CSR and Corporate Governance Reform: An Opporunity for BlackRock as an Activist Shareholder

In 2019, BlackRock’s management and board publically fired two executives in the Hong Kong office for breaching company rules on dating subordinates. The firings demonstrated to employees that the company would enforce its employee policies and sent the message that employees would be “free to point out problems in the workplace.”[1] This would not be so extraordinarily significant but for the fact that BlackRock is the “world’s largest money manager with $7.4 trillion under management,” which enables the company, through the funds it runs, to be “one of the five largest shareholders in nearly every corporation in the S&P 500.”[2] So BlackRock “can cast votes and pressure boardrooms to effect change.”[3] The company would be hypocritical in using its power as a major stockholder to get managements to have and enforce good workplace policies if the company were not doing so itself. From the standpoint of self-regulatory capitalism in society, BlackRock could make a significant contribution far beyond improving workplace policies.

In January 2020, BlackRock’s management announced that it “would take a tougher stance against corporations that aren’t providing a full accounting of environmental risks.”[4] This was “part of a slew of moves by the investment giant to show it is doing more to address investment challenges posed by climate change.”[5] BlackRock CEO Laurence Fink wrote, “The evidence on climate risk is compelling investors to reassess core assumptions about modern finance.”[6] The long-term viability of companies is a salient variable in recalculations.

As much as issue-specific stockholder activism narrows the gap between the values and priorities held by business and society, the matter of corporate governance is also important. In particular, companies whose managements control their respective boards of directors suffer from a deficit of accountability in their governance system. Board members could be influenced on issue-specific stockholder activism and yet a CEO could ignore any pressure from members if he or she controls the board, whose functions include holding the CEO accountable. BlackRock had the power as of 2020 to pressure boards to break up the conflict of interest when a CEO is also the chair of the board of directors at a company. Because of BlackRock’s reach in overseeing so many companies, corporate governance could effectively get a remake such that greater accountability would be part of the governance systems. Because outside directors would theoretically have more sway over a company’s management, wider issue-specific stockholder activism could have greater resonance with management. The gap between corporate and societal values and norms could thus be narrowed. Indeed, the capitalist system within a society would be more self-regulated in terms of corporate governance.

In short, BlackRock could improve the business sector significantly beyond responding to particular issues. Perhaps business itself is vulnerable to missing the big picture at the scale of governance systems, and thus opportunities to improve them. Even though the focus on quarterly earnings and, moreover, on profit-seeking may play a role, I submit that even CEOs do not typically cast a wide enough eye such that governance systems (not only in business, but also government!) are entirely in view as systems. Focusing on particular stockholder issues is closer to the focus on profitability, and thus primary.

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[1] Dawn Lim, Steven Russolillo, and Jing Yang, “At BlackRock, Public Firings, Overseas Probe Send Message About Office Misbehavior,” The Wall Street Journal, February 3, 2020.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Dawn Lim and Julie Steinberg, “BlackRock to Hold Companies and Itself to Higher Standards on Climate Risk,” The Wall Street Journal, January 14, 2020.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

Is Corporate Governance Anti-Democratic?

Assuming all the votes cast in an election are accurately tallied, the pronouncement of the winner would seem to be straight-forward. What it means to have won, however, is considerably more complex. Specifically, is winning getting over 50% of the vote, or should a mere plurality of, say, 38% suffice? It could be argued that a super-majority of 60% or two-thirds is necessary for there to be a discernible will of the people behind the winner. To claim that 51% represents the will of the people seems a bit of a stretch, since almost half of the voters cannot be considered to be of that will. Typically, much is read (or projected) into the 1% over the 50% in terms of a mandate. All of a sudden, 51% of the voters become “the people.”  Certainly a winning plurality of 38% cannot be said to stand for or represent the will of the people, for 38% is a minority in the total votes cast. Yet in Delaware’s corporate law, which is binding for most American corporations, a mere plurality is sufficient for a candidate to be elected to a board of directors. While this arrangement is not ideal, it is a legitimate basis even if some stockholder activists beg to differ.
Writing for the New York Times in April 2013, James Stewart defines losing a board election as “more than 50 percent of the shareholders withheld[ing] their votes of approval.” Stewart expresses his amazement that 41 boards retained directors whose pluralities in 2012 were tantamount to a resounding vote of no confidence--meaning that those directors got less than 50 percent of the votes cast. According to Stewart, those directors “actually lost their elections” and yet were allowed to remain on the boards. It sounds corrupt as well as anti-democratic. “As fiduciaries, we can’t sit by and let the board make a mochery of our fundamental right to elect directors,” John Liu, New York City’s comptroller, said in reference to Cablevision Systems. As manager of the city’s pension funds, which are invested as more than 532,000 shares in the company, Liu wrote to the company concerning three directors whose pluralities were significantly less than majorities. “The fact that all three directors remain on the board suggests that one of the few rights” afforded shareholders is “illusory,” he wrote. The company’s management did not respond. Moreover it nominated the three directors for yet another term.
Although Liu is on solid ground that insiders should not be allowed to subvert director elections. However, he is wrong in his assumption that plurality voting is not legitimate under democratic auspices. Plurality simply means that the candidate with the most votes gets elected to the given seat. Were a board to turn around and award the seat to a candidate who did not get the most votes, that would be illegitimate from the standpoint of democratic principles.
The question here is not that of legitimacy. More to the point, the question regards how much of the total vote on a seat should be sufficient for the candidate with the most votes to deserve the seat from the standpoint of the stockholders. If there are several candidates and none gets the percentage deemed by the stockholders to be sufficient, then presumably a run-off would be held.
Even though a plurality is a legitimate criterion from democratic principles, it may play into the dominance that many managements have over “their” respective boards of directors.   Where there is no stockholder-nominated candidate, management’s nominee can be elected all too easily even without much stockholder approval. Even the presence of stockholder-nominated candidates would not necessarily solve the problem; management could see to it that several “stockholder-nominated” candidates spread out the anti-management vote so the management-nominated candidate can obtain a plurality. Rather than being anti-democratic, that is merely politics.
From the stockholder standpoint, the political solution would be to up the bar on the percentage of votes cast that a candidate must have in order to be elected. Put another way, the dominance in corporate governance typically enjoyed by management (unless management really screws up) could be reduced by routinizing stockholder nominations and increasing the percentage needed for a candidate to be elected.

Source:

James Stewart, “When Shareholder Democracy Is Sham Democracy,” The New York Times, April 12, 2013.

Steve Jobs: A Unique Societal and Organizational Visionary

Typically as a company transitions from an enterprising, creative new venture to a large organization to be managed, a staid CEO replaces a visionary founder. In the case of Steve Jobs at Apple, the very nature of the man’s vision was not only inherently at odds with the status-quo underpinning of a large organization with a budget, but also essential to the company’s business model. Hence, the company, including its shareholders, paid a price for years for jettisoning Jobs. The film, Jobs (2013), is centered on the distinctiveness of Jobs’ vision. Although the film also hints at why this distinctiveness is such that the company would (and did) lose as a large organization after making the typical founder-to-CEO transition.

The full essay is at "Jobs."

BP's Criminal Guilt in the Deepwater Horizon Oil Rig Disaster

More than two years after the worst oil disaster in U.S. history, BP agreed in 2012 “to accept criminal responsibility for the . . . disaster that killed 11 workers.” What does it mean for an association to “accept criminal responsibility”? The notion seems unwholesomely anthropomorphic, if not chimeric in nature. Taken even just practically, holding a corporation itself criminally responsible may not be make sense, even as a deterrent. I contend that the notion of criminality applies only to human beings, whereas civil charges are suitable for associations including corporations.

From a corporate perspective, criminality would of course be viewed in financial terms, ideally from the standpoint of the financial welfare of the stockholders. Accordingly, the “criminal responsibility” translates into $4.5 billion in “fines and restitution.” The figure includes nearly $1.3 billion in criminal fines. The settlement includes payments of $2.394 billion to the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation, $350 million to the National Academy of Sciences over five years, and $525 million to the Securities and Exchange Commission for having misled investors by lying to Congress. The fines relate to BP pleading guilty on 11 felony counts of misconduct or neglect of ships officers, one felony count of obstruction of Congress and one misdemeanor count each under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act and the Clean Water Act. The 11 counts related to the workers' deaths are under a provision of the Seaman's Manslaughter Act.

It is the outflow of cash, rather than “pleading guilty” to 11 felony counts of “seaman’s manslaughter” relating to the deaths of the 11 workers onboard the rig and one felony count of obstruction of Congress in providing false information on the rate that oil was gushing from the deep-water well, that “translates” directly into corporate terms. During the three months in which the well was gushing uncontrollably into the Gulf, the U.S. Government relied on BP for accurate information on the rate of output, and the company executives in turn were aware of this reliance and yet chose to lie—misleading investors as well as the U.S. Government. It could be argued that the fines are essentially the same as pleading guilty, but then such fines are generally perceived as qualitatively different than those in the civil cases against BP. It is this qualitative distinction that does not translate into a business calculus other than in terms of the negative financial impact in terms of reduced reputational capital from headlines such as, “Oil Giant to . . . Plead Guilty to Criminal Charges.” What really registers in the bewindowed albeit closed offices at BP is the “to Pay $4.5 Billion” part of the headline.

Fundamentally, a company’s management is geared in its very perspective to the interest of the company, and ideally its stockholders, rather than to the business environment, even when the company has created harm to the latter. How does a corporation even accept responsibility for something like manslaughter or lying? It is not as though an organization has a mind, much less a conscience. A business mindset is more like that of a shark—a feeding machine. It does not make sense to hold a shark responsible; it can only be kept out of Sydney’s swimming areas, for example, by nets.

Organizations are basically the people who run and operate them. “Company” is actually a plural noun, as in “a company of men.” Accordingly, the individuals who formulate, sign off on, and implement a policy, procedure or decision that results in harm to others (or the environment) can and should be held criminally responsible. Put another way, human beings rather than associations can feel punishment and thus can be subject to it.

Fortunately, besides the criminal settlement, “three former BP employees were charged by a federal grand jury with felonies in the incident, two of them for allegedly failing to carry out a critical safety test properly” and “to alert onshore engineers to problems with the drilling.” The two oil well supervisors were charged with 11 counts of “seaman’s manslaughter,” 11 counts of involuntary manslaughter and one violation of the Clean Water Act. The third, “David Rainey, BP’s former head of Gulf of Mexico exploration, who took a lead role in the disaster response, was charged with obstruction of Congress and making false statements to a law enforcement officer for allegedly lying about how much crude was spewing from the well.” Unless decided on his own to lie, others at BP should have been charged criminally too.

The fact that criminal charges were made against particular persons at BP is extremely important, both in itself (i.e., justice) and as a deterrent. Two years after the disaster, BP was still the largest oil producer in the Gulf of Mexico. Additionally, the oil giant was exploring for oil and gas in Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana, and Ohio. The company would likely have to send executives to the Hill to testify in the future, and those executives should know that they could go to prison for deciding to lie or even “just following orders” to mislead Congress.

As for the criminal fines, they may actually be insufficient financially, given the wealth of the oil giant. The $4.5 billion is merely 17% of the company's profit in 2011 alone. To cover most of the cost of the criminal fines, the company simply sold its Texas City, Texas refinery—where fifteen people had been killed in an accident in 2005—for $2.5 billion. Meanwhile, the multinational company was able to maintain “strategically important” refineries in Washington, Ohio and Indiana in the U.S. alone. Although “leaner,” the well-publicized company might even benefit in terms of public relations in the future from being rid of the sordid refinery in Texas.

To be sure, the civil claims pending at the time could include up to $20 billion under the Clean Water Act if the company is held grossly negligent (i.e., “conscious and voluntary disregard”). Additionally, the company has spent about $14 billion on spill response and clean-up and more than $9 billion in claims to business and individuals. A related claim was up to $7.8 billion when BP announced the criminal settlement in late 2012. Also, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Florida were suing BP for civil fines. Clearly, these fines dwarf the monetary element of criminality. I contend that the other elements of criminality do not register at the company level.

In spite of having agreed to have BP plead guilty, the company’s executives did not seem particularly interested in admitting guilt. "We believe this resolution is in the best interest of BP and its shareholders," said Carl-Henric Svanberg, BP's Chairman. "It removes two significant legal risks and allows us to vigorously defend the company against the remaining civil claims and to contest allegations of gross negligence in those cases." This is hardly an acknowledgement of criminal guilt. Rather, it is a statement of how the settlement benefits the company! This is like boy sent to his room as a punishment bragging about being able to play video-games from his bed. Surely his mother hearing this would wonder whether she had in fact just punished her son or rewarded him for bad behavior.

From BP’s standpoint, the decision to plead guilty on criminal charges was done in the best interest of the shareholders by reducing legal risk. This is not to accept and acknowledge being blameworthy in a criminal sense. Accordingly, on the day in which the criminal settlement was announced, shares of BP actually rose 14 cents, ending the day at $40.30. Relatedly, the Journal reports that analysts “reacted positively to BP’s settlement of its criminal liability.” There is no sense in this reaction of how you or I might react to a person who “pleads guilty to criminal charges.” We would not exactly buy stock in that person. A company is different—it is a financial machine wherein a settlement that provides a ceiling on the cash to be spent translates as “limiting legal risk.”

In my view, the various civil fines are what must have registered at the company level at BP because of the sheer amount of cash involved. It can be asked from this case whether it even makes sense to hold a company criminally guilty. “Fighting crime” could be more focused against the persons involved—expanding what counts as who is “in the know” on a given policy or a decision that harms others—while the monetary aspect to a company is in civil crimes.

Alternatively, if a corporation truly is to be held criminally guilty in a given country, then it would seem to me that “going to prison” would mean that the company could not do business inside or even with that country or its businesses during the length of its sentence. Lest it be answered that an oil giant would hardly agree to a settlement under those terms, I answer that criminals don’t necessarily agree to plead guilty and there is, after all, the alternative of a criminal trial and verdict. A company being found guilty rather than agreeing to plead guilty deprives it of its share of control while still implying the ethical obligation to admit rather than deny the guilt implied in the verdict. In short, either being criminally guilty should mean something besides reducing legal risk (i.e., something bad ) or concept should not apply at all—to companies, that is.

Sources:

Michael Kunzelman, “BP Oil Spill Settlement Announced,” The Huffington Post, November 15, 2012.

Tom Fowler, “BP Slapped With Record Fine,” The Wall Street Journal, November 16, 2012.

Angel Gonzalez and Daniel Gilbert, “Accident Fails to Dent British Firm’s Ambitions in U.S.,” The Wall Street Journal, November 16, 2012.

Executive Compensation (Part II): Paying Failure

In late September 2011, Léo Apotheker was fired after 11 months as CEO at Hewlett-Packard. As a reward, he walked with $13.2 million in cash and stock, in addition to a sign-on package worth about $10 million, according to the New York Times. A month earlier, Robert P. Kelly received severance worth $17.2 in cash and stock when he was fired as CEO of Bank of New York Mellon. Even his clashing with board members and senior managers did not obstruct his nice severance package. A few days later, Carol Bartz was let go as CEO of Yahoo with nearly $10 million in spite of the company’s poor performance. Back in April 2011, John Chidsey, the CEO of Burger King, had departed with a severance package worth almost $20 million in the fact that McDonalds had been outcompeting Burger King. Baxter Phillips, the CEO of Massey Energy, got a package worth over $34 million in spite of “presiding over a company barraged with accusations of reckless conduct and with legal claims stemming from one of the deadliest mining disasters in memory,” according to the New York Times. Unfortunately, the list goes on and on. Is this a system of pay-for-failure? Moreover, do chief executives, who seem to outward appearances to be almost exclusively motivated by what they can get in additional compensation, have too much leverage over boards, and thus over even the owners as well? If so, is corporate governance itself severely broken? I answer in the affirmative.

“We repeatedly see companies’ assets go out the door to reward failure,” Scott Zdrazil, the director of corporate governance at a major bank’s investment fund that sought to tighten the restrictions on severance packages at three oil companies in 2010. He claims that investors are frustrated that boards of directors have not prevented such windfalls. Even the Dodd-Frank financial reform law has its mandated “say on pay” stockholder votes on a non-binding basis. It is as though stockholders have given up their property rights in favor of the “rights” having been taken or assumed by their agents—the directors and upper echelon managers. It is as though the business judgment rule trumps property rights even where the compensation of executives who typically control their boards is at issue. The conflict of interest here is extraordinary even as it is assumed to be obviated by the fiction of board independence from management. To be sure, a board of directors is supposed to hold management accountable.

Don’t look to public policy to shore up the property rights of stockholders any time soon. Eric Dash of the New York Times avers that the Obama administration “seemed to lose its bully pulpit for compensation reform after most of the nation’s biggest financial companies repaid their government loans.” Never mind that the administration allowed at least four of the mega-banks to repay early based on the bankers’ desire to avoid limitations on their own compensation.

The bottom line is that CEOs are not really all that interested in serving the owners of the companies; the top executives are primarily interested in their own gain, be it in terms of position/power or compensation. Structuring the latter in stock options with vesting periods and looking to outside directors for accountability are not sufficient checks on the single-minded pursuit of CEOs of their narrow self-interest. Even when a bank is in dire circumstances, such as Merrill Lynch was on September 15, 2008, a CEO can be obsessed with “letters”—statements on his or her compensation (as well as that of other top execs) being honored by the acquiring company.

As negotiations dragged on into the wee hours of Monday morning, Ken Lewis of Bank of America was utterly disgusted with John Thain’s fixation on what he and others at Merrill would get as bonuses (for a year of losses, by the way), even as Merrill and its stockholders held in the balance after midnight (when Lehman filed for bankruptcy). Lewis could only look over at Thain and think to himself, The only thing these Wall Street guys are concerned about is themselves. Even in the midst of a financial system collapse, Thain was focused on getting what he thought he deserved in spite of the huge losses. In fact, he had put off even talking to Lewis at Bank of America—repeatedly rebuffing his president’s (Fleming) lobbying—because the CEO did not like the idea of having to work for Lewis! Do you suppose the Merrill stockholders wanted to risk their entire investment in the bank because Thain didn’t want to end up working for someone else? The board of directors left the contingency plans up to him, so he didn’t have to worry about any pressure to start merger talks. Merrill’s stockholders were at best an afterthought to him, and yet the directors, who had been elected by the owners, had hired him. The eventual $29 per share price, by the way, was a result of Fleming’s negotiating for the stockholders; Thain was still looking for a line of credit from Goldman—risking an entire loss to stockholders so he could retain control of Merrill rather than turn it over to Lewis.

Even after Merrill Lynch had announced a $5.1 billion loss ($5.56 per diluted share) for the third quarter of 2008, Thain was insisting on a cash bonus of $40 million. Fleming and McCann were to get $25 million, while two other senior managers would get $15 million a piece. Thain subsequently admitted that a $20 million cash bonus for himself would be more "realistic." Given Merrill's losses in 2008 and the fact that the bank had to be sold, it is crazy that any cash bonuses would be paid for any senior manager. Thain's suggestion to the board's compensation committee that the bonuses be viewed as "success fees" for the top managers' efforts in putting together the sale of Merrill to Bank of America is nothing less than bizarre, if not comical. Failure as successs? What planet was Thain from? That a man like him ever got to be the CEO of a major bank (one too big to fail!) suggests that major flaws exist in how business practitioners view and value leadership and in how corporate governance is designed and operates.

When times were good, the finance crowd had lauded Thain as a “superman” for modernizing the NYSE. The business world tends to invent “superheroes”--even calling them rockstars!--while ignoring the more ignoble underbellies of its idols. In other words, leadership is worshipped without any clear grasp of the leaders' real contributions, while failure at the top is generally underplayed or ignored, at least financially speaking. This lack of proportion and balance is not by accident, as it is fully in the financial interests of the so-called "leaders." As for the followers and bystanders, these incredulous groupies--retarded court jesters wearing grizzled suits--happily allow themselves to get played as fools. They are dominated, not led, for the weak can dominate but not lead the herd animals.

Besides pointing to the utter bankruptcy and banality of business leadership, the case of Thain demonstrates that the system of corporate governance in the U.S. is broken even as it continues on as the status quo. Sadly, stockholders as a group are severely over-exposed to risk as a result. As long as top executives get what they believe they are worth, they will see to it, in a “by the way” fashion, that stockholders do not lose everything, but is this enough? Must stockholders (and society itself) settle for this? Are they even aware of the risk to their wealth as CEOs risk all to make sure they are taken care of? In academic terms, the system of corporate governance is incurring huge agency costs, yet I suspect we (and stockholders) are blind to their magnitude. As a society, Americans have a bad habit of taking the word of vested interests, who get away with making excuses or simply opining that there is no problem, after all. We assume that executive compensation is set by the invisible hand of the marketplace because it is in the executives’ financial interest that we take this bait and swim along with it in our gullible mouths. We are like fish that do not even realize that there are hooks in our mouths!

It does not occur to us, or to stockholders, that competent managers are out there who would gladly take top management positions for much, much less. Corporate executives have engineered a coup of sorts, having separated ownership from control at the expense of stockholders and even systemic risk in the financial system. The suits have even captured the government, such that stockholder votes on compensation are legally non-binding. This is not the invisible hand connecting demand and supply in the labor market; rather, it is a result of a rich velvet coup under the subterfuge of capitalism and democracy—with the electorate completely beguiled. Let’s not pretend this is the free market doing this, or that the governments in the U.S. are oriented to protecting the interests of stockholders and the public at the expense of the corporate managerial class.

See Essays on the Financial Crisis.

Sources:

Eric Dash, “The Lucrative Fall from Grace,” New York Times, September 30, 2011. 

Gred Farrell, Crash of the Titans (New York: Crown Business, 2010). On Thain's bonus, see chapter 16.

Batting Better Than Goldman Sachs on Corporate Governance

Companies differ on how they handle personal and institutional conflicts of interest. This difference may reflect disagreement over whether a conflict of interest is inherently unethical, or whether one must be exploited for any conduct to be unethical. I take the former position: that to be in a conflict of interest is indeed inherently unethical. At the very least, being in a conflict of interest can trigger or spawn additional conflicts of interest. I point to Goldman Sachs’ response to an institutional stockholder’s corporate governance proposal as a case in point. That case can be contrasted with how the BATs board reacted in terms of corporate governance to bad public relations and a failed IPO.


The full essay is at Institutional Conflicts of Interest, available in print and as an ebook at Amazon.

Batting Better Than Goldman Sachs on Corporate Governance

Companies differ on how they handle personal and institutional conflicts of interest. This difference may reflect disagreement over whether a conflict of interest is inherently unethical, or whether one must be exploited for any conduct to be unethical. I take the former position: that to be in a conflict of interest is indeed inherently unethical. At the very least, being in a conflict of interest can trigger or spawn additional conflicts of interest. I point to Goldman Sachs’ response to an institutional stockholder’s corporate governance proposal as a case in point. That case can be contrasted with how the BATs board reacted in terms of corporate governance to bad public relations and a failed IPO.


The full essay is at Institutional Conflicts of Interest, available in print and as an ebook at Amazon.

Corporate Social Responsibility Countering Rush Limbaugh

On February 29, 2012—Leap Day—Radio political-commentator and entertainer Rush Limbaugh called a female law student at Georgetown a “slut” and “prostitute” simply because she had said that Georgetown’s student health insurance should cover birth-control—a staple for even 98% of sexually-active married and single Catholic women as of 2012. On the following day, Limbaugh went on to offer to pay for aspirin that the women at Georgetown could “put between their knees” in lieu of birth-control. If you are wondering how that even makes sense, I am with you on that one. What strikes me in particular is the extreme to which Limbaugh went in his rhetoric or appeal for a larger audience for his radio show (and attention on himself). That corporate social responsibility would function as the corrective also surprised me, for CSR is typically merely marketing, window-dressing, or for better public relations.

By 2012, birth-control was a taken-for-granted staple in Western civilization. For one person or a group of well-placed individuals to suddenly decide for us all that the default had suddenly become toxic such that it was open season on anyone who merely confirms support for a common practice evinces the sort of power-grab that goes well beyond reason or justification. In other words, it is one thing to challenge the status quo—I do so all the time; it is quite another thing to viciously attack a person personally simply because she advocates something that is typically accepted in society. Limbaugh’s ascription of sordid and lascivious qualities to the law student was utterly unfounded, and yet for days he refused to back down—until his show’s advertisers became to pull out in droves. From the standpoint of the advertisers pulling out, the action represents corporate social responsibility in a civic sense.

David Friend, who runs the online backup company Carbonite, issued a statement on his company's website saying that Carbonite would no longer advertise with Limbaugh despite the host's rare admission of regret. From the website: “No one with daughters the age of Sandra Fluke, and I have two, could possibly abide the insult and abuse heaped upon this courageous and well-intentioned young lady. Mr. Limbaugh, with his highly personal attacks on Miss Fluke, overstepped any reasonable bounds of decency. Even though Mr. Limbaugh has now issued an apology, we have nonetheless decided to withdraw our advertising from his show. We hope that our action, along with the other advertisers who have already withdrawn their ads, will ultimately contribute to a more civilized public discourse.”[1]

It is in ultimately in contributing to a more civil public discourse that David Friend has drawn on his own experience (i.e., having two daughters) in applying corporate social responsibility at potentially financial cost for a civic purpose. The influence of personal experience goes against Max Weber’s theory of bureaucracy wherein the particular incumbent of an office does not matter as well as the corporate duty of fiduciary duty wherein a management acts only in the financial interest of the stockholders. In the case of Carbonite, Friend might have been the owner (or he might have surveyed the owners). Lest it be presumed unobjectionable that Friend could direct his company in terms of his personal experience (i.e., having two daughters) even if some of his employees receive less in compensation due to the loss of advertising, the director of a Catholic hospital could employ similar reasoning to refuse covering contraceptives for employees because of a personal moral (or religious) belief. Friend might have been on firmer ground in confining his objection against Limbaugh to the civic rationale (i.e., Limbaugh had abused his license to the public airwaves). Such a rationale is similar to that which claims that society should not permit employers to impose their personal beliefs on employees.

In other words, both Limbaugh and the employers who presume to impose their personal moralities or beliefs as binding on employees have violated the social contract by overreaching. The overreaching itself can be construed as involving aggression, rather active (Limbaugh) or passive (employers). Ultimately, the sin of self-idolatrous pride undergirds both. As Limbaugh was excoriating the Georgetown student, I was struck by how difficult it would be to provide any sort of accountability on Limbaugh for his invective hyperbole. Reading of corporate social responsibility swooping in to provide some check is impressive even if it raises the issue of how much influence the personal beliefs of an employer should have in the conduct of his or her job. I suppose what goes around comes around.

Even so, one hopes as Hegel did for some progression through human history, even if only in a progressively freeing-up of spirit. Lest this be thought to be a simple matter, it should be noted that the freedom of Limbaugh and the employers, including Friend and Georgetown, are also in the mix, as is that of the law students. If only freedom could be maximized for all of them at once; the best we can do otherwise is perhaps to see that harm is minimized. Yet even here, some would argue that there is harm in keeping a sperm from an egg and that such harm outweighs the freedom of people to use birth control. Such harm seems rather exaggerated because nothing existing is destroyed by forestalling a possibility, whereas the harm to Sandra Fluke from Limbaugh’s invective would have been minimized had it not been for corporate social responsibility. If only more businesses would invoke CSR apart from financial considerations.

1. “LimbaughAdvertiser: We Still Won’t Sponsor Rush Anymore,” The Huffington Post, March 3, 2012.

GlaxoSmithKline: Born Again Ethically?

GlaxoSmithKline, a drug company based in the E.U., agreed in 2011 to pay $3 billion to settle the U.S. Government’s civil and criminal investigations into the company’s Medicaid pricing practices and sales practices, including illegal marketing of Avandia, the diabetes drug linked to coronary problems. The settlement amount surpassed the previous record of $2.3 billion paid by Pfizer in 2009. Even so, it is doubtful that $3 billion proffered enough of a punch to motivate either Glaxo’s board or CEO to do what would be necessary to extirpate a corporate culture perhaps too comfortable with cutting corners.

The full essay is in the Introduction of Cases of Unethical Business: A Malignant Mentality of Mendacity, available in print and as an ebook at Amazon.