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.

Patent Trolls and Preemption

In September 2012, eighty-one companies with nonsensical names such as CleOrv, DucPla, and EntNil began sending letters to over 16,000 businesses throughout the United States. The letters stated that the sender was the “licensing agent” for several U.S. patents that cover the use of an office scanner to send documents via e-mail. The letters noted that the recipient “almost certainly uses” that technology and that, accordingly, the recipient “should enter into a license agreement with us at this time” at a “fair price” of approximately $1,200 per employee. Many recipients of that letter received two subsequent letters from a Texas-based law firm, Farney Daniels. The first letter noted that the matter had been referred to the firm and that its representation “can involve litigation.” The second letter stated bluntly that “if we do not hear from you within two weeks from the date of this letter, our client will be forced to file a Complaint against you for patent infringement in Federal District Court.” This second letter also included a draft complaint against the recipient.

It turns out that CleOrv, DucPla, EntNil, and the other companies asserting patent infringement are all subsidiaries of another company, MPHJ Technology Investments, which is controlled by a Texas lawyer named Jay Mac Rust. Patent holders such as MPHJ have been called “bottom feeder” patent trolls: They assert patents against numerous potential infringers, relying on the high cost of threatened litigation to extract quick settlements. Notably, bottom feeder trolls such as MPHJ have begun to target not the manufacturers of allegedly infringing technology, but the businesses, organizations, and individuals who are the end users of that technology. For instance, patent trolls have sent letters to thousands of hotels and restaurants, claiming that those businesses committed patent infringement by using wireless technology to make Internet service available to their customers. Another patent troll sent letters to numerous construction companies claiming infringement of a patent on the use of a “moisture removal system”—that is, a fan—to dry lumber during construction.

These enforcement campaigns are troubling because, if the patents are as broad as their owners claim, they may be invalid due to the Patent Act’s requirements of novelty and nonobviousness. Yet the nature of the enforcement behavior is also disturbing. Many demand letters are sent to entities, such as nonprofits, municipal governments, and small businesses that are unfamiliar with patent litigation and that may find it too costly to investigate the merit of the patent claims or to fight the infringement allegations. Indeed, the letters sent by bottom feeders are designed to intimidate the recipient into quickly purchasing a license. MPHJ’s lawyers, for example, threatened to file suit unless the recipient responded within two weeks. But those threats often are deceptive or false. MPHJ, for instance, did not file a single infringement suit for several months after the final letters were sent, suggesting that it never intended to litigate at all. When MPHJ finally did file suit, it did so only after numerous state attorneys general had begun investigating the company’s enforcement tactics.

In response to these campaigns, legislatures in over half the states have passed statutes outlawing certain acts of patent enforcement. In a majority of those states, the new laws are modeled after a statute first adopted in Vermont, which prohibits “bad faith” assertions of patent infringement. Other states have outlawed assertions that “contain false, misleading, or deceptive information” or have defined specific acts as illegal, such as making infringement assertions that “lack a reasonable basis in fact or law” or failing to provide, in a letter alleging patent infringement, “factual allegations” about how, exactly, the recipient infringes the patent. Most of the new statutes create a private right of action for the targets of unlawful infringement assertions and all of the statutes allow for enforcement by state officials, such as the state attorney general. In addition, state attorneys general have begun to use long-existing state laws, such as consumer protection statutes and deceptive trade practices laws, to challenge schemes of patent enforcement.

Although patents are usually thought to be the domain of the federal government alone, Congress has only recently begun to consider bills that would outlaw unfair or deceptive patent demand letters. The states’ growing role in the patent system is reflected on the website of the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, which counsels persons who receive demand letters that are “deceptive, predatory, or in bad faith” to, among other things, “fil[e] a complaint with your state attorney general’s office.” The states, by taking aggressive steps to regulate patent enforcement, are thus poised to erode the federal government’s monopoly over the patent system.

Doctrines of federal constitutional law, however, may invalidate the new state statutes and limit the law enforcement authority of state officials. For decades, businesses and individuals accused of patent infringement have tried to assert state law tort claims against overzealous patent holders, but the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit, which has exclusive appellate jurisdiction over patent cases, has held that those claims are mostly preempted by the federal Patent Act. According to the Federal Circuit, to avoid preemption, the accused infringer must prove not only the elements of its state law claim, it must also prove, by clear and convincing evidence, (1) that the patent holder’s infringement allegations were “objectively baseless,” meaning that no reasonable litigant could have expected to succeed, and (2) that the patent holder made its infringement allegations with knowledge of their inaccuracy or with reckless disregard for their accuracy. Cases challenging the constitutionality of the new state statutes and state law enforcement actions are just getting underway. But the Federal Circuit’s two-part test will almost certainly prohibit the states from condemning any but the most frivolous assertions of patent infringement. This Article argues, however, that the Federal Circuit’s preemption rule is wrong as a matter of doctrine, is misguided as a matter of policy, and ignores important lessons from the history of patent enforcement.

As a matter of doctrine, courts usually identify the Constitution’s Supremacy Clause as the source of preemption law, and the Federal Circuit has sometimes invoked the Supremacy Clause as grounds for immunizing acts of patent enforcement from state law liability. A closer examination of Federal Circuit case law, however, reveals that the most significant constitutional barrier to state regulation of patent enforcement is not preemption pursuant to the Supremacy Clause; it is the Federal Circuit’s erroneous interpretation of the First Amendment’s Petition Clause.

Under an orthodox, Supremacy Clause-based preemption analysis, state laws regulating patent enforcement likely avoid preemption. Although the state laws create some disuniformity in the patent system, they arguably do not conflict with the core objectives of federal patent law, such as incentivizing invention and inducing the disclosure of inventions. And it is difficult to say that federal law fully occupies the field of patent-enforcement regulation: The Patent Act is entirely silent on the issue of unfair or deceptive enforcement—it neither condemns nor immunizes it. Moreover, courts have consistently refused to find field preemption of state law tort claims that impose liability on patent holders. Rather than analyzing preemption under the Supremacy Clause, however, the Federal Circuit has imported as its preemption test the nearly insurmountable requirements imposed by the Supreme Court on plaintiffs who seek to inflict antitrust liability on defendants based on those defendants’ pursuit of litigation. This doctrine, often called the Noerr-Pennington doctrine (or Noerr doctrine, for short), stems from the Supreme Court’s interpretation of the federal antitrust statute, the Sherman Act, in the light of the First Amendment’s Petition Clause.

To strip an antitrust defendant of the immunity conferred by the Noerr doctrine, the plaintiff must show that the defendant’s underlying lawsuit was a “sham” by proving both that the lawsuit was objectively baseless and that it was filed with the subjective intent to impair competition. The Federal Circuit, in adopting as its preemption rule the same requirements of objective baselessness and subjective bad intent, has thus expanded Noerr immunity by allowing patent holders to invoke the doctrine to avoid any type of civil liability, not just liability under the antitrust laws, based on any conduct related to patent enforcement, not just the pursuit of litigation. This expansion of Noerr immunity is a mistake. Letters sent from one private party to another, such as letters threatening patent infringement litigation, are not “petition[s]” to “the government” within the meaning of the First Amendment. Moreover, the Federal Circuit’s use of Noerr as a preemption rule gets the federalism analysis exactly backwards. The Supreme Court has often articulated a presumption against preemption, but the Federal Circuit insists that a patent holder seeking to avoid preemption “has a heavy burden to carry.”

The Federal Circuit’s erroneous expansion of Noerr immunity is not only wrong as a matter of doctrine, it also has several destructive policy implications. For instance, it grants patent holders a license to lie in their demand letters, so long as those letters also contain objectively plausible allegations of infringement. Thus, patent holders can lawfully send letters stating that many recipients have already purchased licenses to the asserted patents even if, in fact, few if any recipients have done so. And patent holders can lawfully claim that the validity of the asserted patents have been upheld in court or in reexamination at the Patent and Trademark Office, even if that is not true. In addition, because the Federal Circuit purports to derive its Noerr-based immunity standard from the First Amendment, that standard makes it unconstitutional for not just states but also the federal government to condemn any but the most fantastical allegations of patent infringement. Thus, although the President, members of Congress, and the Federal Trade Commission have all recently voiced concerns about “patent trolls,” Federal Circuit law significantly limits the regulatory options.

Fortunately, history provides a useful lesson on how courts can strike an appropriate balance between protecting patent holders from liability when they make legitimate allegations of infringement and punishing patent holders when they engage in unfair or deceptive enforcement tactics. Specifically, a long line of federal judicial decisions—which the Federal Circuit has mostly ignored—addresses the precise question of when a patent holder may be held liable for its enforcement conduct. As early as the nineteenth century, courts sitting in equity enjoined patent holders from making infringement assertions in bad faith, which could be established through evidence of the patent holder’s “malicious intent.” Although a patent holder’s intent is a subjective question, courts often inferred subjective intent from objective evidence, such as the patent holder’s threatening a large number of accused infringers and the patent holder’s failure to follow its threats with actual lawsuits. This flexible, equity-based immunity standard—as opposed to the rigid two-part test mandated by the Federal Circuit—would empower all three branches of government at both the state and federal levels to impose reasonable restrictions on patent enforcement. At the same time, cases in which enforcement conduct was enjoined under the traditional standard were usually egregious and often involved claims that were objectively weak on the merits, so a revitalized good faith immunity doctrine would protect patent holders’ ability to provide legitimate notice of their patent rights.

This Article is the first to consider whether the new state statutes are constitutional. By showing how current Federal Circuit doctrine could quash those innovative reforms, and by offering an alternative to the Federal Circuit’s onerous Noerr-based immunity rule, this Article contributes to an important and on-going policy conversation as additional states, as well as the federal government, contemplate steps to fight abusive patent enforcement.

This Article will begin in Part I by outlining the state laws relevant to patent enforcement, including the new state statutes. Part II will then explore the bodies of federal law that potentially nullify those state laws, namely, preemption doctrine under the Supremacy Clause and doctrines of petitioning immunity derived from the First Amendment. Part III will reexamine the relevant Federal Circuit case law, showing that the key limit on the states’ ability to regulate patent enforcement is not preemption but the Federal Circuit’s flawed interpretation of the First Amendment. Part IV will explore the practical consequences of conferring broad immunity on patent holders’ assertions of infringement, highlighting the limited power that both state governments and the federal government have under Federal Circuit law. Finally, Part V will outline ways in which Federal Circuit law should be reformed to provide governments the ability to outlaw unfair and deceptive schemes of patent enforcement.