After the Repeal of the U.S. Publish-What-You-Pay Rule, What Happens Next?

As most readers of this blog are likely aware, despite the valiant lobbying efforts of a broad and bipartisan swath of the anticorruption community (as well as a last-minute plug from GAB), the United States House and Senate recently passed a joint resolution, pursuant to a statute called the Congressional Review Act (CRA), to repeal the “Publish What You Pay” (PWYP) rules for the extractive sector (oil, gas, mining) that the Securities & Exchange Commission (SEC) had promulgated pursuant to a statutory mandate contained in Section 1504 of the 2010 Dodd-Frank Act. Once President Trump signs the CRA joint resolution disapproving the PWYP rule, it is wiped off the books. Professor Bonnie Palifka’s post last week explained some of the reasons why PWYP rules are so important to fighting corruption in the extractive sector, and why this repeal is the first sign that the new administration, and the Republican-controlled Congress, threaten to undermine U.S. anticorruption efforts and leadership. (For another very good analysis along similar lines, see here.) What I want to do in this post is to consider a somewhat more specific question: What are the implications of the CRA repeal of the SEC rule for the implementation of the Dodd-Frank Act’s PWYP mandate going forward?

This turns out to be a tricky legal question, involving some unexplored and untested issues concerning the relationship between the Dodd-Frank Act, the implementing regulations, and the CRA. Let me start with a quick summary of the key legal provisions, keeping this as non-technical as possible: Continue reading

Why the Repeal of the U.S. Publish-What-You-Pay Rule Is a Major Setback for Combating Corruption in the Extractive Sector

Bonnie J. Palifka, Assistant Professor of Economics at Mexico’s Tecnológico de Monterrey (ITESM) contributes today’s guest post:

Last Friday, following the U.S. House of Representatives, the Senate voted to repeal a Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) regulation that required oil, gas, and minerals companies to make public (on interactive websites) their payments to foreign governments, including taxes, royalties, and “other” payments. The rule was mandated by Section 1504 of the 2010 Dodd-Frank Act, but had only been finalized last year. President Trump’s expected signature of the congressional resolution repealing the rule will represent a major blow to anticorruption efforts, and a demonstration of just how little corruption matters to his administration and to Congressional Republicans.

The extractive industry had lobbied against this rule, arguing that having to report such payments is costly to firms and puts them at an international disadvantage. Some commentators have supported their efforts, arguing, for example, that the Section 1504 rules are unnecessary because the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act (FCPA) already prohibits firms under SEC jurisdiction—including extractive industry firms—from paying bribes abroad. This argument misses the mark: The extractive sector poses especially acute and distinctive corruption risks, which the FCPA alone is unlikely to remedy if not accompanied by greater transparency. Continue reading

The Impending Repeal of the U.S. “Publish What You Pay” Rules for Extractive Industries

As many readers of this blog are likely aware, the U.S. Congress is poised to invoke a statute called the “Congressional Review Act” to override the rules that the Securities and Exchange Commission promulgated last year to implement a provision of the Dodd-Frank Act (Section 1504) that required companies in the extractive industries (oil, gas, and mining) to publicly disclose the amounts that they pay to foreign governments in connection with projects abroad. (A timeline of the legislation and its implementing regs is here.)

The vote is scheduled for this coming Monday. Like many in the anticorruption community, I think eliminating the Publish What You Pay (PWYP) regs would be a bad idea. Alas, I don’t have time to write up a substantive discussion of the issue before the Monday vote. Fortunately, there are already a fair number of discussions of the issue elsewhere; for example, Jodi Vitori of Global Witness, who previously served as an intelligence officer in the Air Force, has a succinct explanation of why eliminating these PWYP rules would be bad for U.S. national security here.

While I usually don’t use this blog to engage in direct activism/advocacy, in this case I wanted to reach out to those GAB readers who are based in the U.S., particularly those whose representatives are Republicans, and encourage you to call your House Representative and Senator to express your opposition to the invalidation of the rules implementing Section 1504. (If you’re not sure who your House Representative is, you can find that here, and you can find a list of contact information here. Senate contact information is here.)

Community Development Agreements: A New Anticorruption Tool?

Projects in the extractive industries are often enormous, long-lasting, multi-billion dollar affairs. Given the disruption, potential for environmental disaster, and permanent changes in the state of the land, these projects tend to generate conflict and controversy, especially in low-income countries, where citizens may enjoy fewer legal protections. As a way to mitigate these risks, some nations require extractive firms to enter into “Community Development Agreements” (CDAs) with local communities. (CDAs—which are also sometimes known as Benefit Sharing Agreements, Impact Benefit Agreements, or Community Joint Ventures—are sometimes voluntary corporate social responsibility initiatives, but my focus here is on CDAs that are required by, and incorporated into, national regulatory frameworks.) At the most general level, CDAs are created through a process that engages local populations in important decision-making about the project and its profits. The process varies, but usually includes the following steps:

  • Identify the people who will be affected
  • Allow those identified to determine what the community could gain from the project (whether that be jobs, money, education, infrastructure, long-term benefits, etc.)
  • Write a CDA that encompasses the demands of the community and aligns with regulatory requirements
  • Provide monitoring tools to the affected population
  • Set up dispute resolution systems
  • Strategize for how to prepare the population for the end of the project’s lifespan.

This process takes time and can be expensive. But extractive projects typically last for decades, and so building a sustainable relationship with the local population is vital to the project’s success. After all, many corporations fund similar stakeholder engagement processes without being required by law to do so. That is because CDAs can be a good business decision: empowering the community allows the company to avoid violent conflict and signaling that the firm is a good corporate citizen.

For those countries that do require a CDA for extractive projects, the law also regulates the substantive terms, requiring CDA contracts to contain certain clauses–typically monitoring components, dispute resolution mechanisms, and local spending or employment quotas. However, one thing that is never included in a CDA is an anticorruption clause. The words “bribery” or “corruption” appear nowhere in the World Bank’s model CDA agreement, and the Columbia Center on Sustainable Investment (CCSI) is silent on the issue. Building on recent work by Abiola Makinwa and James Gathii, I posit that CDAs should include anticorruption clauses, to empower private citizens in fighting corruption in public contracts. The basic idea is to allow the recognized community members—those covered by the CDAs—as “third party beneficiaries” to the contract between the government and the extractive company. The community members would then be entitled to sue if there was corruption in the making or execution of the contract.
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US Courts’ Evaluation of Foreign Judicial Corruption: Different Stages, Different Standards

Last August, a US appeals court may have finally brought to a close a case that the court described as “among the most extensively chronicled in the history of the American federal judiciary”: a lawsuit, initially filed in 1993, seeking damages for adverse environmental and health consequences of oil exploration and drilling by Texaco (later acquired by Chevron) in the Ecuadorian Amazon. Chevron and the plaintiffs each have their own version of the long, complicated, and contentious litigation. (For a concise, relatively balanced summary see here.) For present purposes, the essential facts are as follows: After eight years of US litigation, in 2001 Chevron persuaded a US court to send the case to Ecuador. In 2011, after an additional decade of litigation in Ecuador, the Ecuadorian courts ultimately found in favor of the plaintiffs, ordering Chevron to pay an $18.5 billion judgment (later reduced to $9 billion). Unfortunately for the plaintiffs, Chevron doesn’t have any assets in Ecuador, so the plaintiffs have been trying to enforce their judgment in a number of other jurisdictions, including the United States. In its August ruling, the US appeals court affirmed the district court’s 2014 holding that the Ecuadorian judgment could not be enforced in the United States because it was a product of fraud and corruption—including the shocking finding that plaintiff’s attorneys had bribed the judge with a promise of $500,000, and ghostwrote the multi-billion dollar judgment.

At first glance, there appears to be a contradiction, or at least a tension, between how the US courts treated allegations of judicial corruption in Ecuador at two different stages in the proceedings. After all, Chevron was able to successfully persuade a US court to send the case to Ecuador in 2001 because Chevron had successfully argued that Ecuador’s judiciary was sufficiently insulated from corruption to prevent injustice, yet in the most recent ruling, Chevron convinced the court not to enforce the judgment on the grounds of judicial corruption in an Ecuadorian court. But what might at first glance appear to be a contradictory set of rulings can be explained by the fact that US courts apply divergent standards when assessing judicial corruption at different stages of litigation.  Continue reading

Guest Post: The Long, Long Road from Talking Transparency to Curbing Corruption in Mauritania

GAB is delighted to welcome back Till Bruckner, an international development expert who recently spent six months living Mauritania, and contributes the following guest post based on his experience there:

What do fish and iron have in common? Answer: Mauritania, a largely desert country of less than four million people in north-western Africa, is immensely rich in both. At the same time, most Mauritanians are poor. And one of the biggest reasons is corruption and misgovernance.

Consider first fishing. Although Mauritania has some of the world’s richest fishing grounds, its marine wealth is carried away by foreign ships whose owners often bribe senior government figures to obtain fishing permits and take their catch straight to Europe or Asia. As a result, the country has failed to develop a significant fishing industry, or domestic fish processing industry, of its own, and a fishing industry that boasts an annual catch of half a million tons generates a mere 40,000 jobs inside Mauritania. Yet to the south, Senegal translates a catch of similar size into at least 130,000 jobs, while to the north, Morocco has turned its million-ton-a-year catch into a massive export industry whose turnover is projected to reach two billion dollars by the end of this decade.

Inland, deep in the Sahara, some mountains contain more metal than rock, consisting of up to 75% iron, one of the highest concentrations in the world. Mauritania nationalized its iron mines in 1974, creating the state-owned monopoly company SNIM. Its workers blast the slopes to rubble, and conveyor belts transport the rubble into waiting railway waggons. The longest train in the world then chugs its way across 700 kilometres of desert, loads its cargo onto giant foreign freighters—and neither the ore nor most of the money paid for it are ever seen again. The looting dynamics in Mauritania’s mining sector are illustrated by the stark contrast between Zouerate, the town in the Sahara where the iron is mined—which looks like a dystopian hellhole straight out of a Mad Max film—and the rich suburbs of the capital city of Nouakchott (which produces virtually nothing), where giant villas rise out of the sand, and oversized SUVs cruise the streets. And in Nouakchott itself, in the poor suburbs, families living five to a windowless room have to pay for their drinking water by the barrel.

The preferred prescription in a situation like this (from the usual suspects: development professionals, anticorruption activists, etc.) is a combination of transparency, accountability, and civil society monitoring. But Mauritania is actually doing well on those dimensions. Continue reading

Diamonds are an Autocrat’s Best Friend: Corruption in Zimbabwe’s Mining Industry

Earlier this month, Robert Mugabe, Zimbabwe’s president of nearly 30 years, announced his intention to nationalize diamond mining. He explained the decision by blaming corruption in the industry for “robbing [the Zimbabwean people] of our wealth,” estimating the government’s loss in the past seven years as upwards of $13 billion. For a country with an annual budget of $4 billion, 30% of which comes from the money that does make its way from the diamond mines to the government’s coffers through taxes and other fees, this move has enormous economic significance. Factor in Zimbabwe’s recent attempts to convince international donors and investors that its basket case economic days are behind it, and the ripple effects of Mugabe’s decision are likely to be even more important.

Undoubtedly, Mugabe is right about one thing: there’s been plenty of corruption surrounding the diamonds of Marange, a district in eastern Zimbabwe, since the 2006 realization that the pebble-like objects “so common that children were using them in their catapults to shoot birds” actually represented “the richest diamond field ever seen by several orders of magnitude.” The trouble is that Mugabe is the one mostly responsible for that corruption. In fact, this nationalization plan is best understood as the next step in Mugabe’s utilization of corruption at the mines for his own benefit.

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