Maybe, rather than three, there are actually four kinds of lies: lies, damn lies, statistics, and actuarial assumptions relied upon for public pensions. A little harsh, perhaps, but that is certainly what this article in the New York Times today suggests. Less flippantly and more substantively, the article’s discussion of underlying actuarial problems with public pension plans and the corresponding un- or underfunded nature of their liabilities points out in bas-relief something that is often lost when discussions turn to the transformation of retirement funding from a defined benefit world of pensions to the defined contribution world that we currently live in, namely that, although concerns about defined contribution plans as the centerpiece for retirement funding are both numerous and legitimate, defined benefit retirement plans come with their own problems as well. The major difference, though, is that most of those problems in the defined benefit context stay with the provider of the pension, i.e. the prior employer, while most problems with defined contribution plans fall on the pocketbooks of plan participants.

I have written before on a number of occasions about the tripartite relationship that comes into play when an insurer retains defense counsel to represent an insured against a covered lawsuit. In particular, I have discussed my views that the relationship is nowhere near as complicated as many people make it out to be, and that the proper scope of the dealings among all the players in that three sided transaction can be summed up in three handy rules of thumb, which, conveniently enough, you can find right here.

However, what is more complicated and what many people seem to have less understanding of is what are the insured’s rights when the insurer – whether it or instead the insured has selected and is paying the defense lawyers – is limiting its coverage by means of a reservation of rights, which is in essence a letter stating that the insurer will cover only parts, but not all, of any possible loss in a particular case. In many jurisdictions, these circumstance gives rise to a number of substantive powers and subtle leverages on the part of the insured, and likewise to many express duties and subtle pressure points on the part of the insurer. Those, much more than the much simpler dynamics of the tripartite relationship, are worth knowing about, and if you think so too, you may want to attend this teleconference on the subject, scheduled for tomorrow.

Backdating. It’s a scandal. No, not that backdating. I mean when bloggers can’t get to something when it first comes up, and then go back in time to talk about it. That’s what I mean by backdating, and that’s what I am going to do today. Last week, I read, but didn’t have a chance to discuss here, this article from Bloomberg on the State Street Bank subprime losses and potential ERISA related exposure. The article was particularly interesting because it takes a tack someone different than most articles that, like this one, rely on lawyers to evaluate the litigation against State Street arising out of those events; most such articles focus on liability issues, the procedural defenses available to State Street under ERISA, and the defensive position that the company can assert. This article, though, asks and attempts to answer the million dollar – or in this case, more like the billion dollar – question of how much losing these cases will cost State Street. The numbers bandied about by well informed lawyers are staggering, even to the jaded eye.

The article rounds up the usual band of worthies to comment, including the Workplace Prof’s mild mannered alter ego, Paul Secunda, who tacks the eye popping number of “hundreds of millions to the billions” on State Street’s potential liability, and Boston ERISA lawyer Marcia Wagner, who noted that the plan administrators filing suit against State Street may have had no other options but to sue. To quote the article:

Wagner said fund managers hurt by the drop may have an obligation to sue as the existing plaintiffs have. “To the extent plans were misled into purchasing something they were not authorized to purchase, they may have a fiduciary obligation to sue,” said the lawyer, who isn’t representing the investment manager or plaintiffs. “It’s sue or be sued,” she said. “They allowed bad investments, so they should be attempting to make the plans whole.”

This echoes something I said in my last post on the State Street mess, in which I raised concerns about the fact that pension fund managers invested in the State Street products without properly understanding what they were buying. As I suggested in that post, administrators fall down on their own fiduciary obligations in such circumstances. As Wagner’s comment suggests, it may well be that the administrators’ fiduciary duties under those circumstances require them to then try to remedy their initial mistakes by suing to recover the losses, rather than compounding their own fiduciary breaches by simply absorbing the loss; that latter course of action would likely just make the administrators themselves targets for breach of fiduciary duty lawsuits based on their own mistakes in investing in the State Street funds.

On various occasions on this blog I have tried to turn away from its understandable focus on legal issues and onto the real world consequences of the legal rulings that govern ERISA plans. In particular, I have a particular interest, because of the manner in which it impacts my clients, on what practices companies should follow to best protect themselves from potential exposure in the current – and in the ERISA world these days, ever changing – legal environment.

As a result, I took particular interest in this piece out of Legal Times today by an experienced accountant and employee benefit plan auditor on the practical auditing steps that should be taken to ensure proper operation of a 401(k) plan and to limit potential liability in the operation of such a plan. The author’s hook into this topic? The Supreme Court’s decision in LaRue, and the manner in which the opening of liability, at least in theory, by the case is best met by that hoary chestnut, best practices. More than that, though, the author details exactly what, on an operations level, should be part of those best practices.

Here’s a short newspaper story of a local municipal pension plan that suffered a $2.4 million loss to its pension fund, which is only about a $53 million fund, as a result of investments in subprime mortgage backed assets made either by State Street or in State Street funds (the article isn’t clear on the relationship between the pension plan and State Street, the current poster boy for breaching fiduciary duty by subprime investments). As the article points out, the pension plan has retained counsel to pursue State Street over the loss, on the theory that State Street did not adequately disclose the nature of the investments and the risk; this is pretty much par for the course for the various State Street subprime lawsuits being brought by pension and 401(k) plans, which essentially allege that volatile subprime related exposures were not disclosed but were instead contained within investment products sold as safe, conservative bond investments. Although dressed up to suit ERISA and breach of fiduciary duty issues, they can essentially be understand as highly gussied up bait and switch claims, in which retirement plan administrators and fiduciaries allege that they thought they were buying one thing from State Street – a conservative investment vehicle to balance out riskier investment allocations – but instead were sold something else, namely a highly volatile and risky exposure. State Street, of course, as the article reflects, views the cases otherwise, as instances in which the proper disclosure was made, but market downturns harmed the investments.

This whole scenario raises an interesting question, aside from whether it is the plaintiff administrators or instead State Street that is right, because no matter which one is correct in their interpretation of the events at issue, you still end up in the same place, which is that the plans signing off on these investments just plain didn’t know what they were buying. This is certainly the case if, as the plaintiff fund fiduciaries claim, they weren’t told the truth, but it is likely also the case if, as State Street claims, plan sponsors were told the truth and are now simply complaining about market outcomes; if it’s the later case, one can only assume that the sponsors didn’t understand the risk being taken when they signed up for the investment.

And this goes right back to the most important question of all here, which is what were the plan sponsors and fiduciaries doing when they were offering these investment options or making these investments themselves? This scenario speaks of poor investigation and over reliance on the investment provider, namely State Street, and suggests the plans themselves did not have proper processes, including independent administrators with the sophistication to analyze the investment choices and risks, in place for choosing investment options, prior to offering them to plan participants or investing the plans’ funds directly. In this day and age, I think we are moving past the point of debating whether those types of processes are part of the fiduciary obligations of those running retirement plans.

And by the way, for the record, I am not buying the article’s spin that the loss was not that damaging to the pension plan discussed in the article, because it was only about $2.4 million. Against total plan assets of approximately $53 million, and with the taxpayers on the hook to fund the pensions because it is a municipal plan, that’s an important hit, both financially and to the public pocketbook.

Here’s a piece passed along by the Workplace Prof, noting the rise in excessive fee litigation under ERISA. I have noted before that the combination of demographic and economic factors with the ruling in LaRue is going to create more of these types of actions over the years, not less, and thus I share the skepticism the Prof expresses over whether, as a defense lawyer quoted in the piece suggests, these cases don’t pose a significant problem for plan administrators. Moreover, I don’t necessarily buy the sentiment suggested by defense counsel quoted in the article, to the effect that these cases are about a battle of the experts over whether any particular plan’s fees were too high relative to the market or not. I think of them more as due diligence and best practices cases, as really revolving around whether the administrator followed a proper process to pick providers and funds, and to make sure the fees involved remained appropriate as measured against appropriate benchmarks.

Workplace Prof passes along today this opinion out of the Seventh Circuit by Judge Easterbrook addressing the question of structural conflicts of interest and their effect on the standard of review in ERISA governed benefit cases. Anyone who has read the bulk of my past posts on this subject knows that I do not buy the idea that the mere existence of the structural conflict standing alone – without more, such as an inference of distorted decision making that can be drawn from the administrative record itself – should affect the standard of review. There are a number of reasons for this, many of which I have explored in past posts on the question.  One of the most persuasive of which, however, has always been that the assumption that the structural arrangement by definition is affecting the decision making is frequently belied by close observation of the evidence concerning the processing of particular individual claims in situations where the administrator was also the payor; the evidence simply does not support the view that outcomes are typically varying simply because the administrator is also the payor of the benefits at issue.

Judge Easterbrook presents a very interesting take on this idea, focusing on the actual decision making by the administrator in any particular case, and suggesting why the mere fact that the same organization will also pay any covered benefits does not logically lead under those circumstances to improper claims processing. As the judge writes, in a section discussed by the Workplace Prof:

[O]ne must not anthropomorphize “the administrator.” Rarely is a pension or welfare plan’s administrator a person whose own welfare is at stake. Administrators commonly are large organizations, and the real people who make decisions on its behalf are no more interested in the outcome than federal judges are “interested” in the resolution of a tax case. True, judges’ salaries won’t be paid if taxes can’t be collected, but the effect of any one case on federal finances is so small that the judge does not care who prevails. Just so with the people who act on requests for pension or welfare benefits. Corporations often find it hard to align employees’ incentives with stockholders’ interests; they use stock options, bonuses, piece rates, and other devices. Administrators usually don’t try. There would be a real conflict of interest if a given administrator put in place a method of linking decisionmakers’ income to the substance of their decisions. A quota system (“grant no more than 50% of all applications”) or some other means of tying the wages or promotion of staff to its disposition of claims could call for non-deferential judicial review. But [the claimant here] has not argued that anyone who handled his claim had any personal interest in the outcome.

To which I would say, exactly. Note as well that the judge emphasizes one important distinction that I fear often gets overlooked when critics get their back up when anyone, myself included, suggests that structural conflicts of interest should not affect the standard of review. He is not saying that it can never affect the standard of review and that an administrator who also pays the benefits may not be acting under a conflict, but is instead recognizing that, given the realities of claim administration, it is inappropriate (perhaps more accurately, illogical) to assume that this alone is corrupting the claim determination process. Rather, as the judge points out, something more is needed in this situation to justify such an inference, something such as, in the judge’s example, evidence of a quota system or other activity that would suggest that the process was corrupted and not impartial.

The case is Williams v. Interpublic Severance Pay Plan.

I had a chance over the weekend after a busy few days to ruminate on the oral argument in MetLife v. Glenn, a transcript of which you can find here; you can find Workplace Prof’s review of the argument here and a thorough recap of the argument here, at SCOTUS blog. My take? There will be some sort of rule announced governing the standard of review that a court is to apply when presented with an appeal from a decision by an administrator functioning under a so-called structural conflict of interest – how’s that for going out on a limb, since that’s what the Court accepted cert to address? Moreover, there can’t help but be a rule of general applicability of some type set forth by the Court for these situations, since, as I discussed in detail here for instance, there is wide divergence among the circuit courts of appeals in the decision making rules they apply when confronted with that situation; given the idee fixe that ERISA is supposed to give rise to uniform rules governing employee benefits across the country (an idea that in practice, tends to be honored more in the breach, something particularly illustrated at the district court level where you can often find two judges in the same circuit reaching opposite conclusions on the same open issue), this is not a situation that can be allowed to continue. That said, however, those hoping this case would lead to a wholesale reinterpretation of the standards of review that apply to ERISA cases, and more particularly to an overall rejection of both the “arbitrary and capricious” standard of review and of the existing formulations as to when that standard of review applies, are going to be soundly disappointed; I read the argument as telegraphing a fixation on determining, and creating (and then announcing), exactly what the technical rule should be when arbitrary and capricious review is applied by a supposedly conflicted administrator, and as telegraphing a lack of interest in changing the overall structure of the case law governing the standard of review question.

I have written a lot on the blog about electronic discovery, most recently in this post, and much of it relates to the legal issues revolving around whether and when to allow such discovery. Before it vanishes off their website, I thought I would pass along this piece out of the Massachusetts Lawyers Weekly that looks at electronic discovery from a more prosaic but equally important perspective, the practicalities of actually engaging in it.