Though privileged firms may not focus on it when they obtain their favors, privilege almost always come with strings attached. And these strings can sometimes be quite debilitating. Call it one of the pathologies of government-granted privilege.
Perhaps the best statement of this comes from the man whose job it was to pull the strings on TARP recipients. In 2009, Kai Ryssdal of Marketplace interviewed Kenneth Feinberg. The Washington compensation guru had just been appointed to oversee compensation practices among the biggest TARP recipients. Here is how he described his powers:
Ryssdal: How much power do you have in your new job?
FEINBERG: Well, the law grants to the secretary who delegates to me the authority to determine compensation packages for 175 senior executives of the seven largest corporate top recipients. The law also permits me, or requires me, to design compensation programs for these recipients, governing overall compensation of every senior official. And finally, the law gives me great discretion in deciding whether I should seek to recoup funds that have already been distributed to executives by top recipients. So it’s a substantial delegation of power to one person.
Another example of shackles following shekels comes from Maryland. That state has doled out over $20 million in tax privileges to a film production company called MRC. MRC films House of Cards, a show about a remarkably corrupt politician named Frank Underwood. The goal of these privileges was to “induce” (others might call it bribe) MRC to film House of Cards in Maryland. One problem (among many) with targeted privileges like this is that there is no guarantee that the induced firm will stay induced; there’s nothing to keep it from coming back for more.
In this case, MRC executives recently sent a letter to Governor Martin O’Malley threatening to “break down our stage, sets and offices and set up in another state” if “sufficient incentives do not become available.” Chagrined, state Delegate William Frick came up with a plan to seize the company’s assets through eminent domain. It is clear that Delegate Frick’s intention was to shackle the company. He told the Washington Post:
I literally thought: What is an appropriate Frank Underwood response to a threat like this?…Eminent domain really struck me as the most dramatic response.
As George Mason University’s Ilya Somin aptly puts it:
But even if the courts would uphold this taking, it is extremely foolish policy. State governments rarely condemn mobile property, for the very good reason that if they try to do so, the owners can simply take it out of the jurisdiction – a lesson Maryland should have learned when it tried to condemn the Baltimore Colts to keep them from leaving back in 1984. Moreover, other businesses are likely to avoid bringing similar property into the state in the first place.
My colleague Chris Koopman notes that there are also a number of practical problems with this proposal. The only real property the state could seize from MRC would be its filming equipment: its cameras, its lights, maybe a set piece or two. And by the U.S. Constitution, it would have to offer MRC “just compensation” for these takings. The company’s real assets—the minds of its writers and the talents of its actors—would, of course, remain intact and free to move elsewhere. So essentially Mr. Frick is offering to buy MRC a bunch of new cameras, leaving the state with a bunch of old cameras which it will use for…well that hasn’t been determined yet.
In this case, it would seem that the shackles are more like bangles.
The Maryland State House adopted Frick’s measure without debate. It now goes to the Senate.