Constructing Issue Classes

Class actions are no longer functional. In 1966, the Advisory Committee on Civil Rules embarked on a guarded experiment by anticipating how class actions might help enforce substantive laws. But in the years since, both Congress and the courts have twisted and curtailed that experiment through increasingly strict certification standards. Now plaintiffs’ attorneys forgo a bevy of claims to buttress their certification argument, bootstrap state law claims into federal causes of action, or bill class-certification questions at such high levels of generality that judges are confronted with an all-or-nothing proposition: to certify, or not. But these strict standards and corresponding tactics have evolved from a misguided focus on class members’ cohesiveness vis-à-vis one another and a failure by parties and courts alike to frame and adjudicate collectively what actually unites plaintiffs—a defendant’s conduct.

This black-or-white thinking is not without consequence. Without certification, some litigation—like small-stakes consumer claims—will evaporate, which undermines enforcement goals. While economically viable claims will not wholly disappear, most injured people will not sue, which raises questions about realizing compensation and deterrence aims. And plaintiffs’ attorneys’ strategy of presenting only potentially certifiable causes of action can simultaneously risk disabling viable personal-injury claims and saddling subsequent proceedings with unpredictable preclusion. Plaintiffs who do sue individually are likely to be corralled into multidistrict litigation, where judges face similar agency problems but lack clear policing authority absent class certification.

Certifying fewer classes also seemingly correlates with increased public regulation through state attorneys’ parens patriae power. While faithful attorneys general can fill a much maligned regulatory void, as the New York Times recently reported, they can also be purchased with timely campaign contributions. Moreover, when state attorneys proceed exclusively in state court, parens patriae actions incite further concerns about inconsistent outcomes, precluding private claims, and inadequately representing constituents.

Issue classes, where courts certify only certain claims or elements within those claims, can shed conventional black-or-white thinking about certification, equip private regulators with a procedural means to stymie these concerns, and advance substantive values. But issue classes palliate these pitfalls only insofar as judges abandon their misguided search for internal class unity and recognize that the defendant’s conduct, when uniform, is what bonds plaintiffs—not race, gender, identical injuries, or consistent damages.

Reorienting traditional philosophies about class cohesion frees judges to think pragmatically about how to situate, sort, and adjudicate the components of claims and defenses by classifying them into their constituent parts. Most legal elements can be cataloged according to whether they address a defendant’s alleged conduct or a plaintiff’s eligibility for relief. When a defendant’s conduct is nonindividuated toward plaintiffs or when substantive law permits plaintiffs to satisfy their eligibility for relief with aggregate proof, those components are ripe for aggregate treatment. Adjudicating those issues collectively may substantially advance all the claims, increase efficiency by reducing replicated proof, and minimize inconsistent verdicts.

The promise of issue classes has not gone unnoticed. After a rocky debut in the 1990s with appellate decisions in Castano v. American Tobacco Co. and In re Rhone-Poulenc Rorer, Inc., issue classes are now experiencing a renaissance: They top the Rule 23 subcommittee’s agenda for potential rule changes and have been embraced by most circuit courts. To date, however, scholars have done little beyond debating whether issue classes should exist.

This Article changes the status quo with two principal contributions. First, after identifying how our existing procedural landscape fails to effectively redress nationwide misconduct, it constructs a unifying doctrinal theory as to when collectively resolving a single issue will be worthwhile. By reconsidering disjointed notions of class cohesion and recasting claims and defenses into defendant’s conduct or plaintiff’s eligibility components, it demystifies the certification calculus and sets the stage for courts to certify classes that resolve key issues like a defendant’s uniform conduct. This resists the all-or-nothing approach to certification and coordinates the judicial response to jurisdictionally disaggregated regulators. Second, it offers solutions to a medley of sticky legal and logistical quandaries such as how to compensate issue-class counsel when no common fund exists, ensure appropriate error-correction mechanisms through interlocutory appeals, coordinate fragmented public and private regulators, remand multidistrict litigation cases post-issue-classes, and confront Seventh Amendment Reexamination Clause concerns.

Part I begins by identifying and defining the central problem of today’s regulatory terrain: When a national corporation behaves egregiously, that single act or series of acts gets distorted through several legal prisms—jurisdictional restrictions, state law intricacies, and limited regulatory authority. Unless there is parity between the regulator’s authority, the governing law, the court’s jurisdiction, and the corporation’s nationwide conduct, the net effect is to thwart coordinated enforcement. Defendants successfully capitalize on these imbalances to avoid class certification, at least until they want the umbrella of closure that settlement classes provide. But this prompts settlement-oriented litigation. Plaintiffs’ attorneys sacrifice valuable claims to satisfy strict certification standards, have little bargaining leverage with defendants, and rarely test the claims’ merits. This risks undervaluing claims, undermining deterrence, and encouraging splintered enforcement, which escalates inadequate-representation concerns and prompts erratic preclusion decisions.

Class certification, adequate representation, and preclusion all boil down to whether a class is cohesive—a term that appears nowhere in Rule 23, but has emerged at the heart of Supreme Court jurisprudence. Part II irons out doctrinal difficulties with class cohesion and situates defendant’s conduct as what unifies plaintiffs. When misconduct toward plaintiffs is uniform, adjudicating conduct components collectively promotes consistency. But this also reveals a fundamental flaw when plaintiffs’ attorneys try to transform decentralized conduct toward different individuals into a group wrong by deploying “aggregate proof” through statistical or economic experts. Without a change in substantive law, the magic of mathematical models is just smoke and mirrors—models cannot make disparate conduct uniform.

Part III recognizes that, as usual, the devil is in the details. It thus breaks new ground by carefully parsing interrelated doctrinal, political, logistical, and constitutional concerns about issue classes. While issue classes can promote resource parity between parties and reduce inconsistent decisions as to the same conduct, certifying inconsequential issues can generate undue settlement pressure. Yet, certifying only components that resolve core questions and instituting appeals on the merits can alleviate this pressure. Conversely, without appropriate incentives, issue classes could lie stillborn in the hands of plaintiffs’ attorneys: Because issue classes do not produce a final judgment, there may be no common fund from which to collect fees. Adapting charging liens and the common-benefit doctrine, however, ensures compensation for class counsel if plaintiffs subsequently benefit from the issue class’s preclusive effect.

To be sure, issue classes can do only so much. Multiple regulators persist and procedural mechanisms cannot alter regulatory and jurisdictional overlap. But, because issue classes work by precluding re-litigation in follow-on proceedings, they can facilitate cross-pollination between (and consistency among) public and private enforcers in dispersed fora. Likewise, they offer a means for transferee judges to resolve common conduct questions in multidistrict litigation when plenary classes are nonviable.

The Corporate Criminal as Scapegoat

A corporate criminal is no scapegoat, assures the Department of Justice (“DOJ”), because it is always a priority to target all culpable individuals at a company. DOJ policy emphasizes that “[o]nly rarely should provable individual culpability not be pursued, particularly if it relates to high-level corporate officers,” even if the company settles its case with prosecutors.  After all, under the respondeat superior standard that applies in federal criminal cases, a corporation can be prosecuted if and only if an employee committed a crime.  As the Supreme Court has put it, “[T]he only way in which a corporation can act is through the individuals who act on its behalf.”  Yet, as is increasingly the subject of high-profile criticism, more often than not, when the largest corporations are prosecuted federally, individuals are not charged.  In this Article, I develop data describing these individual prosecutions—which tend to result in light sentences when convictions are obtained.  These data illustrate the special challenges of bringing corporate prosecutions, and they suggest why, in contrast to what prominent critics have argued, bringing more individual cases is no adequate substitute for prosecuting companies. I conclude by proposing how corporate prosecutions could be brought to enhance individual criminal accountability.

The corporation appears to be a kind of a scapegoat: perhaps not entirely blameless, as in the traditional concept, but literally impossible to actually jail—yet capable of receiving the brunt of blame and punishment, while the individual culprits go free.  Data presented in this Article suggest that the problem of individual and corporate prosecution requires far more careful consideration. In about two-thirds of deferred and non-prosecution agreements (“DPAs” and “NPAs”) with companies, no individual officers or employees were prosecuted for related crimes.  Many were quite high-profile prosecutions; well over half were public corporations, and many were Fortune 500 and Global 500 companies.  The companies are required to admit their crimes and accept responsibility for them, and yet the individual culprits faced no criminal consequences.

The problem becomes far more complex, however, when one asks what occurs when individual officers and employees are charged. In this Article, I study the outcomes in those cases in some detail. Prosecutors typically obtained light sentences and experienced quite high numbers of outright losses in the form of acquittals and dismissals. As will be described in Part I, from 2001 to 2014, prosecutors entered 306 deferred and non-prosecution agreements with companies.  Among those, 34%, or 104 companies, had officers or employees prosecuted, with 414 total individuals prosecuted.  Most prosecuted individuals were not high-up officers of the companies, but rather middle manag-rs of one kind or another. Of the individuals prosecuted in these cases, thirteen were presidents, twenty-six were CEOs, twenty-eight were CFOs, and fifty-nine were vice-presidents.  What happened in these cases? Of the 414 individuals, 266, or 65%, pleaded guilty.  And for-ty-two were convicted at a trial, an elevated trial rate of 10%.  How were convicts sentenced for these corporate crimes? The average sentence, including those who received probation but no jail time, was eighteen months. As I will describe, that is somewhat lower than aver-age sentences for many of the relevant federal crimes. The average sentence among those who did receive jail time was higher—forty months.  But it was only 42% or 128 of the 308 individuals convicted (266 who pleaded guilty and 42 who were convicted at trial) who received any jail time.  This is a low imprisonment rate.  To be sure, many convicts paid large fines. Of the individuals prosecuted, 144 individuals were fined, with an average fine of $382,000. 

Of still greater concern was the large number of prosecution losses: 15% of the cases were unsuccessful, which, as I will develop in Part I, is far higher than what is typical in federal white-collar prosecutions.  Fifty-two individuals had charges dismissed pretrial. Eleven were ac-quitted at trial.  Still other cases were not ultimately successful; nine had convictions reversed on appeal.  In addition, forty individuals were charged but have not been convicted, either because the cases are still pending, or individuals are fugitives or have not been successfully extradited. 

“There is no such thing as too big to jail,” Attorney General Eric Holder announced in a stern video message in May 2014, underscoring that no financial institution “should be considered immune from prosecution.”  Yet it is increasingly common to hear complaints, including from prominent politicians, judges, journalists, and academic commentators, that the government “has prosecuted only a handful of individuals in the Wall Street meltdown of 2008.”  Presidential candidate Hillary Clinton has said, “Even though some institutions have paid fines and even admitted guilt, too often it seems like the people responsible get off with limited consequences (or none at all).”  The concerns have also been raised in areas of federal criminal practice unrelated to banks or to the causes of the financial crisis. For example, then-Senator Arlen Specter asked in 2010 hearings why no employees of Siemens were prosecuted for foreign bribery violations after the company paid record fines to settle a Foreign Corrupt Practices Act (“FCPA”) prosecution. Senator Spector asked, “[W]ho’s going to jail?”  (Subsequently eight employees were indicted, but none have to date been extradited to the United States.)  In environmental prosecutions, critics have also asked why executives have not been targeted following deadly spills, mine explosions, and other disasters.

Federal Judge Jed Rakoff has offered a prominent critique of this problem, arguing that prosecutors are too quick to settle corporate cases on lenient terms after hasty investigations; he concludes that prosecuting individuals would be more effective than “imposing internal compliance measures that are often little more than window-dressing.”  Professor Dan Richman has added that “simplistic clamoring for more heads” will not address an underlying need for “more systemic regulatory reforms.”  Still others have long argued that corporate criminal li-ability standards should be altered, sharply limited, or even abolished as inconsistent with the purposes of criminal law.  Whether the allure of individual prosecutions substitutes for efforts to provide sound regulation of corporations, much less prosecution of noncompliant corporations remains an important subject.

The relative lack of individual prosecutions raises a puzzle: One might expect it to be far easier for prosecutors to bring white-collar cases when they benefit from the company’s cooperation. Companies typically agree to fully cooperate with investigations that may continue long after the firm settles its case. Companies conduct detailed internal investigations, turn over documents, records, and emails, and they agree to produce employees for interviews.  DOJ officials began to respond to critics with remarks in 2014 that highlighted the importance of “true” corporate cooperation that provides “evidence against” the “culpable individuals.”  In September 2015, the DOJ released a new memorandum, amending its guidelines to reflect a focus on individual accountability for corporate crimes, stating, among other changes, that no longer will corporations receive any credit for cooperation without providing all relevant facts regarding individual misconduct.  The DOJ also acknowledged “many substantial challenges unique to pursuing individuals for corporate misdeeds.”  Despite the remarkable access prosecutors can obtain from companies, prosecutors still often do not succeed in holding individuals accountable. Moreover, there is a separate scapegoating concern that, when employees or individuals are charged, they may be identified based on the information the company offered to prosecutors. The higher-ups, who may control negotiations with prosecutors, may themselves remain above the fray while lower-level employees are “thrown under the bus.”

After detailing these empirical findings, this Article turns in Part II to explaining why it is that corporate prosecutions are not associated with many successful individual prosecutions. Critics are right to suggest that prosecuting individuals has been a priority for some corporate crimes but not others—with, for example, antitrust being an exception. The “corporate scapegoat” problem goes to the heart of a central rationale for settling corporate prosecutions. However, there are other important rationales that I will detail in Part II of this Article. Although such cases have largely escaped criticism, it may be just as problematic or more so when only individuals are prosecuted and not the corporation. Justice is not fully served by individual prosecutions if only the company can pay adequate fines, restitution to victims, or change practices and policies to prevent future crimes. In my view, justice is served by prosecuting corporations.  But neither individual nor corporate prosecutions are necessarily a ready substitute for each other. While corporate cooperation can help overcome practical obstacles, corporate complexity raises still others, particularly regarding showing intent. Establishing culpability of individuals acting within complex organizations can be difficult. For strict liability offenses, the conduct may be easy to prove, but less worthy of prosecution due to low culpability. Prosecuting thousands of traffic tickets may make little sense—particularly if the company can pay one massive ticket to cover the social cost. Or if the conduct was very serious but committed by low-level employees, focusing on the corporation may be the best way to address the problem. Regulatory crimes may be best resolved by settling with the regulated entity. In such areas, treating the corporation as the scapegoat makes eminent sense.

In Part III, I will explore three types of reforms. First, I will examine proposals to enact new substantive crimes to reach complex corporate malfeasance or even financial negligence, which I view as ill advised. Instead, I will propose a series of legislative changes that may do far more good. Statutes of limitations could be extended for categories of complex corporate cases. The Speedy Trial Act could be revised to permit deferred prosecutions for corporations only if the firm cooperates to identify culpable individuals.  Sentencing statutes and guide-lines could be revised to similarly tighten requirements for corporate cooperation. Second, I will explore changes to DOJ policy and practice. In some areas, prosecutors may have rested secure having obtained a corporate settlement with eye-catching fines. Using corporate prosecutions to charge individuals—securing “more heads”—would require stricter policies and added resources for investigations and enforcement.  A third approach, emerging in a few recent cases, uses corporate settlements to change the incentives for employees and officers at the firm, using what I have termed “structural reforms” to prevent future criminality.

Despite DOJ policy that “only rarely” should “culpable individuals” not be prosecuted, far too many corporate cases lack individual prosecutions.  The uneven results in individual prosecutions that are brought illustrate why the pattern persists. However, I will conclude in this Article that, contrary to what some critics have argued, corporate prosecutions need not come at the cost of individual accountability—corporate prosecutions can and should be used to enhance individual accountability and deter corporate crime.

Corporate Inversions and the Unbundling Of Regulatory Competition

Several prominent public corporations have recently embraced a noteworthy (and newsworthy) type of transaction known as a “tax inversion.” In a typical inversion, a U.S. multinational corporation (“MNC”) merges with a foreign company. The entity that ultimately emerges from this transactional cocoon is invariably incorporated abroad, yet typically remains listed in U.S. securities markets under the erstwhile domestic issuer’s name. When structured to satisfy applicable tax requirements, corporate inversions permit domestic MNCs eventually to replace U.S. with foreign tax treatment of their extraterritorial earnings—ostensibly at far lower effective rates.

Most regulators and politicians have reacted to the inversion invasion with alarm and indignation, no doubt fearing the trend is but a harbinger of an immense offshore exodus by U.S. multinationals. This reaction, in turn, has catalyzed myriad calls for tax reform from a variety of quarters, ranging from the targeted tightening of tax eligibility criteria, to moving the United States to a territorial tax system, to declaring (yet another) tax “holiday” for corporate repatriations, to reducing significantly (if not entirely) American corporate tax rates. Like many debates in tax policy, there remains little consensus about what to do (or whether to do anything at all).

This Article analyzes the current inversion wave (and reactions to it) from both practical and theoretical perspectives. From a practical vantage point, I will argue that while the inversion invasion is certainly a cause for concern, aspiring inverters already face several constraints that may decelerate the trend naturally, without significant regulatory intervention. For example, inversions are but one of several alternative tax avoidance strategies available to MNCs—strategies whose relative merits differ widely by firm and by industry. Inversions, moreover, are invariably dilutive and usually taxable to the inverter’s U.S. shareholders, auguring potential resistance to the deals. They virtually require “strategic” (as opposed to financial) mergers between comparably sized companies, making for increasingly slim pickings when searching for a dancing partner, and a danger of overpaying simply to meet the comparable size requirements. They involve regulatory risk from competition authorities, foreign-direct-investment boards and takeover panels (not to mention from tax regulators themselves). They frequently provide only partial relief from extraterritorial application of U.S. taxes, especially for well-established U.S. multinationals. And finally, tax inversions can introduce material downstream legal risk, since they move the locus of corporate internal affairs out of conventional jurisprudential terrain and into the domain of a foreign jurisdiction whose law is—by comparison—recondite and unfamiliar.

Moving beyond these practical considerations, I will also consider the inversion wave through a theoretical lens, drawing insights from regulatory competition theories in public finance. Specifically, I will advance the notion that regulatory competition among jurisdictions can play out not only through tax policy, but also simultaneously through other nontax channels, such as corporate law and governance rules. Applying this framework, I will show that a strong domestic corporate governance regime can provide a plausible buffer against a tax-induced incorporation exodus: Although U.S. multinationals clearly dislike high tax rates, they have traditionally valued the strength of U.S. corporate law and governance, particularly within Delaware. And, since U.S. tax policy explicitly ties tax residence to the state of incorporation, domestic tax authorities have enjoyed market power in keeping rates comparatively high while attracting and retaining domestic incorporations. In other words, the United States has for a long time remained somewhat insulated from ruinous tax competition because tax residency was “bundled” with corporate law in a unitary regulatory package. Viewed from this perspective, the most radical tax reform proposals currently being championed seem overzealous at best, and may even prove counterproductive.

Nonetheless, the recent pace of inversion activity plausibly suggests that America’s traditional market power in regulatory competition has begun to slip. Although there are likely many contributing causes for this slippage, I will argue that a seemingly inconspicuous institution has played an under-acknowledged role: securities law. During the last fifteen years, a series of significant regulatory reforms—such as the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002 and the Dodd-Frank Act of 2010—have suffused U.S. securities regulations with an unprecedented array of corporate governance mandates, ranging from board independence requirements to compensation reforms to internal financial controls to proxy access. Historically, state law served as the dominant (if not sole) arbiter of corporate governance. Federal law’s creeping displacement of state law has consequently “unbundled” domestic tax law from domestic corporate governance regulation, since most U.S. securities regulations apply to all listed companies, irrespective of their tax residence. Hence, regardless of whether recent securities law reforms have been prudent or misguided, I argue that federalization has effectively (if unwittingly) undermined the United States’ ability to withstand tax competition from abroad.

If securities market regulation helped dig this hole, then might it also provide the needed tools to refill it? My analysis will suggest that it does, and that we should consider altering the regulatory landscape in two possible ways: either (1) the United States should begin to tax listed companies (regardless of residence) for their consumption of federal corporate governance law, granting allowances for U.S. corporate income taxes paid; and/or (2) federal law should cede corporate governance back to the states by rolling back the federal governance mandates of the last fifteen years. Which of these alternatives (or combination of them) is most attractive turns on several factors, including practical implementation constraints, the value (if any) created by recent federal governance mandates, and the difficulty of coordinating governmental actors at the state and federal level.

Moreover, to the extent my unbundling hypothesis is valid, it suggests that tax reform responses to “inversionitis” must also anticipate downstream implications for corporate governance. Although some modest tax reforms may be warranted (for example, measured reductions in headline tax rates), the most radical tax reform proposals currently on the table (such as moving to a territorial system, or eliminating U.S. corporate income taxes altogether) are unlikely to help, and could well prove deleterious: Not only do such radical reforms seem likely to cost the U.S. Treasury sizable future tax revenues, but they respond to the unbundling phenomenon not by rebundling tax and governance, but rather by severing the link completely. A plausible long-term effect of such radical reform strategies is that the variety and quality of corporate governance regimes worldwide will atrophy—an outcome that is as undesirable for the global economy as it is for the United States.

Several caveats deserve explicit attention before proceeding. First, this is by no means the lone article to note the simultaneous operation of tax and corporate law within a setting of international regulatory competition. Although most prior contributions compare tax competition and corporate chartering competition in relative isolation, a handful also explicitly consider their mutual interaction. Notable among them is an article by Mitchell Kane and Edward Rock, who observe that the marriage of tax residency rules with corporate law in regulatory competition can have distortive effects, inducing corporations to make inferior jurisdictional choices when incorporating in order to reduce tax liability. Concluding that such distortions undermine a competitive chartering market, they propose “severing” tax residence rules from corporate law regimes, hinging the former on the locus of firms’ real economic activity and the latter on the place of incorporation. Although I commence from a similar motivation as do Kane and Rock, my analysis will depart from theirs in several ways. They do not, for example, consider how the steady encroachment of securities law has materially altered the tax/governance competitive landscape. More significantly, my analysis will suggest that regulatory competitive forces actually push in the opposite direction from the Kane/Rock proposal. In other words, even if differential tax levies “distort” incorporation choices, the bundling of corporate governance and tax regimes can make chartering competition more (not less) robust, affording jurisdictions a means by which to appropriate some of the social value created by their investments in legal/regulatory infrastructure—incentivizing them in the process to differentiate their governance/tax offerings, thereby enriching the portfolio of choices available to companies and adding to overall economic welfare.

Second, as noted above, this Article uses a regulatory competition framework to analyze how tax and corporate law may evolve simultaneously. That framework allows for the possibility that such competition can motivate at least some jurisdictions to “race to the top” by installing and maintaining governance regimes that increase firm value and attract incorporations. While some version of this view is common within the academic literature, others are more pessimistic about the merits of jurisdictional competition in corporate law, arguing, for instance, that because managers steer incorporation decisions, competition will tend to “race to the bottom,” catering to managerial preferences, not overall company value (or even share value). Still others have expressed ambivalence about whether either extreme account tends to prevail categorically. The analytical framework developed below is broad enough to allow for any of these possibilities, including settings where agency costs dominate incorporation choices for some firms, inducing some jurisdictions to use their bundled taxing authority to extract a portion of the managerial value they create. Indeed, at its most general level, my analysis presumes a type of hybrid setting where some companies are attracted to corporate governance regimes that maximize overall company value, while others prefer systems that cosset managerial interests.

Third, my analysis will generally presume that jurisdictions set policies noncooperatively, so as to serve their individual jurisdictional interests. While such an approach is a serviceable description of the status quo, it downplays the possibility of cooperative accords struck between otherwise competing jurisdictions that would effectively neutralize—or at least dampen—the oppositional landscape (for example, international accords among OECD countries setting uniform policies on tax rates or profit shifting). Such cooperative approaches could have desirable characteristics (at least in some circumstances), and they are certainly worth considering. It nevertheless remains an open question whether such accords are attainable in the short term and durable over the medium to long term. In any event, my analysis is perhaps better viewed as assessing an appropriate response for the United States in the absence of (or as a backstop to) such international accords.

Finally, it is important to note that the progressive federalization of corporate law chronicled here has not taken place in isolation. Rather, it is one of several pertinent changes to the strategic landscape surrounding comparative corporate governance and tax over the last decade and a half. Most conspicuously, several developed countries outside the United States have progressively walked down their own headline tax rates during this time, gradually enlarging the evident “gap” between American tax rates and those of its closest international comparators. Along with the stockpile of retained foreign earnings that American MNCs have steadily built up, this widening gap in headline rates has no doubt altered the economic calculus that underlies inversion decisions. My argument is not that the federalization of governance has been more important than these tax changes in driving inversions per se, but rather that it has greatly facilitated and simplified that calculus: Governance federalization has materially reduced the incremental costs of inverting, just as comparative tax changes have gradually enhanced the corresponding benefits. These simultaneous forces, I argue, have reinforced one another (perhaps unwittingly and unnecessarily). An appropriate regulatory response, therefore, should be mindful of both of them as well.

The remainder of this Article will proceed as follows: Part I will provide a high-level overview of how the corporate tax system in the United States interacts with the structuring of both foreign and domestic MNCs. Of particular interest here are the creative (yet fragile) ways that domestic MNCs utilize special ownership structures and intercompany transactions—short of an inversion—to minimize and/or defer tax liabilities. While such strategies can be effective, they can also impose risks and costs. In Part II, I will add inversion calculus to the mix, documenting the advantages such transactions can sometimes have over more traditional tax management techniques. At the same time, however, the relative advantages of inversions simply do not translate to all firms and all settings. The Part will close by describing how securities law has, over the last fifteen years, incrementally displaced and preempted state corporate law through a series of federal corporate governance mandates. Notably, these mandates apply to all public companies, whether incorporated/taxed in the United States or not. Part III will turn to my core conceptual arguments, presenting and analyzing a simple, game-theoretic framework for analyzing multi-attribute regulatory competition in tax and corporate governance offerings. Here I will demonstrate how a leader in providing strong corporate law and governance rules (such as the United States) may be able to withstand even substantial international tax competition without being drawn into a ruinous arms race in setting tax rates. Significantly, however, my analytic framework will expose a key necessary condition for the United States to enjoy such competitive insulation: It must be able to bundle tax and nontax regulatory attributes into a single, conjoined regulatory package. Troublingly, many of the most radical reform efforts recently proposed lose sight of this point, and they would ultimately have the effect of unbundling tax and governance even further. Myopic attention to tax competition, while eschewing its interaction with other regulatory dimensions, is both shortsighted and misguided. Part IV then applies the insights of this framework, considering two plausible reform approaches from a securities market perspective.