The Future Direction of Delaware Law (Including a Brief Exegesis on Fee Shifting Bylaws)

Delaware sets the governance standards for most public companies. The ability to attract corporations could not be explained solely by the existence of a favorable statutory regime. Delaware was not invariably the first or the only state to implement management friendly provisions. Given the interpretive gaps in the statute and the critical importance of the common law in the governance process, courts played an outsized role in setting legal standards. The management friendly nature of the Delaware courts contributed significantly to the state’s attraction to public corporations. A current example of a management friendly trend in the case law had seen the recent decisions setting out the board’s authority to adopt bylaws under Section 109 of the Delaware General Corporation Law (DGCL), particularly those involving the shifting of fees in litigation against the corporation or its directors. The DGCL allows bylaws that address “the business of the corporation, the conduct of its affairs, and its rights or powers or the rights or powers of its stockholders, directors, officers or employees.” The broad parameters are, however, subject to limits. Bylaws cannot be inconsistent with the certificate of incorporation or “the law.” Law includes the common law. The Delaware courts have used the limitations imposed by “the law” to severely restrict the reach of shareholder inspired bylaws. The courts have not used the same principles to impose similar restraints on bylaws adopted by the board of directors. This can be seen with respect to bylaws that restrict or even eliminate the right of shareholders to bring actions against management and the corporation. In ATP Tour, Inc. v. Deutscher Tennis Bund the court approved a fee shifting bylaw that had littl relationship to the internal affairs of the corporation. The decision upheld the bylaw as facially valid.The decision ignored a number of obvious legal infirmities. Among other things, the decision did not adequately address the requirement in Section 109(b) that bylaws be consistent with “the law.” The decision obliquely acknowledged that the provisions would “by their nature, deter litigation” but otherwise made no effort to assess the impact of this deterrence on shareholders causes of action. The provision in fact had the practical effect of restricting, if not eliminating, litigation rights granted by the DGCL and the common law. Perhaps most significantly, however, the bylaws significantly limited common law rights of shareholders to bring actions against the corporation and the board. Given the high dismissal rates for these actions, fee shifting bylaws imposed a meaningful risk of liability on plaintiffs. Moreover, because judgments in derivative suits were paid to the corporation, shareholders serving as plaintiffs confronted the risk of liability without any offsetting direct benefit. By preventing suits in this area, the bylaw effectively insulated the behavior of boards from legal challenge. The ATP decision was poorly reasoned and overstepped acceptable boundaries. The management friendly decision threatened the preeminent role of Delaware in the development of corporate law. The decision raised the specter of federal intervention and the potential for meaningful competition from the states. Because the opinion examined the bylaw in the context of non-stock companies, the reasoning may remain applicable only to those entities and never make the leap to for-profit stock corporations. Nonetheless, the analysis reflects a management friendly approach that does not adequately take into account the impact of the provision on the rights of shareholders.

Staying in the Delaware Corporate Governance Lane: Fee Shifting Bylaws and a Legislative Reaffirmation of the Rules of the Road

The Delaware legislature has taken steps towards the adoption of amendments to the Delaware General Corporation Law (DGCL) that would prohibit fee shifting provisions in the articles and bylaws. The language in the legislative proposal, however, addresses fee shifting provisions only in the context of "internal corporate claims." Some have raised concerns that this language would allow for fee shifting provisions that applied to other types of actions, including at least some cases brought under the securities laws. This piece suggests that in fact the Delaware General Corporation Law already prohibits the adoption of bylaws and certificate provisions that apply to causes of action unrelated to internal corporate claims. As a result, there was no reason for the Delaware legislature to expressly bar fee shifting provisions in these types of actions.

Three Dichotomies in Lawyers’ Ethics (With Particular Attention to the Corporation as Client)

Three usually unexpressed, and too often unnoticed, conceptual dichotomies underlie our perception and understanding of lawyers’ ethics. First, the existence of a special body of professional ethics and professional regulation presupposes some special need or risk. Criminal and civil law are apparently insufficient. Ordinary day-to-day morality and ordinary ethics, likewise, are not considered to be enough. What is the risk entailed by the notion of a profession that is special; who needs protection, and from what? Two quite different possible answers to this question provide the first of the three dichotomies examined in this article: one can understand the risk as primarily to a vulnerable client from a powerful professional; or, to the contrary, from a powerful client-lawyer combination toward vulnerable others. Second, what is the foundational orientation of lawyers? Are lawyers serving primarily their particular clients, and those clients’ preferences, choices and autonomy? Or is the primary allegiance of lawyers to some community or collective goal or interest distinct from the particular goals or interests of the client? The third dichotomy concerns not the substance of the risk, or the primary orientation, but the appropriate means of responding to that risk or that fundamental obligation. Should professional ethics be implemented primarily through rules? Or, should we rely on character and the discretion of lawyers to make a thought out, all things considered, decision? Each of these three presents a fundamental difference in how we perceive and address issues of lawyers’ ethics. Each affects our understanding and analysis on multiple levels, from (1) determining the appropriate or requisite conduct in a particular situation, to (2) framing a specific rule or approach for a particular category of situations, to (3) more general or abstract theory or policy. A person’s inclinations in regard to the dichotomies affects the conclusions that person will reach on each of those levels of analysis, yet those inclinations and assumptions are frequently unexamined and unarticulated. One’s position on each of the dichotomies tends to structure the approach and outcome without the issues and choice having been explicitly addressed or possibly even noticed. This article is an effort to ameliorate that problem. Part I addresses the question of what is the risk in the work of lawyers, or the function of lawyers, for which professional ethics is the answer. The concluding section focuses on the particular problem of the corporation as client. Part II then asks the related and possibly consequent question of what is the foundational orientation or allegiance of the lawyer? Is it to the individual client? Or is it to some larger community interest? Again, the concluding section focuses on the corporation. Part III turns to the means or method for addressing the obligations and possible problems of the professional ethics of lawyers. Should lawyers’ ethics guide and confine the conduct of lawyers primarily through rules? Or should it function primarily through reliance on the knowledge, judgment and character of lawyers? If the latter were the guide, ethical decisions would be made on a situation by situation basis under the discretion of each lawyer. Toward the end of each discussion possibilities for bridging the dichotomy are considered (and with such bridges each dichotomy may come to look more like a spectrum or continuum.). At several points after its introduction in Parts I and II, the special problem of the corporation as client is revisited and possible solutions suggested. Illustrating the usefulness of keeping the dichotomies in view, Part IV applies them to several exemplary situations of ethical difficulty in actual lawyer practice. For readers finding it difficult to envision the consequences of these distinctions, turning ahead to Part IV may be useful in making the discussion more concrete. Some commonalities across the dichotomies and connections among them are then developed in the concluding section, Part V.

Three Dichotomies in Lawyers’ Ethics (With Particular Attention to the Corporation as Client)

Three usually unexpressed, and too often unnoticed, conceptual dichotomies underlie our perception and understanding of lawyers’ ethics. First, the existence of a special body of professional ethics and professional regulation presupposes some special need or risk. Criminal and civil law are apparently insufficient. Ordinary day-to-day morality and ordinary ethics, likewise, are not considered to be enough. What is the risk entailed by the notion of a profession that is special; who needs protection, and from what? Two quite different possible answers to this question provide the first of the three dichotomies examined in this article: one can understand the risk as primarily to a vulnerable client from a powerful professional; or, to the contrary, from a powerful client-lawyer combination toward vulnerable others. Second, what is the foundational orientation of lawyers? Are lawyers serving primarily their particular clients, and those clients’ preferences, choices and autonomy? Or is the primary allegiance of lawyers to some community or collective goal or interest distinct from the particular goals or interests of the client? The third dichotomy concerns not the substance of therisk, or the primary orientation, but the appropriate means of responding to that risk or that fundamental obligation. Should professional ethics be implemented primarily through rules? Or, should we rely on character and the discretion of lawyers to make a thought out, all things considered, decision? Each of these three presents a fundamental difference in how we perceive and address issues of lawyers’ ethics. Each affects our understanding and analysis on multiple levels, from (1) determining the appropriate or requisite conduct in aparticular situation, to (2) framing a specific rule or approach for a particular category of situations, to (3) more general or abstract theory or policy. A person’s inclinations in regard to the dichotomies affects the conclusions that person will reach on each of those levels of analysis, yet those inclinations and assumptions are frequently unexamined and unarticulated. One’s position on each of the dichotomies tends to structure the approach and outcome without the issues and choice having been explicitly addressed or possibly even noticed. This article is an effort to ameliorate that problem. Part I addresses the question of what is the risk in the work of lawyers, or the function of lawyers, for which professional ethics is the answer. The concluding section focuses on the particular problem of the corporation as client. Part II then asks the related and possibly consequent question of what is the foundational orientation or allegiance of the lawyer? Is it to the individual client? Or is it to some larger community interest? Again, the concluding section focuses on thecorporation. Part III turns to the means or method for addressing the obligations and possible problems of the professional ethics of lawyers. Should lawyers’ ethics guide and confine the conduct of lawyers primarily through rules? Or should it function primarily through reliance on the knowledge, judgment and character of lawyers? If the latter were the guide, ethical decisions would be made on a situation by situation basis under the discretion of each lawyer. Toward the end of each discussion possibilities for bridging the dichotomy are considered (and with such bridges each dichotomy may come to look more like a spectrum or continuum.). At several points after its introduction in Parts I and II, the special problem of the corporation as client is revisited and possible solutions suggested. Illustrating the usefulness of keeping the dichotomies in view, Part IV applies them to several exemplary situations of ethical difficulty in actual lawyer practice. For readers finding it difficult to envision the consequences of these distinctions, turning ahead to Part IV may be useful in making the discussion more concrete. Some commonalities across the dichotomies and connections among them are then developed in the concluding section, Part V.

An Introduction to Conservation Easements in the United States: A Simple Concept and a Complicated Mosaic of Law

The idea of a conservation easement – restrictions on the development and use of land designed to protect the land’s conservation or historic values – can be relatively easily understood. More significant and more challenging is the complex body of state and federal laws that shapes the creation, funding, tax treatment, enforcement, modification, and termination of conservation easements. The explosion in the number of conservation easements over the past four decades has made them one of the most popular land protection mechanisms in the United States. The National Conservation Easement Database estimates that the total number of acres encumbered by conservation easements exceeds 40 million.Because conservation easements are both novel and ubiquitous, understanding how they actual work is essential for practicing lawyers, policymakers, land trust professionals, and students of conservation. This article provides a “quick tour” through some of the most important aspects of the developing mosaic of conservation easement law. It gives the reader a sense of the complex inter-jurisdictional dynamics that shape conservation transactions and disputes about conservation easements. Professors of property law, environmental law, tax law, and environmental studies who wish to cover conservation easements in the context of a more general course can use the article to provide their students with a broad but comprehensive overview of the relevant legal and policy issues.

The Jewish Law Firm: Past and Present

The rise and growth of large Jewish law firms in New York City during the second half of the twentieth century was nothing short of an astounding success story. As late as 1950, there was not a single large Jewish law firm in town. By the mid-1960s, six of the largest twenty law firms were Jewish, and by 1980, four of the largest ten prestigious law firms were Jewish firms. Moreover, the accomplishment of the Jewish firms is especially striking because, while the traditional large White Anglo-Saxon Protestant law firms grew at a fast rate during this period, the Jewish firms grew twice as fast, and they did so in spite of experiencing explicit discrimination. What happened? This book chapter is a revised, updated study of the rise and growth of large New York City Jewish law firms. It is based on the public record, with respect to both the law firms themselves and trends in the legal profession generally, and on over twenty in-depth interviews with lawyers who either founded and practiced at these successful Jewish firms, attempted and failed to establish such firms, or were in a position to join these firms but decided instead to join WASP firms. According to the informants interviewed in this chapter, while Jewish law firms benefited from general decline in anti-Semitism and increased demand for corporate legal services, a unique combination of factors explains the incredible rise of the Jewish firms. First, white-shoe ethos caused large WASP firms to stay out of undignified practice areas and effectively created pockets of Jewish practice areas, where the Jewish firms encountered little competition for their services. Second, hiring and promotion discriminatory practices by the large WASP firms helped create a large pool of talented Jewish lawyers from which the Jewish firms could easily recruit. Finally, the Jewish firms benefited from a flip side of bias phenomenon, that is, they benefited from the positive consequences of stereotyping. Paradoxically, the very success of the Jewish firms is reflected in their demise by the early twenty-first century: because systematic large law firm ethno-religious discrimination against Jewish lawyers has become a thing of the past, the very reason for the existence of Jewish law firms has been nullified. As other minority groups, however, continue to struggle for equality within the senior ranks of Big Law, can the experience of the Jewish firms serve as a “separate-but-equal” blueprint for overcoming contemporary forms of discrimination for women, racial, and other minority attorneys? Perhaps not. As this chapter establishes, the success of large Jewish law firms was the result of unique conditions and circumstances between 1945 and 1980, which are unlikely to be replicated. For example, large law firms have become hyper-competitive and are not likely to allow any newcomers the benefit of protected pockets of practice. While smaller “separate-but-equal” specialized firms, for instance, ones exclusively hiring lawyer-mothers occasionally appear, the rise of large “separate-but-equal” firms is improbable.