hold that an individual maintains a legitimate expectation of privacy in the record of his physical movements as captured through CSLI.” Carpenter at *11. The court noted that after the Jones decision, five Justices had “already recognized that individuals have a reasonable expectation of privacy in the whole of their physical movements.” Id. at *12. In the Carpenter decision, the court simply adopted their reasoning about long-term GPS monitoring—namely, that such precise and lengthy location monitoring contravenes society’s expectations about the degree of physical surveillance to be expected from law enforcement, and that such comprehensive location records can uncover a person’s most private affairs. “As with GPS information,” the court explained, “the time-stamped [CSLI] data provides an intimate window into a person’s life, revealing not only his particular movements, but through them his ‘familial, political, professional, religious, and sexual associations.’” Id. at *12 (quoting Jones, 565 U.S. at 415 (Sotomayor, J., concurring)).

Finally, Carpenter distinguished the third-party doctrine from Smith and Miller by emphasizing “the deeply revealing nature of CSLI, its depth, breadth, and comprehensive reach, and the inescapable and automatic nature of its collection.” Id. at *22. On this last point, the court reasoned that CSLI records “[are] not truly ‘shared’ as one normally understands the term” because they are generated “by dint of [the cell phone’s] operation, without any affirmative act on the part of the user beyond powering up,” and now “cell phones and the services they provide are ‘such a pervasive and insistent part of daily life’ that carrying one is indispensable to participation in modern society.” Id. at *17 (quoting Riley v. California, 134 S. Ct. 2473, 2484 (2014)). The court added: “After all, when Smith was decided in 1979, few could have imagined a society in which a phone goes wherever its owner goes, conveying to the wireless carrier not just dialed digits, but a detailed and comprehensive record of the person’s movements.” Id. at *11.

Chief Justice Roberts’s majority opinion claims that “[o]ur decision today is a narrow one” relating only to historical CSLI records. Id. at *17. However, the implications of this decision are manifold and far-reaching. Whereas previously this line of cases consisted of Knotts dicta and Jones concurring opinions, now the court has firmly declared that “individuals have a reasonable expectation of privacy in the whole of their physical movements” that will be protected from police intrusion by the Fourth Amendment. Id. at *12. In addition, whereas the Jones concurrence focused on “longer term GPS monitoring,” the Carpenter decision provided no clear guidance on the duration of the time period of cell phone location data that is protected by this Fourth Amendment right. What is more, the court applied its ruling to historical CSLI records that had been originally collected and maintained by a private company for its own commercial purposes. Before now, private surveillance or data collection (even unlawful wiretapping) that had not been conducted at the government’s behest was considered to be beyond the scope of the Fourth Amendment, which applies only to government searches and seizures. See United States v. Jacobsen, 466 U.S. 109, 113–14 (1984). Thus, Carpenter disrupted more than just the third-party doctrine of Smith and Miller.

Ultimately, Carpenter may have even greater implications for Fourth Amendment jurisprudence. In the seminal decision of Katz v. United States, 389 U.S. 347 (1967), the court overruled earlier case law that limited Fourth Amendment protection to police trespassing upon one’s property, and declared that the Fourth Amendment also protects a person’s reasonable expectation of privacy. In what became settled law, this “expectation of privacy” test required “that a person has exhibited an actual (subjective) expectation of privacy . . . that society is prepared to recognize as ‘reasonable.’” Id. at 361 (Harlan, J., concurring). At a basic level, this involved “draw[ing] a line between what a person keeps to himself and what he shares with others.” Carpenter at *9. Although the Carpenter court invoked the Katz test like always, its decision actually moved away from this classic analysis and embarked upon a different approach to the scope of the Fourth Amendment. Under Carpenter, the test is not “reasonable expectation of privacy” as such, but instead “reasonable expectation of privacy from the Government.” The touchstone is not protecting “what [one] seeks to preserve as private,” Katz, 389 U.S. at 351, but instead “‘plac[ing] obstacles in the way of a too permeating police surveillance.’” Carpenter at *6 (quoting United States v. Di Re, 332 U.S. 581, 595 (1948).1 Curiously, when examining the expected privacy of CSLI records, the Carpenter Court did not address Section 2702(c)(6).).

Another key feature of Carpenter is how the court grapples with the technological and social changes of modern society. As observed in Justice Kennedy’s dissenting opinion, “[cell phone service] providers contract with their customers to collect and keep these [CSLI] records because they are valuable to the providers . . . [who] aggregate the records and sell them to third parties along with other information gleaned from cell phone usage.” Id. at *5 (Kennedy, J., dissenting). Likewise, customers routinely agree to share with private companies their GPS location data, web browsing habits, social networking communications, and all manner of sensitive personal data when using online services and connected devices. In such a world where personal information has become a proliferating commodity that is widely shared and utilized in the digital economy, the classic “reasonable expectation of privacy” test requiring actual privacy would, in the end, chip away at the Fourth Amendment as a bulwark against unfettered police surveillance. In this context, the Carpenter decision makes sense and may represent the future of the Fourth Amendment.


  1. Notably, Congress had already drawn a similar line in the SCA, 18 U.S.C. §§ 2701 et seq., which was part of the Electronic Communications Privacy Act of 1986 responding to the Smith decision. Section 2702(c)(6) expressly authorizes cell phone and other electronic communication service providers to disclose non-content business records such as CSLI “to any person other than a governmental entity,” who alone must obtain court authorization under Section 2703. 18 U.S.C. § 2702(c)(6). 

The Demand Review Committee: How It Works, and How It Could Work Better

Stockholders must ordinarily make a demand on their board of directors before initiating litigation on the corporation’s behalf. But the litigation consequences of a stockholder demand—a binding concession of the board’s ability to impartially consider a demand—are so harsh in the ensuing litigation that stockholders rarely choose that path. The demand requirement is thus falling short of its promise as an internal dispute resolution mechanism. If, as we suggest, stockholders typically avoid making a demand and instead prefer to initiate litigation and raise demand futility arguments, no matter how weak, they deprive independent boards of the opportunity to consider the merits of potential litigation outside the court-room. We propose a private-ordering solution, in which stockholders and boards can agree, if they choose, to reserve rights on demand futility arguments while a demand review process is undertaken. This would allow boards to engage with stockholders in the review process, and would replace some demand futility litigation with boardroom deliberation, thereby restoring the internal dispute resolution function to the demand requirement.

I. INTRODUCTION

Stockholder derivative litigation follows a familiar path. The plaintiff files a complaint, alleging that demand is futile. The defendants move to dismiss under Court of Chancery Rule 23.1,1 arguing that the plaintiff failed to make a demand on the board of directors to bring the suit on behalf of the corporation. The motion is usually coupled with a motion to dismiss under Rule 12(b)(6)2 for failure to state a claim. If the Court of Chancery grants the motion to dismiss on either ground, the matter ends. If the Court of Chancery denies the motion, then the parties litigate or propose a settlement of the case, unless and until the corporation forms a special litigation committee to regain control from the plaintiff.3

What happens, though, if instead of pleading demand futility, the plaintiff actually makes a litigation demand? This path appears to be traveled less frequently, and appears to be less well understood by practitioners and directors alike. Accordingly, this article highlights the review process undertaken by a committee that is formed to consider a demand. It also highlights the differences between demand review committee practice and special litigation committee practice. Finally, it proposes a modest adjustment to our law that would restore some of the functionality of the demand requirement, which has eroded over time.

II. BACKGROUND OF THE DEMAND REQUIREMENT

The board of directors has the statutory authority to manage “[t]he business and affairs” of a corporation,4 including its legal claims.5 As a corollary, the board also has the fiduciary responsibility to manage the corporation’s legal claims with care and loyalty to the corporation and its stockholders.6

The demand requirement balances the board’s statutory authority and its accountability to the corporation and its stockholders.7 It requires a stockholder who seeks to litigate derivatively on the corporation’s behalf to first demand that the board pursue the claim, unless she can plead particularized facts tending to show that demand would be futile. A derivative action is thus effectively two suits in one, with the question of demand futility at its fulcrum: “First, it is the equivalent of a suit by the shareholders to compel the corporation to sue. Second, it is a suit by the corporation, asserted by the shareholders on its behalf, against those liable to it.”8

Demand is futile if a majority of the board is interested in the underlying claim, lacks independence, or faces a substantial risk of personal liability, including because there is a reasonable doubt about whether the challenged transaction was a valid exercise of business judgment.9 For purposes of considering a litigation demand, a director is interested if she has a material interest in the subject matter of the demand that is not shared by the corporation or its stockholders.10 A director lacks independence if she is beholden to a person or entity that is interested in the subject matter of the demand.11 A director who faces a substantial risk of personal liability in the underlying claims is deemed interested in the outcome of the investigation.12

The demand requirement thus permits a corporation to dismiss a derivative action “if its board is comprised of directors who can impartially consider a demand.”13

III. THE DEMAND REVIEW COMMITTEE

If a stockholder plaintiff makes a litigation demand, the stockholder cedes control of the corporation’s claim to the board of directors.14 The board determines “the best method to inform itself of the facts relating to the alleged wrong-doing and ‘the considerations, both legal and financial, bearing on a response to the demand.’”15 In some circumstances, depending on the substance of the demand, the full board will act on the demand without the need for investigation. But if the demand warrants an investigation, the board often forms an ad hoc “demand review committee” to investigate the subject matter of the demand and make recommendations to the full board about how to respond.

A. COMMITTEE FORMATION, AUTHORIZATIONAND MEMBERSHIP

By making a demand on the board, the would-be stockholder plaintiff concedes that a majority of the board is capable of impartially considering the demand.16 Yet, the disinterestedness and independence of the members of the board remain critical concerns in committee formation, even after a demand has been made:

Simply because the composition of the board provides no basis ex ante for the stockholder to claim with particularity and consistently with Rule 11 that it is reasonable to doubt that a majority of the board is either interested or not independent, it does not necessarily follow ex post that the board in fact acted independently, disinterestedly or with due care in response to the demand. A board or a committee of the board may appear to be independent, but may not always act independently.17

And, although a stockholder plaintiff concedes the independence of a majority of the board by making a demand, the demand typically does not identify a subset of particular board members to whom the demand is directed.18 Consider, for example, a five-member board, two of whom are fiduciaries of the corporation’s controlling stockholder and the other three of whom are outside independent directors. A stockholder plaintiff might demand that the board investigate claims against the controlling stockholder, thus conceding that a majority of the board—three of five—is capable of impartially considering the demand. But if the board chooses to form a three-member committee and includes the two dual fiduciaries, it will not fare well.19 As a result, when considering whether to form a demand review committee, a board should identify a subset of directors whose independence, disinterestedness, and impartiality are as unassailable as possible given the underlying allegations and the composition of the board.20

In addition to vetting board members for their independence and disinterestedness, demand review committee members also must prepare, with the assistance of independent counsel and other advisors as necessary, to do the work required to investigate properly the matters at issue in a demand. This has a practical dimension, in that demand review committee investigations can take many months.21 But it also has a legal element; although the effort expended by the committee should be proportional to the issues at stake in the demand, the vigor with which a demand review committee investigates its subject matter from the outset helps to establish the committee’s independence-in-fact.22

So too does an appropriate committee charter. The charter of a board committee is an important document that delineates the committee’s objective and its authority.23 For a committee process to be successful, the committee’s charter must provide it contextually sufficient authority to fulfill its mandate; a committee that is not given sufficient authority may never overcome that obstacle.24

In its charter, a demand review committee should be given all of the power and resources it needs to conduct a proportionately thorough, independent investigation into the facts and circumstances giving rise to the demand.25 Because a stockholder who made a demand has already conceded that a majority of the full board can impartially consider the demand, the demand review committee need only make recommendations to the full board on how to respond to the demand.26 It need not be granted the full power and authority of the board to act on behalf of the corporation. Doing so may give rise to a “counter-concession” that the non-committee members of the board are incapable of faithfully considering the demand, even upon recommendation from the demand review committee.27

To avoid any implications or inferences that could be drawn by committee membership, the demand review committee charter should identify the members of the committee, the rationale for their inclusion, and the rationale for the exclusion of others.28 A demand review committee charter should also permit the committee to hire its own advisors, paid for by the company, and should grant the committee access to management and company resources as needed.29

B. COMMITTEE INVESTIGATION

Once a demand review committee investigation is successfully launched, with independent and disinterested committee members, independent advisors,30 and all of the resources it needs, it has wide latitude to chart its own course, and should follow wherever the facts lead. “In any investigation, the choice of people to interview or documents to review is one on which reasonable minds may differ. . . . . Inevitably, there will be potential witnesses, documents and other leads that the investigator will decide not to pursue.”31 As with a merger,32 in the demand review context “there is obviously no prescribed procedure that a board must follow.”33

But if the committee, advised by its own counsel, makes its own decisions about the scope of its investigation, those decisions are given great weight so long as they are well documented and not grossly negligent. Courts have found investigations adequate when the committee chose to interview as few as two34 and as many as “more than 25”35 witnesses. And, courts have rejected arguments that an investigation was deficient for not interviewing certain witnesses, without particularized facts showing that those witnesses had unique knowledge that could have changed the outcome.36

Despite the leeway they are given, demand review committees should consider engaging with the demanding stockholder during the investigation to address in advance any perceived deficiencies.37 They should give serious consideration to interviewing witnesses specifically identified by the demanding stockholder as being witnesses who would corroborate the underlying claims.38 At a minimum, demand review committees should ensure they do not overlook any of the facts and circumstances specifically referenced in the demand.39

C. COMMITTEE RECOMMENDATIONS AND JUDICIAL REVIEW

Following its investigation, a demand review committee has broad discretion about how to develop and present its recommendation to the full board. The committee can, and should, think like a plaintiff and assess the expected value of the corporation’s litigation assets, taking into account the merits of any claims and defenses, damages, and the collectability of any judgment.

It may also make non-litigation recommendations, “including the advisability of implementing internal corrective action.”40 This remedial flexibility is part of the flexibility of the demand requirement and committee process. Even assuming that a stockholder plaintiff’s lawyer has the corporation’s best interests in mind, she has available only the blunt instrument of litigation. Directors may pursue less costly, more effective remedies, such as changing corporate policies and practices, making personnel decisions, and revising corporate documents.

The committee’s recommendation should be followed by the board, absent highly unusual circumstances. A board that does not follow the recommendation of a demand review committee acts at its own peril.41

Whatever its decision, the board should then communicate its decision to the stockholder plaintiff, along with the bases for its decision.42 If the plaintiff seeks books and records pursuant to section 220 of the Delaware General Corporation Law43 in support of a claim that the demand was wrongfully refused, the defendants should expect to produce (1) minutes of any meeting of the board or demand review committee where the demand was discussed; (2) reports and presentations by the demand review committee in support of its recommendation; and (3) other materials that formed the basis for the committee’s recommendation.44 As a result, the committee and its advisors should proceed with its investigation and recommendation on the assumption that at least those basic materials will be discoverable.

The plaintiff pleading wrongful refusal faces a high burden. To survive a motion to dismiss, a plaintiff must plead “particularized facts . . . supporting an inference that the committee, despite being comprised solely of independent directors, breached its duty of loyalty, or breached its duty of care, in the sense of having committed gross negligence.”45 In addition to disputing the substance of the committee’s investigative determinations regarding the merits, the plaintiff must also contend with the board’s business judgments about the cost and distraction of litigation and the effects litigation could have on the company’s business and operations.46

Not surprisingly, it appears that the plaintiffs in only two published Delaware decisions have survived motions to dismiss, and both involved egregious and unusual fact patterns.47 In Thorpe, a committee investigated the matters at issue in the demand and made recommendations to the board. But the board took no action in response to the demand and did not disclose the substance of the committee’s recommendations. The members of the committee promptly resigned.48 And in Seaford Funding Limited Partnership v. M&M Associates II, L.P., the interested general partner of a limited partnership took no action in response to a demand that it investigate claims relating to a debt owed to the partnership by another affiliate of the general partner.49

D. DEMAND REVIEW COMMITTEE PRACTICE COMPARED WITH SPECIAL LITIGATION COMMITTEE PRACTICE

As highlighted above, there are many surface-level similarities between the way that a demand review committee functions and that of a special litigation committee formed under Zapata50 and its progeny. There are important differences, however, between the structure and function of those two kinds of committees, most owing to their origin and the corporate power dynamics at stake.51

As its name implies, a demand review committee is formed in response to a stockholder demand. And, as discussed above, a stockholder who makes a demand has effectively conceded that demand is not excused.52 In the parlance of the dual-natured derivative suit, a stockholder who makes a demand has conceded phase one—the “suit by the shareholders to compel the corporation to sue.”53 The stockholder thus lacks the power to assert the corporation’s claim, and demands that the board do so instead.

A special litigation committee, by contrast, typically comes into existence only after a stockholder has established demand futility, whether by judicial decision or by the defendants’ concession. Accordingly, a special litigation committee operates to wrest control of the litigation away from a stockholder plaintiff who had assumed “the legal managerial power to maintain a derivative action to enforce the corporation’s claim.”54 The statutory power to do so is retained by the board under sections 141(a) and 141(c) of the Delaware General Corporation Law, notwithstanding that the board is “tainted by the self-interest of a majority of its members.”55 The power vests, however, only in a special litigation committee whose members are independent and disinterested, and which conducts a reasonable investigation in good faith.56

As a result, the independence and disinterestedness inquiries that are important for a demand review committee are vital to a special litigation committee. The independence and disinterestedness of the members of a special litigation committee are the committee’s font of corporate power. And because the board’s power is vested in the special litigation committee, its charter should reflect that power, and should authorize the committee to ultimately decide, on the corporation’s behalf, how to proceed with respect to the claims without interference from other board members. It should not merely make a recommendation.57

The skepticism about the potential structural bias in the special litigation committee context also recommends a higher standard of judicial review than the business judgment rule deference that is given to a demand review committee process and recommendation.58 The Zapata court was “mindful” that in the special litigation committee context, “directors are passing judgment on fellow directors in the same corporation,” which raises the potential for “perhaps subconscious abuse.”59 As a result, the court crafted a two-step standard of judicial review. A special litigation committee seeking to terminate derivative litigation must establish (1) the independence, good faith, and reasonableness of its investigation; and also (2) that the termination or course of action is in the corporation’s best interests, in the business judgment of the Court of Chancery.60 This standard is far more rigorous than the business judgment rule standard applicable to demand review committees. It has also been shown empirically to deter special litigation committees from being used as a tool for dismissing meritorious cases.61

IV. THE DEMAND REQUIREMENTS INTERNAL DISPUTE RESOLUTION PROBLEM AND THE AIG SOLUTION

An aggrieved stockholder who believes that the corporation is sitting on a valuable claim faces a stark choice between making a demand and attempting to plead demand futility. In theory, the interests of a stockholder plaintiff and those of a disinterested, independent board majority should merge. Both should be seeking to maximize the same long-term interests of the corporation, with the directors best suited to deploy the corporation’s assets, including its legal claims, to achieve those goals. Accordingly, in the ideal world of stockholder litigation, a stockholder should be confident of a good outcome for the corporation when she entrusts independent directors with a valuable corporate asset by making a demand, even at the cost of conceding demand futility.

But in practice, much of stockholder litigation is lawyer-driven.62 And in many cases, from the perspective of a plaintiff’s lawyer seeking control of a lucrative fee opportunity, making a demand is less appealing than taking a shot at pleading demand futility. The aggregate result is that the demand requirement is underused and falls short of its promise as a tool for promoting internal dispute resolution.63

In Starr International Co. v. United States,64 a recent case that arose from the U.S. government bailout of AIG during the 2008 financial crisis, the AIG board crafted an innovative demand procedure that, if deployed in an appropriate case, could help fulfill the internal dispute resolution function of the demand requirement.65 The plaintiff, Starr International Company, asserted derivative claims on AIG’s behalf against the federal government, challenging transactions by which the government extended up to $85 billion of credit to AIG to stave off a liquidity crisis.66 Starr alleged in its complaint that demand on AIG’s board would be futile, but “Starr and AIG entered into an agreement in which Starr agreed to make a demand on the AIG Board with respect to all derivative claims.”67 Critically, notwithstanding the default rule that under Delaware law a stockholder who makes a demand concedes that demand is not excused as futile,68 the agreement permitted Starr to reserve the right, if its demand was refused, to “challeng[e] the Board’s decision to refuse the demand by filing amended complaints alleging that the demand was wrongfully refused and/or not required as a matter of law.”69

Under this agreement, Starr made its demand, and the parties presented the AIG board with three rounds of adversarial briefing and inperson presentations.70 The board asked pointed questions of counsel for the parties, consulted with its own counsel, and ultimately decided unanimously to reject the demand.71

As the agreement allowed, Starr amended its complaint to advance demand futility and wrongful refusal arguments.72 Citing Grimes and Spiegel, the Court of Federal Claims surprisingly rejected Starr’s demand futility argument, reasoning that Starr’s demand “conclusively waive[d] any right to assert demand futility.”73 The court further held that “Starr’s September 5, 2012 agreement with AIG, in which Starr purportedly reserved ‘the right to assert that demand was . . . excused,’ is insufficient to overcome binding black letter law.”74

As a matter of corporate power, the black-letter law cited in Starr that a stockholder concedes any arguments about demand futility by making a demand traces back through Grimes and Spiegel to the Delaware Supreme Court’s decision in Stotland v. GAF Corp.75 In Stotland, the plaintiffs tried and failed to establish demand futility, and their derivative action was dismissed.76 They appealed. 77 With that appeal pending, one of the plaintiffs made a demand, and the board re-ferred the demand to a demand review committee.78 Citing Zapata,79 the Stotland court reasoned “that once a demand has been made, absent a wrongful refusal, the stockholders’ ability to initiate a derivative suit is terminated.”80

But Zapata itself does not answer the timing question. It holds merely that “[a] demand, when required and refused (if not wrongful), terminates a stockholder’s legal ability to initiate a derivative action. But where demand is properly excused, the stockholder does possess the ability to initiate the action on his corporation’s behalf.”81 Zapata does not hold that a plaintiff, as in Starr, lacks corporate power to make a demand, provisionally, before it is determined whether demand was, in fact, required or not. Thus, it is questionable whether demand futility in this context should be deemed conclusive, rather than treated as a default rule in the absence of an agreement between the complaining stockholder and the corporation.

It is hard to see the case to be made against private ordering by sophisticated parties to permit a conditional demand. As the landscape currently exists in Delaware, a stockholder gets two bites at the apple if she litigates futility first, then makes a demand as a fallback. If the same stockholder makes a demand first, however, then the futility door is closed.82 This is backwards, if the demand requirement is expected to fulfill an out-of-court dispute resolution function.

In weak cases, defense lawyers would likely adopt the same posture they do in the current regime, which is to wait for a stockholder to act and respond accordingly, with either a Rule 23.1/12(b)(6) dismissal motion or a demand refusal. But in stronger cases, a stockholder could make a provisional demand and her attorneys could participate in the dispute resolution process. The parties could follow in the footsteps of the AIG board and make a faithful demand decision, informed by a deep, adversarial process involving a stockholder plaintiff’s counsel. This would allow the demand requirement to once again fulfill its oft-repeated promise of serving as an internal dispute resolution mechanism, and would lead to more informed demand decisions.

V. CONCLUSION

The demand requirement, and the demand review committee process that often follows a demand, are vital cogs in the corporate governance machinery. But they are underused, in part because of the harsh consequences of a stockholder making a demand. If the law allowed for a conditional demand, as we believe it should, the demand requirement could serve an internal dispute resolution function that is often discussed, but rarely put into practice.

In our view, Delaware law does and should allow for a conditional demand. But it does not do so expressly, and making that position more clear to stockholders and their counsel would be a welcome addition to our law. The change could be implemented on a legislative level, by amendment to the Delaware General Corporation Law. But the derivative suit mechanism and the demand requirements are judge-made creatures of equity,83 making a legislative pronouncement seem unnecessary and perhaps out of place. In our view, a judicial decision in an appropriate case by the Delaware Court of Chancery or Delaware Supreme Court could address the matter, but the wait for an appropriate case might be interminable, as a stockholder plaintiffs’ lawyer aware of the Starr decision might rightly be reluctant to follow a similar path. Perhaps the most appropriate solution, therefore, would be an addition to Court of Chancery Rule 23.1,84 which codifies and implements the demand requirement.

Regardless of the form, we believe that Delaware law currently supports the making of a provisional demand with agreement by the parties, and that stockholders, corporations, and their counsel would benefit if that were clearly expressed.

_____________

1. DEL. CT. CH. R. 23.1.

2. DEL. CT. CH. R. 12(b)(6).

3See generally Zapata Corp. v. Maldonado, 430 A.2d 779 (Del. 1981).

4. DEL. CODE ANN. tit. 8, § 141(a) (2016).

5E.g., Grimes v. Donald, 673 A.2d 1207, 1215 (Del. 1996) (“If a claim belongs to the corporation, it is the corporation, acting through its board of directors, which must make the decision whether or not to assert the claim.”); In re Ezcorp Inc. Consulting Agreement Derivative Litig., 130 A.3d 934, 943 (Del. Ch. 2016) (“But when a corporation suffers harm, the board of directors is the institutional actor legally empowered under Delaware law to determine what, if any, remedial action the corporation should take, including pursuing litigation against the individuals involved.”); McPadden v. Sidhu, 964 A.2d 1262, 1269 (Del. Ch. 2008) (“A derivative action ‘fetters managerial prerogative’ because it is the directors, not stockholders, who manage the business and affairs of a corporation, which includes determining whether to assert legal claims on behalf of the corporation.” (quoting Caruana v. Saligman, C.A. No. 11135, 1990 WL 212304, at *3 (Del. Ch. Dec. 21, 1990))).

6. Aronson v. Lewis, 473 A.2d 805, 811 (Del. 1984); see also Quadrant Structured Prods. Co. v. Vertin, 115 A.3d 535, 548 (Del. Ch. 2015).

7. Cochran v. Stifel Fin. Corp., C.A. No. 17350, 2000 WL 286722, at *10 n.41 (Del. Ch. Mar. 8, 2000) (“As a historical matter, . . . it appears that the derivative suit was a common law development designed to ensure basic fairness and that the demand requirement was judicially created to guarantee that the statutory power of directors to manage the legal affairs of the company was not disregarded except when necessary to serve the policy purpose justifying the recognition of the derivative suit in the first instance.”), aff’d in part & rev’d in part on other grounds, 809 A.2d 555 (Del. 2002).

8Aronson, 473 A.2d at 811; see also Ezcorp, 130 A.3d at 943–44.

9See generally Rales v. Blasband, 634 A.2d 927, 933–34 (Del. 1993) (where the board did not make a business decision that is the subject of the underlying litigation, the demand futility test requires the court “to examine whether the board that would be addressing the demand can impartially consider its merits without being influenced by improper considerations”); Aronson, 473 A.2d at 814 (“[I]n determining demand futility the Court of Chancery in the proper exercise of its discretion must decide whether, under the particularized facts alleged, a reasonable doubt is created that: (1) the directors are disinterested and independent and (2) the challenged transaction was otherwise the product of a valid exercise of business judgment.”).

10Rales, 634 A.2d at 936.

11Aronson, 473 A.2d at 815–16.

12Rales, 634 A.2d at 936.

13In re Oracle Corp. Derivative Litig., 824 A.2d 917, 939 (Del. Ch. 2003).

14. Spiegel v. Buntrock, 571 A.2d 767, 775 (Del. 1990).

15. Belendiuk v. Carrion, C.A. No. 9026-ML, 2014 WL 3589500, at *5 (Del. Ch. July 22, 2014) (quoting Rales, 634 A.2d at 935).

16. Scattered Corp. v. Chi. Stock Exch., Inc., 701 A.2d 70, 74 (Del. 1997) (“If the stockholders make a demand, as in this case, they are deemed to have waived any claim they might otherwise have had that the board cannot independently act on the demand.”); Grimes, 673 A.2d at 1215; Spiegel, 571 A.2d at 775 (“By making a demand, a stockholder tacitly acknowledges the absence of facts to support a finding of futility. Thus, when a demand is made, the question of whether demand was excused is moot.” (citations omitted)). This concession is limited to the issue of demand futility—phase one of the two-part derivative action. Grimes, 673 A.2d at 1218–19 (“If a demand is made, the stockholder has spent one—but only one—‘arrow’ in the ‘quiver.’ The spent ‘arrow’ is the right to claim that demand is excused.”); see also Scattered, 701 A.2d at 74–75 (“It is not correct that a demand concedes independence ‘conclusively’ and in futuro for all purposes relevant to the demand.”).

17Grimes, 673 A.2d at 1219.

18. See Elena C. Norman & Richard J. Thomas, Special Demand Committees: Practical Insights for the General Counsel, 32 DEL. LAW. 14, 16 (2014).

19. Thorpe v. CERBCO, Inc., 611 A.2d 5, 10 n.5 (Del. Ch. 1991) (“[W]hile the board may have been able to act independently through a fully empowered special committee of independent directors (thus justifying a stockholder in making demand), the board in fact chose not to do so, thus justifying treating the board as not independent.”).

20. Although the legal standards for independence and disinterestedness are the same, the stakes are arguably higher in the context of a special litigation committee than for a demand review committee. See infra Part III.D; see also Beam v. Stewart, 845 A.2d 1040, 1055 (Del. 2004) (“Unlike the demand-excusal context, where the board is presumed to be independent, the SLC has the burden of establishing its own independence by a yardstick that must be ‘like Caesar’s wife’—‘above re-proach.’” (quoting Lewis v. Fuqua, 502 A.2d 962, 967 (Del. Ch. 1985))).

21See, e.g., Ironworkers Dist. Council of Phila. & Vicinity Ret. & Pension Plan v. Andreotti, C.A. No. 9714-VCG, 2015 WL 2270673, at *26 (Del. Ch. May 8, 2015) (“The Committee . . . over nine months vigorously investigated the circumstances alleged in the Stockholder Demands, including interviewing 23 witnesses, reviewing hundreds of documents, reviewing 25 days of deposition testimony and the entirety of the Monsanto Litigation transcript, and conducting additional research. At the end of this process, the Committee produced the 179–page Report, exclusive of exhibits . . . .”), aff’d, 132 A.3d 748 (Del. 2016).

22See Grimes, 673 A.2d at 1219.

23See generally GREGORY V. VARALLO ET AL., SPECIAL COMMITTEES: LAW AND PRACTICE 40–53 (2d ed. 2014).

24See, e.g., Ams. Mining Corp. v. Theriault, 51 A.3d 1213, 1221–22 (Del. 2012) (“The resolution creating the Special Committee provided that the ‘duty and sole purpose’ of the Special Committee was ‘to evaluate the [Merger] in such manner as the Special Committee deems to be desirable and in the best interests of the stockholders of [Southern Peru],’ and authorized the Special Committee to retain legal and financial advisors at Southern Peru’s expense on such terms as the Special Committee deemed appropriate. The resolution did not give the Special Committee express power to negotiate, nor did it authorize the Special Committee to explore other strategic alternatives.”); see also In re CNX Gas Corp. S’holders Litig., 4 A.3d 397, 404 (Del. Ch. 2010) (“The scope of the authority that the CNX Gas board provided to the Special Committee was limited. The Special Committee was authorized only to review and evaluate the Tender Offer, to prepare a Schedule 14D-9, and to engage legal and financial advisors for those purposes. The resolution did not authorize the Special Committee to negotiate the terms of the Tender Offer or to consider alternatives.”).

25. For efficiency’s sake, the demand review committee charter should be broad enough to en-compass future demands regarding the same subject matter. See Kops v. Hassell, C.A. No. 11982-VCG, 2016 WL 7011569, at *4–5 (Del. Ch. Nov. 30, 2016) (rejecting argument that demand review committee relied on previous demand investigation of similar subject matter); Andreotti, 2015 WL 2270673, at *2 (discussing committee’s investigation of demands made by “several stockholders”).

26. FLI Deep Marine LLC v. McKim, C.A. No. 4138-VCN, 2009 WL 1204363, at *2 (Del. Ch. Apr. 21, 2009) (“[I]n response to the Plaintiffs’ demand letter, the Board formed a special committee to investigate the allegations asserted in the demand letter and to make a recommendation to the Board . . . .”).

27Cf. Sutherland v. Sutherland, C.A. No. 2399-VCN, 2010 WL 1838968, at *6 (Del. Ch. May 3, 2010) (concluding that by appointing a special litigation committee to investigate claims, defendants conceded that non-committee directors were interested or lacked independence).

28See VARALLO ET AL., supra note 23, at 66–72.

29Id.

30. To state what should be obvious, the committee’s counsel should not be the same firm who represented the would-be defendants in the underlying claims. See Taneja v. Familymeds Grp., Inc., C.A. No. HHD-CV-09-4045755-S, 2012 WL 3934279, at *5 (Conn. Super. Ct. Aug. 21, 2012).

31. Mount Moriah Cemetery ex rel. Dun & Bradstreet Corp. v. Moritz, C.A. No. 11431, 1991 WL 50149, at *4 (Del. Ch. Apr. 4, 1991), aff’d, 599 A.2d 413 (Del. 1991); see also Halpert Enters., Inc. v. Harrison, C.A. No. 07-1144, 2008 WL 4585466, at *2 (2d Cir. Oct. 15, 2008) (applying Delaware law) (“[T]here is no rule of general application that a board must interview every possible witness who may shed some light on the conduct forming the basis of the litigation.”).

32. Barkan v. Amsted Indus., Inc., 567 A.2d 1279, 1286 (Del. 1989) (“Nevertheless, there is no single blueprint that a board must follow to fulfill its duties. A stereotypical approach to the sale and acquisition of corporate control is not to be expected in the face of the evolving techniques and financing devices employed in today’s corporate environment.”).

33. Levine v. Smith, 591 A.2d 194, 214 (Del. 1991).

34. Gatz v. Ponsoldt, C.A. No. 174-N, 2004 WL 3029868, at *5 (Del. Ch. Nov. 5, 2004).

35. Scattered Corp. v. Chi. Stock Exch., Inc., C.A. No. 14010, 1996 WL 417507, at *5 (Del. Ch. July 12, 1996), aff’d, 701 A.2d 70 (Del. 1997).

36. Ironworkers Dist. Council of Phila. & Vicinity Ret. & Pension Plan v. Andreotti, C.A. No. 9714-VCG, 2015 WL 2270673, at *26 n.255 (Del. Ch. May 8, 2015).

37See Mount Moriah Cemetery ex rel. Dun & Bradstreet Corp. v. Moritz, C.A. No. 11431, 1991 WL 50149, at *4 (Del. Ch. Apr. 4, 1991) (“During that time, plaintiff was asked to identify potential witnesses and there was a fairly regular exchange of correspondence as well as several meetings between counsel for plaintiff and counsel for the Special Committee.”), aff’d, 599 A.2d 413 (Del. 1991).

38Scattered, 1996 WL 417507, at *5.

39. Espinoza ex rel. JPMorgan Chase & Co. v. Dimon, 124 A.3d 33, 37 (Del. 2015) (A committee recommendation could be set aside if a reviewing court found that the committee “ignored a material aspect of the demand letter,” depending on “the contextual importance of that issue in the overall scope of what the committee was charged with investigating.”).

40. Rales v. Blasband, 634 A.2d 927, 933–34, 935 (Del. 1993).

41. Thorpe v. CERBCO, Inc., 611 A.2d 5, 11 (Del. Ch. 1991) (“But in some cases . . . the reasonableness and good faith of the investigation relates to an entity (a special committee) that is not the decision maker. Thus, in such a case, its good faith and prudence may not alone justify deference to someone else’s decision.”).

42. City of Orlando Police Pension Fund v. Page, 970 F. Supp. 2d 1022, 1030–31 (N.D. Cal. 2013) (denying motion to dismiss in part because defendants refused to make review committee’s report public and relied exclusively on “conclusory” demand refusal letter).

43. DEL. CODE ANN. tit. 8, § 220 (2016).

44. La. Mun. Police Emps. Ret. Sys. v. Morgan Stanley & Co., C.A. No. 5682-VCL, 2011 WL 773316, at *8 (Del. Ch. Mar. 4, 2011).

45. Espinoza ex rel. JPMorgan Chase & Co. v. Dimon, 124 A.3d 33, 36 (Del. 2015); see also Grimes v. Donald, 673 A.2d 1207, 1219 (Del. 1996) (“If a demand is made and rejected, the board rejecting the demand is entitled to the presumption of the business judgment rule unless the stockholder can allege facts with particularity creating a reasonable doubt that the board is entitled to the benefit of the presumption.”).

46. Andersen v. Mattel, Inc., C.A. No. 11816-VCMR, 2017 WL 218913, at *7 (Del. Ch. Jan. 19, 2017).

47. Belendiuk v. Carrion, C.A. No. 9026-ML, 2014 WL 3589500, at *7 (Del. Ch. July 22, 2014) (discussing cases).

48. Thorpe v. CERBCO, Inc., 611 A.2d 5, 8 (Del. Ch. 1991).

49. 672 A.2d 66, 72 (Del. Ch. 1995).

50. Zapata Corp. v. Maldonado, 430 A.2d 779 (Del. 1981).

51See Grimes v. Donald, 673 A.2d 1207, 1216 n.13 (Del. 1996) (“The use of a committee of the board formed to respond to a demand or to advise the board on its duty in responding to a demand is not the same as the [special litigation committee] process . . . . It is important that these discrete and quite different processes not be confused.”).

52. Scattered Corp. v. Chi. Stock Exch., Inc., 701 A.2d 70, 74 (Del. 1997) (“If the stockholders make a demand, as in this case, they are deemed to have waived any claim they might otherwise have had that the board cannot independently act on the demand.”); Grimes, 673 A.2d at 1218–19 (“If a demand is made, the stockholder has spent one—but only one—‘arrow’ in the ‘quiver.’ The spent ‘arrow’ is the right to claim that demand is excused.”); Spiegel v. Buntrock, 571 A.2d 767, 775 (Del. 1990) (“By making a demand, a stockholder tacitly acknowledges the absence of facts to support a finding of futility. Thus, when a demand is made, the question of whether demand was excused is moot.” (citations omitted)). This concession is limited to the issue of demand futility—phase one of the two-part derivative action.

53. Aronson v. Lewis, 473 A.2d 805, 811 (Del. 1984).

54. Levine v. Smith, C.A. No. 8833, 1987 WL 28885, at *2 (Del. Ch. Dec. 22, 1987).

55Zapata, 430 A.2d at 786 (citing DEL. CODE ANN. tit. 8, § 141(a), (c)).

56Id. at 788.

57See VARALLO ET AL., supra note 23, at 70 (“We recommend that an SLC delegation include a specific statement that the determinations made by the SLC shall be final and binding upon the corporation and shall not be subject to review by the board. Such language is a clear statement of the exclusive authority of the committee with respect to the pending litigation.”).

58See Zapata, 430 A.2d at 787–89.

59Id. at 787.

60Id. at 788–89.

61See generally C.N.V. Krishnan et al., An Empirical Study of Special Limitation Committees: Evidence of Management Bias and the Effect of Legal Standards (Oct. 16, 2017), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3053449.

62. Laborers’ Dist. Council Constr. Indus. Pension Fund v. Bensoussan, C.A. No. 11293-CB, 2016 WL 3407708, at *11 (Del. Ch. June 14, 2016) (“Each of these contentions is, unfortunately, reflective of undesirable practices that pervade representative litigation as lawyers for stockholders jockey for control of a case in an effort to secure a payday for themselves, assuming they ultimately can confer a benefit upon the stockholders or the corporation.”).

63. Grimes v. Donald, 673 A.2d 1207, 1216 (Del. 1996) (“The demand requirement serves a salutary purpose. First, by requiring exhaustion of intracorporate remedies, the demand requirement invokes a species of alternative dispute resolution procedure which might avoid litigation altogether.”); Aronson v. Lewis, 473 A.2d 805, 812 (Del. 1984) (“Thus, by promoting this form of alternate dispute resolution, rather than immediate recourse to litigation, the demand requirement is a recognition of the fundamental precept that directors manage the business and affairs of corporations.”).

64. 111 Fed. Cl. 459 (2013), vacated in part, 856 F.3d 953 (Fed. Cir. 2017).

65See generally id.

66Id. at 466.

67Id.

68. Scattered Corp. v. Chi. Stock Exch., Inc., 701 A.2d 70, 74 (Del. 1997) (“If the stockholders make a demand, as in this case, they are deemed to have waived any claim they might otherwise have had that the board cannot independently act on the demand.”); Grimes, 673 A.2d at 1218–19 (“If a demand is made, the stockholder has spent one—but only one—‘arrow’ in the ‘quiver.’ The spent ‘arrow’ is the right to claim that demand is excused.”); Spiegel v. Buntrock, 571 A.2d 767, 775 (Del. 1990) (“By making a demand, a stockholder tacitly acknowledges the absence of facts to support a finding of futility. Thus, when a demand is made, the question of whether demand was excused is moot.” (citations omitted)). This concession is limited to the issue of demand futility—phase one of the two-part derivative action.

69Starr, 111 Fed. Cl. at 467.

70Id.

71Id. at 468.

72Id. at 469.

73Id. at 471.

74Id.

75. 469 A.2d 421 (Del. 1983).

76Id. at 421.

77Id. at 421–22.

78Id. at 422.

79. 430 A.2d 779, 784–86 (Del. 1981).

80Stotland, 469 A.2d at 422.

81Zapata, 430 A.2d at 784.

82. Thorpe v. CERBCO, Inc., 611 A.2d 5, 11 (Del. Ch. 1991) (“Thus, the current rule may be thought to exact a heavy price from shareholders who elect to try (in a context when they will not have much information) to employ internal corporate mechanisms before filing a claim on behalf of the corporation.”).

83. Cochran v. Stifel Fin. Corp., C.A. No. 17350, 2000 WL 286722, at *10 n.41 (Del. Ch. Mar. 8, 2000), aff’d in part, rev’d in part, 809 A.2d 555 (Del 2002). (“As a historical matter, . . . it appears that the derivative suit was a common law development designed to ensure basic fairness and that the demand requirement was judicially created to guarantee that the statutory power of directors to manage the legal affairs of the company was not disregarded except when necessary to serve the policy purpose justifying the recognition of the derivative suit in the first instance.”); see alsoKamen v. Kemper Fin. Servs., Inc., 500 U.S. 90, 95 (1991) (“Devised as a suit in equity, the purpose of the derivative action was to place in the hands of the individual shareholder a means to protect the interests of the corporation from the misfeasance and malfeasance of ‘faithless directors and managers.’” (quoting Cohen v. Beneficial Indus. Loan Corp., 337 U.S. 541, 548 (1949))).

84. DEL. CT. CH. R. 23.1.