Bad Boy Banks Enabling Inversion: Can a Firm Be Patriotic?

The “corporate citizenship” literature has it that companies in the private sector can indeed be “good citizens.” Even though a company cannot vote or be drafted, citizenship is said to fit as an apt description of what is organizationally speaking a profit-seeking machine. To say that a company is a good or bad citizen is, moreover, to anthropomorphise (i.e., apply human characteristics to a non-human). Furthermore, in their managerial capacities, the people who run companies are duty-bound to act in the financial interest of the stockholders, and only then in the broader societal interest. Even so, an ethical basis does exist on which some of the banks can be viewed as culpable.

Between 2011 and 2014 when Goldman Sachs made nearly $210 million in “inversion fees” for helping companies based in the U.S. shift their headquarters overseas to obviate a relatively high U.S. corporate tax, asking whether the executives at the bank were patriotic is tantamount to making a category mistake. A person can without contradiction be patriotic away from work while focusing on increasing inversion fees in his or her managerial role. Hence, Jamie Dimon could sincerely look at those fees earned by JPMorgan Chase and claim, “I’m just as patriotic as anyone.”[1] Were he to have put his personal patriotism into force at the bank at the expense of the stockholders’ financial interests and the chartered function of the bank, he would have been unethically disregarding his fiduciary duty. From a Kantian standpoint, we can ask what would happen if every manager at every bank had as his or her own “personal project” as a patriotic U.S. citizen trump the duty. Patriotism, after all, is hardly monolithic, but involves interpretation in discerning the applications and the proper choices therein. Banks could hardly function that way, so to say every manager should put patriotism first would not make sense (for the banks would fail under such a mandate). This, by the way, is the first formulation of Kant’s categorical imperative. If universalizing your maxim doesn’t work because of a contradiction in the reasoning or logic, the maxim is unethical.

The argument that banks that had been in trouble in 2008 and subsequently received loaned funds from the U.S. Government are obliged ethically not to turn around and profit by depriving that government of corporate tax revenue presents us with a stronger case, for it rests on an implicit contract, or quid pro quo, rather than patriotism. Social contract theory, of which Kant was an advocate, includes implicit contracts, rather than being limited to the ones where both parties sign on the dotted line. In fact, as regards any historical agreement establishing government and citizens, Kant idealizes the notion to say that such an agreement would be what people would agree to in a state of nature—not that such an agreement was literally made as man first stepped into complex living arrangements. From this interpretation of the theory, it makes sense to say that in return for being bailed out—even from the tailwind of irrational exuberance aided and abetted by a “big short”—a person naturally would expect an obligation not to double-cross the hand that had helped at the time of crisis.

This ethical argument applies to Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, and Citigroup, each of which made sizeable profits from inversion fees and had needed the government bailout. JPMorgan Chase, on the other hand, avoided the greedy temptation to get into mortgage-based derivatives and insurance swaps based on the securities, and thus that bank did not face the implicit obligation. Jamie Dimon need not have jumped to defend his patriotism after all, or even an implicit obligation that his bank put the revenue of the U.S. Government before stockholder profits.

Regarding Goldman Sachs and Citigroup, dismissing the implicit obligation was, say we say, par for the course (i.e., in keeping with the banks’ respective cultures), for in both banks clients were lied to regarding what the traders knew were “crap.” I’m referring of course to the bonds based on sub-prime mortgages. Such fraud is also a disregard for an implicit social contract (as well as a very public legal one). Societally, people have a general expectation that people working at a bank will not exploit them through dishonest means. That’s not how business is done, the average Joe would rightly say. So perhaps the utility of this case of inversion fees lies in what it says about the intractability of a mentality in a corporate culture: the dysfunction is very difficult to remove, and thus it is likely to perpetuate itself in a pattern.

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1. Mark Gongloff, “’Patriotic’ Big Banks Profit Helping U.S. Companies Dodge Taxes,” The Huffington Post, July 29, 2014.

Labor and Stockholders: Applying Locke’s Notion of Property

John Locke’s view on how something becomes a person’s property could fundamentally alter labor-management negotiations in companies. Moreover, our assumption that management participates in the discussions may be upended. The key, I contend, lies in how we classify labor. I submit that the paradigm that has been handed down to us is deeply flawed in its fundamentals, and yet strangely we do not even question its contours.

In describing his notion of property, Locke begins with the state of nature, wherein “every Man has a Property in his own Person. This no Body has any Right to but himself.”[1] Unlike Thomas Hobbes, Locke did not think that rights depend on the existence of government. From a person’s body, Locke goes next to its labor, as properly one’s own. It follows, Locke contends, that “(w)hatsoever then [a person] removes out of the State that Nature hath provided, and left it in, he hath mixed his Labour with, and joyned to it something that is his own, and thereby makes it his Property. It being by him removed from the common state Nature placed it in, it hath by this labour something annexed to it, that excludes the common right of other Men. For this Labour being the unquestionable Property of the Labourer, no Man but he can have a right to what that is once joyned to, at least where there is enough, and as good left in common for others.”[2] The caveat at the end means that as parcels from the commons are belaboured, the resulting private property should not exhaust the commons itself, which nature provides to all. Yet even when all land, for example, has been claimed by individuals and government, surely Locke’s claim still holds that in mixing with an object, the labor of one’s person, being his or her property already, extend the property to the object too.

Yet what if another person already owns the object? Locke assumes the laboring person snatches it out of the state of nature, where anyone can appropriate the object with one’s own labor. If the basis of Locke’s theory of property is not the state of nature itself, but, rather, that a person’s own person and labor are one’s property—whether in the state of nature or in an arranged society—then a right of property is still in the mixing of a person’s labor in an object. In cases in which the object is already owned by another and he or she consents to the labor of another being mixed with said object, then either the laborer has an ownership share or he or she contracts with the pre-existing owner to sell the share.

Hence, companies, whether owned by private interests (capitalism) or a government (socialism), contract with employees essentially to purchase their property rights that naturally accrue as their respective laboring mixes in with the means of production. I distance the labor from the means of production because the latter do not gain a property right in working on an object, for it makes no sense to say that a machine has its machine and work as property. The implications of this distinction are nothing short of huge with respect to the assumptions we make about business and capital.

In financial reporting, labor is classified as an expense to be deducted from revenues to arrive at profit. The returns to a company’s owners (e.g., stockholders) come off after the profit, rather than being an expense of doing business. If Locke is correct that labor also gives rise to a property right, then the sale of the stake is also extra-business, rather than a mere means of production. That is, the cost of labor should rightfully be classified with dividends after profit.

By implication, rather than negotiating the sale of the labored property as if it were an expense, the talks would be between owners. For one group of owners, that of capital, to say, “We can pay more, but we’ll have to cut expenses” would be a category mistake. So too, would the common (and convenient) assumption, “If we pay you more, we’d have to raise prices and we’d lose business.” Within the property classification, buying up the labor-property shares would come out of dividends, rather than to be made up for by intra-business revenue or expenses. This “third rail” is never brought up as even an alternative—the capital-owners’ dividends presumably being off the table. Such a narrowing of a debate goes a long way in getting what you want in negotiations. John Locke might just say, not so fast!

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1. John Locke, The Second Treatise of Government, section 27, in Locke, Two Treatises of Government (Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 2003), p. 287.

2. Ibid., p. 288.

Hobby Lobby: On the Significance of the Case

For all the controversy stirred up by the case of Hobby Lobby v. Sibelius(2014) on whether an employer must comply with the mandate for contraceptives coverage in the Affordable Care Act, the significance of the decision handed down in a 5-4 majority opinion by the U.S. Supreme Court may be less than some commentators were predicting. 

The full essay is at "Hobby Lobby"