The idea that corporations are obligated only to shareholders is a dangerous fad. Law and precedent say they owe a strong duty to the 99%.
By Ken Jacobson, AlterNet
Posted on April 3, 2012
Corporations are not working for the 99 percent. But this wasn’t always the case. In a special five-part series, William
Lazonick, professor at UMass, president of the Academic-Industry
Research Network, and a leading expert on the business corporation,
along with journalist Ken Jacobson and AlterNet’s Lynn Parramore,
will examine the foundations, history and purpose of the corporation
to answer this vital question: How can the public take control of the
business corporation and make it work for the real economy?
Historically,
corporations were understood to be responsible to a
complex web of constituencies, including employees, communities,
society at large, suppliers, and shareholders. But in the era of
deregulation, the interests of shareholders began to trump all the
others. How can we get corporations to recognize their responsibilities
beyond this narrow focus? It begins in remembering that the philosophy
of putting shareholder profits over all else is a matter of ideology
which is not grounded in American law or tradition. In fact, it is no
more than a dangerous fad.
The Myth of Profit Maximizing
“It is literally – literally – malfeasance for a corporation not to
do everything it legally can to maximize its profits. That’s a
corporation’s duty to its shareholders.”
Since this sentiment is so familiar, it may come as a surprise that
it is factually incorrect: In reality, there is nothing in any U.S.
statute, federal or state, that requires corporations to maximize their
profits. More surprising still is that, in this instance, the untruth
was not uttered as propaganda by a corporate lobbyist but
presented as a fact of life
by one of the leading lights of the Democratic Party’s progressive
wing,
Sen. Al Franken. Considering its source, Franken’s statement says
less about the nature of a U.S. business corporation’s legal obligations
– about which it simply misses the boat – than it does about the point
to which laissez-faire ideology has wormed its way into the American
mind.
The notion that the law imposes a duty to
“maximize shareholder value” –
a phrase capturing the notion that
profits are mandatory and it is the
shareholders who are entitled to them – is so readily accepted these
days because it jibes perfectly with assumptions about economic life
that constantly come down to us from business and political leaders,
from academia, and from the preponderance of the media. It is unlikely
to occur to anyone under the age of 40 to question this idea – or the
idea that the highest, or even sole, purpose of a corporation is to make
a profit – because they have rarely if ever been exposed to an
alternative view. Those in middle age or beyond may have trouble
remembering a time when the corporation’s focus on shareholders’
interests to the exclusion of all other constituencies –customers,
employees, suppliers, creditors, the communities in which it operates,
and the nation – did not seem second nature.
This narrow conception of corporate purpose has become predominant only
in recent decades, however, and it flies in the face of a longer
tradition in modern America that regards the responsibilities of a
corporation as extending far beyond its shareholders. Owen D. Young,
twice chairman of
General Electric (1922-'40, 1942-'45) and 1930
Time magazine Man
of the Year, told an audience at Harvard Business School in 1927 that
the purpose of a corporation was to provide a good life in both material
and cultural terms not only to its owners but also to its employees,
and thereby to serve the larger goals of the nation:
“Here in America, we have raised the standard of political equality.
Shall we be able to add to that, full equality in economic opportunity?
No man is wholly free until he is both politically and economically
free. No man with an uneconomic and failing business is free. He is
unable to meet his obligations to his family, to society, and to
himself. No man with an inadequate wage is free. He is unable to meet
his obligations to his family, to society, and to himself. No man is
free who can provide only for physical needs. He must also be in a
position to take advantage of cultural opportunities. Business, as the
process of coordinating men’s capital and effort in all fields of
activity, will not have accomplished its full service until it shall
have provided the opportunity for all men to be economically free.”
This holistic declaration was echoed, albeit in more specific and
practical terms, by the chairman of another massive US corporation,
Johnson & Johnson, during World War II. In his 1943 “
Credo,”
a somewhat modified version of which can be found on the company’s Web
site today, Robert Wood Johnson II identified five distinct
constituencies and established an order of priority in which they would
be served by his firm. Johnson & Johnson’s “first responsibility,”
he wrote, was to its customers: “the doctors, nurses, hospitals,
mothers, and all others who use our products.” In second place came
employees; in third, management; and in fourth, “the communities in
which we live.” The interests of the stockholders, the corporation’s
“fifth and last responsibility,” appear subordinate in his mind both to
the firm’s sound operation, which depends on attention to the interests
of the other constituencies, and to its long-term welfare:
“Business must make a sound profit. Reserves must be created,
research must be carried on, adventurous programs developed, and
mistakes paid for. Adverse times must be provided for, adequate taxes
paid, new machines purchased, new plants built, new products launched,
and new sales plans developed. We must experiment with new ideas. When
these things have been done the stockholder should receive a fair
return.”
A Shift in Accountability
By 1978 the era of deregulation had begun and signs had appeared that
corporate attitudes were shifting. In that year another GE chief
executive, Reginald H. Jones, wrote that the “central principle of the
present system is that a director’s accountability is to the owners of
the enterprise.” Having set aside the broader visions of corporate duty
held by his GE predecessor Young and by Johnson, Jones in effect moved
the firm’s responsibility to its shareholders from last on the list to
first: “If this principle is abandoned, if other corporate
constituencies are placed on a plane with shareowners, if directors are
required to represent directly the interests of nonshareowner
groups…there will be no clear measure of directors’ responsibility
because there will be no clear consensus on primary corporate goals.”
His personal preferences aside, however, Jones realized that
Americans were not yet ready to accept firms’ turning their backs on the
general good, and that he and his fellow executives had something to
gain from being accommodating:
“If the concern is social responsiveness, or ‘public accountability,’
the short answer is that in this country at this time, no large
corporate enterprise can afford to be perceived as oblivious or
contemptuous of matters of genuine social or public concern. These
enterprises have to earn from the general public and their political
representatives – and earn from year to year – the right to continue to
function without radical new governmental constraints.”
The dawn of Ronald Reagan’s presidency found the corporate community
on the fence. The “Statement on Corporate Responsibility” issued in
October 1981 by the Business Roundtable, which groups the CEOs of the
largest US firms, recognizes six constituencies – customers, employees,
communities, society at large, suppliers, and shareholders – as forming
the “web of complex, often competing relationships” within which
corporations operate. It accepts the idea that “shareholders have a
special relationship to the corporation” but doesn’t allow their
interests to trump all others:
“Balancing the shareholder’s expectations of maximum return against
other priorities is one of the fundamental problems confronting
corporate management. The shareholders must receive a good return but
the legitimate concerns of other constituencies also must have
appropriate attention. Striking the appropriate balance, some leading
managers have come to believe that the primary role of corporations is
to help meet society’s legitimate needs for goods and services and to
earn a reasonable return for the shareholders in the process. They are
aware that this must be done in a socially acceptable manner. They
believe that by giving enlightened consideration to balancing the
legitimate claims of all its constituents, a corporation will best serve
the interest of the shareholders.”
Even after eight years of Reagan and amid the burgeoning of
free-market ideology, the Business Roundtable remained reluctant to
place shareholders first, affirming in 1990 that “corporations are
chartered to serve both their shareholders and society as a whole” and
adding creditors to the 1981 list of constituencies, which it otherwise
retained intact. It was only in 1997, in a new statement whose title
substituted “Corporate Governance” for “Corporate Responsibility,” that
it renounced attempts to balance the interests of corporate constituents
and, having reversed its view, argued that taking care of shareholders
was the best way to take care of the remaining stakeholders, rather than
the other way around:
“In the Business Roundtable’s view, the paramount duty of management
and of boards of directors is to the corporation’s stockholders; the
interests of other stakeholders are relevant as a derivative of the duty
to stockholders. The notion that the board must somehow balance the
interests of stockholders against the interests of other stakeholders
fundamentally misconstrues the role of directors.”
This doctrine, known as “
shareholder primacy,” now reigns in the
corporate world today, and it has so increased the power of those whom
it has benefited that it will not be easy to dislodge. Those who
propagate it believe, or would have us believe, that it is based in law;
in fact, it is supported by no more than ideology. They believe, or
would have us believe, that it reflects incontrovertible and eternal
truths; in fact, it is an expression of transient self-interest. They
believe, or would have us believe, that it honors long precedent – but,
as we have seen, its ascendency is recent, and, rather than honor it
undermines precedent. Yet despite these contradictions, corporations and
their allies have been exceedingly successful at selling their
viewpoint to the American people.
An important step toward countering their influence can come in
refusing to accept the legitimacy of shareholder primacy. Up to now,
this fad has had the power to neutralize opposition in part because it
has obscured the tool needed to challenge it: a clear understanding of
the economic realities. For this reason, we must learn what
contributions all stakeholders – not just the shareholders, but all the
others as well – make to the corporation, and the extent of the risks
and rewards those contributions truly entail. We must learn about the
interrelation of business and government in all its complexity, going
far beyond the headlines about taxes and regulation to discover who
needs whom for what, and who does what for whom. And we must learn what
rights corporations legitimately hold, what privileges they enjoy, and
what duties they are obliged to carry out.
Without this effort, without this knowledge, we are in danger of continuing to be held captive by a fad.