Three critiques of the notion that private equity's actions are above public concern.
The question of Romney's tenure at private equity firm Bain Capital will stay in the headlines as the Obama team releases ads on the subject and Romney continues to run on that record. But what can we take away from this debate?
Ezra Klein argues that running a leveraged buyout company ought to give one some sense of solidarity with those left behind. As LBO/private equity creates winners and losers, winners should be in favor of an expanded social safety net that helps those who lose in the layoffs get back on their feet with minimial disruptions. Since LBO overall creates more wealth, part of that wealth should be taxed for the benefit of those who need help adjusting to their new economic reality afterwards - such as providing continuous health care coverage, job training, etc.
One thing I'm noticing in these debates is an almost tautological idea that since shareholders own the firm, anything shareholders do with their firm is legitimate and outside the boundaries of public concern or critique. It was in the background of what Karl Smith was discussing on Sunday's "Up With Chris Hayes," and Josh Barro made it more explicit this morning on twitter.
Let's imagine that I buy a stick. Under a idea of general, everyday libertarianism, since I own the stick I can do anything I want with it. I can break it in half, burn it in a fireplace, carve it into something else, turn it into woodchips, attach a kite to it, exclude people from using it, etc. I can't hit people with it, or use it to set their stuff on fire, or attach duct tape to it in order to steal their stuff - but that's a function of general prohibitions against force and fraud. Short of that, it would be weird to say that I shouldn't do whatever I want to my stick of wood - that something I do with it could be illegitimate - as long as I enjoy it.
But does a private equity firm own its portfolio businesses in the same exact way that I own my stick? Is it weird to even think, outside general prohibitions against force and fraud (which I'll treat as unproblematic as it relates to the question at hand), that their actions could be illegitimate? There are many references to increasing profits, or making firms more dynamic, or "creative destruction," but those are side effects of shareholders doing whatever they want with its portfolio. The core issue is that there could be nothing illegitimate in terms of how a private equity firm runs those businesses in the sense there's nothing illegitimate I could do with a stick I own.
Starting from this baseline, the critiques as far as I read them (which will draw on two previous posts) break down along three lines:
1. Tax/regulatory loopholes. I did an interview with Josh Kosman, author of The Buyout of America, where he argued that the whole point of the enterprise is to game tax law loopholes. Private equity "saw that you could buy a company through a leveraged buyout and radically reduce its tax rate. The company then could use those savings to pay off the increase in its debt loads. For every dollar that the company paid off in debt, your equity value rises by that same dollar, as long as the value of the company remains the same."
A recent paper from the University of Chicago looking at private equity found that “a reasonable estimate of the value of lower taxes due to increased leverage for the 1980s might be 10 to 20 percent of ﬁrm value,” which is value that comes from taxpayers to private equity as a result of the tax code.
That's one thing in an industry with large and predictable cash flows. But after those low-hanging fruits were picked, as Kosman explained, "firms are taken over in very volatile industries. And they are taking on debts where they have to pay 15 times their cash flow over seven years — they are way over-levered."
This critique has power as far as it goes. But let's combine it with another issue.
2. Risk-shifting among parts of the firm. Traditional "creative destruction" is about putting rivals out of business with better products and techniques. Leveraged buyouts and private equity are about something different, something that exists within a single firm. This is often described as putting new techniques into place, firing people and divisions that are not performing, and generally making the firm more efficient.
The critique here is that, instead of making the firm more efficient, it often simply shifts the risks into different places. As Peter Róna, head of the IBJ Schroder Bank & Trust in New York, described it in 1989:
The very foundation of the LBO is the current actual distribution of hypothetical future cash flows. If the hypothesis (including the author’s net present value discounted at the relevant cost of capital) tums out to be wrong, the shareholders have the cash and everyone else is left with a carcass. “Creating shareholder value” and “unlocking billions” consists of shifting the risk of future uncertainty to others, namely, the corporation and its current creditors, customers, and employees…The notion that underleveraging a corporation can cause problems is neither new nor unfounded. What is new is the assertion that shareholders shouid set the proper leverage because, motivated by maximizing the return on their investment, they will ensure efficiency of all factors of production. This hypothesis requires much more rigorous proof than Jensen’s episodic arguments… although Jensen denies it, the maximization of shareholder returns must take place, at least in part, at someone else’s expense.
If you look at the dividends stuff that private equity firms do, and Bain is one of the worst offenders, if you increase the short-term earnings of a company you then use those new earnings to borrow more money. That money goes right back to the private equity firm in dividends, making it quite a quick profit. More importantly, most companies can’t handle that debt load twice. Just as they are in a position to reduce debt, they are getting hit with maximum leverage again. It’s very hard for companies to take that hit twice...The initial private equity model was that you would make money by reselling your company or taking it public, not by levering it a second time...Right after this goes on for a few years, you’ve starved your firm of human and operating capital. Five years later, when the private equity leaves, the company will collapse — you can’t starve a company for that long. This is what the history of private equity shows.
This runup in dividend payouts is feature of the post 1980 financial markets more broadly, one that LBO had a hand in creating:
The blue line is profits, the solid red line is payouts. As Josh Mason noted (my bold), "In the pre-neoliberal era, up until 1980 or so, nonfinancial businesses paid out about 40 percent of their profits to shareholders. But in most of the years since 1980, they’ve paid out more than all of them...It was a common trope in accounts of the housing bubble that greedy or shortsighted homeowners were extracting equity from their houses with second mortgages or cash-out refinancings to pay for extra consumption. What nobody mentioned was that the rentier class had been doing this longer, and on a much larger scale, to the country’s productive enterprises."
Versions of these three arguments form the core of the private equity critique. Instead of simply carving a figurine or starting a BBQ, private equity uses its stick to game tax law while cashing out short-term value, leaving others in the firm worse off and the firm itself more prone to collapse and less able to produce long-term value. Do you find this critique convincing? What else is missing?
Mike Konczal is a Fellow at the Roosevelt Institute.