6 Questions For Your Next 401(k) RFP

RFPs, or requests for proposals, come in all shapes and sizes. Mostly they are long, drawn out affairs, frequently copied from templates drawn up to capture a broad sense of capabilities. The problem is, for most plan sponsors it’s akin to going shopping for a car armed with Chilton’s auto repair manual (that said, if you need one, a quick Google search on “401k RFP” will turn up plenty).

So, aside from all the general information that you’ll want to get from every provider during the RFP process – the size of their business, the quality, tenure and turnover of their key staff, their capabilities, service structure, years and investment in “the business,” fees, services offered and references, there are some questions that aren’t in every RFP — but to which the answers can be enlightening.

1. What plan design changes would you recommend, and why?

This question has two payoffs. First, in order to recommend changes, they have to know what your current plan looks like. Secondly, it gives you a chance to evaluate the quality of their recommendations. As an extra bonus, if the changes recommended indicate they don’t know what your current plan looks like, that tells you something as well.

2. How many other clients like me do you have?

There are many ways to answer the “like me” question — comparable size, similar workforce demographics, geographic proximity, etc. Hone in on the ones that have similar plan provisions (particularly match, eligibility, and withdrawal) and employee population sizes. Then get their contact information.

3. Are there any restrictions on fund choices?

Many providers place boundaries on the funds available on their platform. Some of this is in the interests of efficiency in education and processing, some of it doubtless ease their evaluation of suitability and review, and some of it may simply facilitate revenue-sharing structures. Regardless, if there are restrictions as to which fund(s), particularly proprietary offerings, must be on your menu, or in what proportion, you need to understand that upfront. And understand why.

4. What’s your preferred QDIA?

Admittedly, everybody doesn’t have a “preferred” qualified default investment option (at least not labeled as such). That said, industry surveys suggest that target-date funds are the most common default fund option today, though managed accounts are making inroads. Knowing what’s available (both what type, and which specific one(s) — and what’s “preferred” — can give you insights not only as to the breadth of offerings, but the perspective of your potential partner on what may well be the primary investment selection of participants in your plan.

5. How — and how much — do you and your other partners get paid?

Sure, fees will be part of any self-respecting RFP response, though since such things are often variable, you’re more likely to get a fee schedule than a fee quote — particularly during the “getting to know you” phase that accompanies most RFPs. Still, it will be worth your time to find out what variables need to be quantified to provide a precise calculation, and then provide them. Because there’s nothing like a bottom line number to help you focus on the bottom line.

As for the “how” — revenue-sharing arrangements, and the potential conflicts of interest that can be obscured by some arrangements — are a current and growing litigation concern. Knowing not only how much, but how, can shed light on potential issues before they become real ones.

6. Please provide the contact information for three clients that have left you in the last 18 months.

It’s normal, and natural, to ask for references — and you should. But references are one thing; ex-clients are another. It’s an awkward question to ask, particularly at the outset of a potential relationship. But we’ve all lost clients for reasons good and bad, and there’s value in talking to someone who, for whatever reason, has opted to go elsewhere, if only to find out how the provider handled the transition out.

Odds are you’ll get the names of clients who left via merger or acquisition, not those who have actually fired them. But you never know. And you’ll never know until you ask.

Got some other suggestions? Post them in the comments section below. Or email me at nevin.adams@usaretirement.org.

- Nevin E. Adams, JD

6 Questions to Ask at Your Next Investment Committee Meeting

Every plan, and every investment committee, is unique — and yet, conducted properly, there are inevitably areas of commonality.

As the quarter draws to a close and preparations for these meetings get underway, here are some questions that could enhance the discussion, if not the outcome, of your next meeting.

1. Do we really need to have all these funds on the menu?

We know that participants tend to hold four or five funds on average, regardless of how many choices are on the menu. And for years we’ve known that the more choices participants have, the more difficult it is for them to make choices. (Remember the famous study about jam choices?) Sure, it can be hard to let go of a fund, especially if some participants have invested money in that option. But what tends to happen over time is a kind of fund menu inflation, where new funds get added but old ones never leave.

The funds on your menu should have a purpose. If they don’t — even if they once did — you aren’t doing anyone a favor by cluttering up the menu. And you could be leaving in place a non-performing ticking time bomb that could lead to problems later on.

2. Are there less expensive share classes available for the funds on our investment menu?

Arguably, this is the question that the defendants in Tibble v. Edison should have asked, and spared themselves a lot of time and litigation. The bottom line is, if there’s no difference in a fund choice (particularly when it’s just a different share class of the same fund) other than price, why is the more expensive one on your menu?

3. How much are our participants paying for this plan?

Odds are that most of the fees paid by the plan are investment-related, and with all the additional fee disclosures floating around, you’d like to believe that the committee already knows the answer to this question.

In my experience, however, it’s one thing to invoke a sterile “x basis points” assessment and another thing altogether to stop and do the math to put a gross dollar figure on the total cost to the plan. Or maybe even how much the average participant in the plan is paying in dollars and cents.

4. What services are we buying with those fees?

There’s been a lot of focus on fees lately — but fiduciaries are charged with ensuring that the fees and services rendered are reasonable. And I’ve never understood how you can figure out if fees are “reasonable” if you don’t know what you are paying them for.

5. Do we all need to be on this committee?

Over time, committees have a tendency to expand, sometimes based more on factors like internal organizational politics than on valuable perspectives or expertise. But human dynamics are such that the larger the group, the more diffused (and sometimes deferred) the decision-making.

As for how to trim the “fat” from the committee, sometimes all you have to do is remind committee members that plan fiduciaries have personal liability (see “5 Things Plan Sponsors Should Know”).

6. Who’s taking notes?

Finally, if you’re having a committee meeting, you’ll want to document all decisions that are made and the rationale behind each one. Prudence is process, after all — and it often starts with asking the right questions.

- Nevin E. Adams, JD

5 Investment Committee Lessons Learned From Tibble

Two things have been overlooked by many people in the days leading up to the Supreme Court’s decision in Tibble v. Edison International and the weeks thereafter: (1) most of the wrongs¹ initially alleged did not survive the judgment of the district court; and (2) only a single issue — the determination as to how to apply ERISA’s statute of limitations to fund selection — was before the nation’s highest court.

While the Supreme Court rejected the notion that an initial fund review was sufficient in the absence of significant changes in circumstance to preclude the need for an ongoing assessment, the defendants in Tibble did a lot of things right that many plans don’t. Here are five:

1. They had a plan investment committee.

ERISA only requires that the named fiduciary (and there must be one of those) make decisions regarding the plan that are in the best interests of plan participants and beneficiaries, and that are the types of decisions that a prudent expert would make about such matters. ERISA does not require that you make those decisions by yourself — and, in fact, requires that if you lack the requisite expertise, you must enlist the support of those who do have it. No committee required.

2. They had regular committee meetings.

Having a committee and not having committee meetings is potentially worse than not having a committee at all. If there is a group charged with overseeing the activities of the plan and that group doesn’t convene, then one might well assume that the plan is not being properly managed, or that the plan’s activities and providers are not prudently managed and monitored, as the law requires. The Edison investment committee met quarterly to review plan investments and to review reports and recommendations from investment staff.

3. They kept minutes of committee meetings.

There is an old ERISA adage that says, “prudence is process.” However, an updated version of that adage might be “prudence is process — but only if you can prove it.” To that end, a written record of the activities of your plan committee(s) is an essential ingredient in validating not only the results, but also the thought process behind those deliberations.

More significantly, those minutes can provide committee members — both past and future — with a sense of the environment at the time decisions were made, the alternatives presented and the rationale offered for each, as well as what those decisions were. They also can be an invaluable tool in reassessing those decisions at the appropriate time and making adjustments as warranted — properly documented, of course. And they can be useful in subsequent litigation. Or not.²

4. They had an investment policy statement.

While plan advisors and consultants routinely counsel on the need for, and importance of, an investment policy statement, the reality is that the law does not require one, and thus, many plan sponsors — sometimes at direction of legal counsel — choose not to put one in place.

Of course, if the law does not specifically require a written investment policy statement (IPS) — think of it as investment guidelines for the plan — ERISA nonetheless basically anticipates that plan fiduciaries will conduct themselves as though they had one in place. And, generally speaking, you should find it easier to conduct the plan’s investment business in accordance with a set of established, prudent standards if those standards are in writing, and not crafted at a point in time when you are desperately trying to make sense of the markets. In sum, you want an IPS in place before you need an IPS in place.

Not also that, while not legally required, Labor Department auditors routinely ask for a copy of the plan’s IPS as one of their first requests. And therein lies the rationale behind the counsel of some in the legal profession to forego having a formal IPS: Because if there is one thing worse than not having an investment policy statement, it is having an investment policy statement — in writing — that is not followed.

That said, the Edison investment committee had an IPS, and by all accounts, were attentive to its terms. Terms that apparently were focused on the investment and asset allocation aspects of the fund choices, rather than on the costs and alternatives.

5. They hired an investment professional to help.

The Edison plan investment committee had access to, and relied on the services of, an investment adviser (AonHewitt’s investment consulting arm) to review/select/monitor funds. And they did make fund changes during the period in question (in fact, the district court noted that in 33 of 39 instances during the period in question, they replaced funds with others that actually decreased the revenue-sharing received by the plan).

The Tibble defendants clearly did a lot of things right in reviewing and monitoring their investment menu — so what did they do wrong?

Well, with regard to this litigation, what this $2 billion+ plan didn’t do was ask investment fund providers to waive the minimums for investment in institutional class shares, shares that were reportedly identical in every way save one (fees) to the retail class chosen. It might well be that the IPS itself and the focus of the committee didn’t consider all the factors (notably fees) that play into fund performance and suitability, and should be considered.

Following the Supreme Court’s ruling, it’s clear there is a fiduciary duty to review the funds on the retirement plan menu on an ongoing basis, though how much and how often remain to be established.
But perhaps most importantly, one lesson is now crystal clear now, if it wasn’t previously: “set it and forget it” is not an appropriate standard of review for ERISA fiduciaries.

Nevin E. Adams, JD

Footnotes

1. The district court cited three possible rationales for the retention of retail-class shares offered by witnesses for the defendant/employers — but found no evidence for them in the actions taken (or not taken).

2. The district court noted that witnesses for the defendant/employers offered three possible rationales for keeping the retail shares: If the retail share class of a certain mutual fund had significant performance history and a Morningstar rating, but the institutional share class did not; to avoid confusion among participants resulting from frequent changes in the fund; or if there were certain minimum investment requirements. But Judge Stephen V. Wilson noted that, “None of these explanations is supported by the facts in this case.”

The Troubble With Tibble

Ours is a complex business. For one thing, it’s fraught with potential peril for inattentive plan fiduciaries, many of whom find themselves tasked with the responsibilities of the role (frequently as part of a much wider range of responsibilities) with little in the way of background, training or explanation to help.

And then you have the defendants in the Tibble v. Edison International case: a large ($2 billion-plus) plan that not only had an investment committee, but also one separate from the benefits administration function. Moreover, that investment committee had access to the services of an investment advisor (Hewitt’s investment consulting arm) to review, select and monitor funds and, according to the findings of the lower courts, a review process that was attentive to the requirements of an investment policy statement (IPS).

What they did not do was ask about the availability of lower-priced institutional shares.

However, that wasn’t the issue before the U.S. Supreme Court this past week. Rather, the Court was asked to decide how to apply ERISA’s statute of limitations to the action of selecting these funds. Three of the retail class funds were added as plan investment options in 1999; three more were added in 2002. The plan sponsor plaintiffs had successfully argued before the 9th Circuit that when the suit was brought in 2007, the funds which were added in 1999 had been on the plan menu for more than six years — beyond ERISA's statute of limitations. At issue was whether the prudence of that older selection could be challenged.

In the presentations before the Supreme Court, both parties agreed that there was a fiduciary duty to review plan investments, and both parties were willing to concede that the initial review and selection of an investment fund should be more extensive than just considering the retention or replacement of a fund that was already on the investment menu. It was the nature and extent of that review that consumed much of the discussion during the hearing.

In the initial ruling in the case, the district court said there had to be a change in circumstances significant enough to make the continued investment in that investment option an imprudent one, and cited legal precedent for its view. The discussion last week noted precedents in the 9th, 4th and 11th Circuits saying that change would have to be tantamount to adding a new fund. In Tibble, there doesn’t appear to have been a change in the funds on the menu per se, but rather, the mere existence of lower-cost institutional shares.

However, the Assistant to the Solicitor General, appearing in support of the plaintiffs’ position as a friend of the court, told the justices that in its assessment, the ongoing monitoring of investment options was "not limited to circumstances in which the fund changed so much that it's like a new fund is being put in place.” 

It remains to be seen how the Supreme Court’s view of the level of review and the circumstances that trigger it will affect the outcome of this case. We’ll have an answer by June.

That said, the words that linger in my mind — and that I think plan fiduciaries should remember — also came from the Assistant Solicitor General: “You have a duty to look on a periodic basis and, really, how are you going to know if there have been changes unless you looked.”

How indeed.

- Nevin E. Adams, JD

"Missed" Deeds and 401(k) Fees

The Nov. 7 issue of The New York Times included a story about “Finding, and Battling, Hidden Costs of 401(k) Plans.” The story focused primarily on the plight of Ronald Tussey, the named plaintiff in Tussey v. ABB, Inc., one of the so-called “excess fee” revenue sharing cases.

Tussey, now 70, claims that he was told that his retirement plan was “free,” even though, according to the Times article, “middlemen¹ were deducting expenses from his savings.” The story also notes that Tussey “never thought that his retirement plan might be flawed,” and that “he trusted his company so much he kept his money in his 401(k) long after he left.”

Over the years, I have been astounded at the allegations of fiduciary misconduct in these revenue-sharing cases. Each has its own flavor, of course, but for the most part they have struck me not so much as the outcomes of bad acts, per se, but rather steps that should have been taken in keeping with their fiduciary duty to ensure that the fees and services provided are reasonable and in the best interests of participants and their beneficiaries.

In Tussey’s case, ABB (his former employer) is alleged to have been told by a consultant that they were paying too much for record keeping fees, and then did nothing about it — for instance, though their decision to close a balanced fund and force participants into age-appropriate target-date funds. The use of float was also challenged. Both of those charges were dismissed by the 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals; just this week the U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear the case.

But the point of the Times article was all about fees,² outlining places and ways that readers can find out about the “…raft of obscure fees and services that few employees will be able to discern,” while also cautioning that none of those resources can help them figure out how much is too much. (That did not, however, keep the author of the article from redefining ERISA’s prudent man standard of care to mean “…finding a reasonable selection of low-cost funds and services.”)

A couple of weeks back, my wife and I met with our financial advisor to transfer and consolidate some small IRAs. Having attended to the basics, the conversation turned to investments, and then to a couple of fund recommendations. The advisor carefully outlined the expense ratios associated with the fund (which seemed reasonable to me), and then turned to the charges associated with investing in that fund. He didn’t call them a load, of course,  but that’s what it was, and a hefty one at that. And, Ronald Tussey’s status notwithstanding, I was reminded again just how lucky most 401(k) participants are.

Even if, as the article frets, participants aren’t able to find or understand thier 401(k) fees and don’t know what is reasonable — even if they assume such things are free — their retirement savings are under the care and oversight of a plan fiduciary. That fiduciary is personally responsible for ensuring that the fees and services are reasonable, is expected to engage the services of experts, if necessary, to make that determination, and is accountable not only for the things that are done wrong — the misdeeds — but for the “missed” deeds as well.

Nevin E. Adams, JD

1. “Middlemen” in this case seem to have been Fidelity Management Trust Company, the plan’s trustee and record keeper, as well as Fidelity Management and Research Company, the investment advisor to the Fidelity mutual funds on the plan.

2. Lending numerical support to their claims, the Times article cites a 2012 report on 401(k) fees by the left-leaning Demos advocacy group claiming that “nearly a third” of the investment returns of a medium-income two-earner family was being taken by fees, according to its model. That model, it should be noted, assumed that each fund had trading costs equal to the explicit expense ratio of the fund. The report was authored by Robert Hiltonsmith, who some may recall being featured in the 2013 PBS Frontline special, “The Retirement Gamble.”  

"Better" Business

There was another judicial decision in another revenue-sharing case earlier this month—and another victory for a plan sponsor.

The case was Loomis v. Exelon (see Another Plan Sponsor Win on Revenue-Sharing), a case argued before the 7th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals, which had previously weighed in on the case that appears to be setting the tone in most of these cases, “Hecker v. Deere & Co.” Hecker, as you may recall, involved a situation with a large, multi-billion-dollar plan that offered its participants access to a couple of dozen funds from a single provider alongside a self-directed brokerage window that afforded access to funds beyond that. The 7th Circuit dismissed that challenge, finding that the competitive forces of the market were sufficient to ensure reasonable fee levels for the specific funds on the menu, and that, if the participants felt otherwise, they could always pursue other options via the brokerage window.

In Exelon, there was no brokerage window, though there were 32 fund options, mostly (24) mutual funds—mutual funds that were retail-class funds. Once again, the 7th Circuit noted that “all of these funds were also offered to investors in the general public, and so the expense ratios necessarily were set against the backdrop of market competition,” and restated its holding in Hecker that “nothing in ERISA requires every fiduciary to scour the market to find and offer the cheapest possible fund.” And then the court launched off into what, IMHO, was an odd juxtaposition of the benefits of those retail funds against “institutional” funds, which it claimed don’t offer the same level of liquidity, transparency, and ability to benchmark against comparable investments. Really? Have they never heard of an “I” share?


I once opined that, based on the Hecker decision, I would advise plan sponsors to give “participants LOTS of fund choices —via a brokerage window if possible—and I would make sure that there were at least some low-cost fund choices available via that window,” and that, among other things, I wouldn't concern myself “overly much with the fees paid by the plan/participants—so long as those fees were paid via mutual fund expense ratios that are the same as those paid by investors in the retail market” (see IMHO: “‘Winning’ Ways?” ). It was a tongue-in-cheek remark, of course, but the Hecker decision struck me as heavily - perhaps too heavily - dependent on free-market principles: Participants weren’t forced to put money in the plan, those who chose to do so weren’t forced into any particular option, and the fees associated with those options were, almost by definition, reasonable since they were subject to free and fair market forces.

That same court was similarly inclined here—and, if you can’t embrace the rationale, one can at least appreciate the consistency.

More than that, in this case, the 7th Circuit noted that Exelon had no real motivation to put “bad” fund options on the retirement plan menu. “[T]here is no reason to think that Exelon chose these funds to enrich itself at participants’ expense. To the contrary, Exelon had (and has) every reason to use competition in the market for fund management to drive down the expenses charged to participants, because the larger participants’ net gains, the better Exelon’s pension plan is. That enables Exelon to recruit better workers, or reduce wages and pension contributions without making the total package of compensation (wages plus fringe benefits) less attractive. Competition thus assists both employers and employees, as Hecker observed.”

The question here isn’t whether Exelon, or any employer, reaps personal benefit from the plan, or how it is structured. Employers do, of course, reap the recruiting/retention benefits of providing a robust and competitive package of benefits, alongside certain tax benefits—though, in my experience, these pale in comparison to the investment of time, money, and effort required. The decision to offer a plan, like the decision to participate, is voluntary. Bad law and intrusive regulation can weigh on the former, and poor plan design and lax administration can surely restrain the latter.

ERISA fiduciaries are, however, not merely expected to offer a “competitive” program, nor is it enough to simply steer clear of arrangements that enrich their bottom line at the expense of participants. Rather, every plan decision is supposed to be not just in the interests, but in the BEST interests, of participants, and from the perspective—or with the assistance—of experts in the field.

That test may, of course, be satisfied by merely offering access to the same types of investments available to retail investors, but, IMHO, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t expect—better.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

Out of Proportion

Without question the retirement plan industry has prospered from the long-standing practice of relying heavily – and in some situations, completely - on asset-based fees.

Now, you can certainly argue that that has resulted in plans paying for services they would not otherwise have engaged, and that it has, in some cases, led to plans paying more than they might if they had been more cognizant of the dollars expended. Indeed, one can argue that the imbedding of those fees inside the fund structure has made it easy, perhaps too easy, for the industry to collect its tolls without drawing the kind of scrutiny they were entitled to.

On the other hand, that structure has made it easier for the industry to provide a broad-based level of sophisticated services to plans of all sizes, and has doubtless made it possible for plans to contemplate hiring an adviser that, regardless of the need and/or benefit, would otherwise have been discouraged by an explicit charge for those services.


That said, there are some issues attendant with the current asset-based fee structure that, IMHO, bear discussion:

Asset-based fees go up – pretty much all the time.

For most of the existence of the 401(k), the markets have been fairly good, and as they say, a rising tide lifts all boats. In this particular case, rising markets have also meant rising fees. Proportionately rising fees, of course, but rising fees nonetheless. That, in turn, has meant that those who make their living off asset-based fees have seen some pretty nice pay increases over time – without necessarily having to do anything more or different to “earn” them. Even in bad markets, the steady flow of contributions has cushioned the blow that might otherwise have tamped them down.

Asset-based fees go down when the work – and risks – go up.

One of the great ironies of asset-based fees is that they do sometimes go down, and at the most “inconvenient” times. One need look back only as far as the fourth quarter of 2008 to remember a precipitous decline in asset values – and asset-value-based fees - at the very same time that many noted a steep increase in the “care and feeding” of plan sponsors and participants who had been shaken by what was happening to their retirement plans (not to mention their plans for retirement). Of course, it would probably be viewed as unseemly (at best) to raise your fees during such times – but that is when your work, and your risks, are generally rising.

The bigger your balance, the more you pay.

Admittedly, when you’re talking about fees based on assets, it makes sense that the more assets you have, the more fees you pay. Perhaps that makes a modicum of sense when you are talking about things like investment management (even then, it seems to me that those with large balances are carrying an ironically disproportionate, albeit proportionate amount of the fees). As “industry insiders”, we all know this – indeed, some go so far as to see a more high-minded result; the “rich” underwriting the costs of the less rich, if you will.

On the other hand, it’s not just the rich that have larger balances – frequently those are the balances of lower-income workers who have, nonetheless, been long-time diligent savers. So, said another way, it’s older, longer-tenured workers are underwriting the costs of the folks who have just joined the plan.

Different funds “share” differently

We all know that different types (and brands) of mutual funds charge different fees. What is less obvious to many plan sponsors is that different types (and brands) of mutual funds provide different amounts of revenue sharing. It is not atypical for a plan sponsor to sit down with a recordkeeper, to figure out what the recordkeeping charges will be, to determine what the aggregate amount of the revenue-sharing rebates will be, and then to determine how to manage the difference. But if some funds provide higher levels of revenue-sharing, then the participants investing in those funds are, effectively, shouldering a larger proportion of the administrative costs of the plan.

There are administrative ways to “level” these fee allocations, but many plan sponsors aren’t even aware that this has crept in.

Out of “sight” IS out of mind.

To me the biggest issue with those “imbedded” asset-based fees is that you never really see how much actual money you’re paying. Oh, it’s not like the fees aren’t “disclosed”, and it’s not as though it’s rocket science to figure it out, at least at a high level. But most plan sponsors are lured into what I consider to be the faux comparisons of basis points, rather than actually stopping to figure out what 100 basis points times the assets in a particular fund actually adds up to – and who gets how much for what.


The reality of our world is that a large, and growing number, of retirement plan advisers are already “fee for service”, and the fee disclosure regulations are widely seen as accelerating that trend.

That said, our industry has gotten comfortable, some even complacent, with a fee system structure that tends to raise, not lower, fees over time, a system that apportions fees on a basis that often has little to do with the costs of providing the services it supports, and one that tends to obscure the real costs of the services they ostensibly underwrite.

The current structure may have been “convenient” – but just because it’s “proportionate”, doesn’t mean it’s always fair.

- Nevin E. Adams, JD

“Smoke” Signals

Plan sponsors spend a lot of time wondering—and worrying—about the “right” way to do things. They rely on the guidance of experts, the insights of publications like ours, the black—though often gray—letter of the law, and sometimes they must rely on the occasionally contradictory adjudications of the courts.

Those contradictions have been much in evidence in the series of 401(k) revenue-sharing lawsuits, which, IMHO, continue to suffer from what seems to be a confusing “flexibility” in judicial discernment regarding the standards of fiduciary responsibility and application of ERISA’s 404(c) safe harbors. In fact, it is only a matter of time until some plan sponsor somewhere files an injury claim for whiplash incurred from simply trying to keep up with the direction of these decisions.

The most recent example was the case of Gerald George vs. Kraft Foods Global (see Appellate Court Sends Back Kraft Fee Case), a case the 7th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals remanded (albeit in a split 2-1 decision) for further deliberation to a District Court—which had already determined that there was no issue presented that required a formal adjudication, while granting the employer-defendant’s motion for summary judgment (see Kraft Excessive Fee Case Thrown Out).

That District Court, which relied heavily on the decision of this same federal appellate court ruling in Hecker v. Deere & Co., reasoned that ERISA requires only that fiduciaries use a “reasoned decisionmaking process” that utilizes the appropriate methods to decide on a proper course of action in running a plan, and that in continuing to employ its current recordkeeper (Hewitt Associates) , the Kraft fiduciaries were under no obligation “to scour the market” for the cheapest fund or service provider (see “Reasonable Redoubts”).


However, in the recent appellate decision, we find that, since hiring Hewitt in 1995, the plan’s fiduciaries had not solicited competitive bids from other recordkeepers—a finding that raised my eyebrows, as it doubtless would most retirement professionals. Now, one should always be careful in reading judicial explanations of the facts on which they based their decisions as a complete picture, but this court said that the defendants “…emphasized that they engaged several independent consultants for advice as to the reasonableness of Hewitt’s fee and argued that in doing so they satisfied their duty to ensure that Hewitt’s fees were reasonable”—a statement that the appellate court juxtaposed against a statement that, over a 10-year period, “fees paid to Hewitt ranged between $43 and $65 per participant per year.”

The implication seemed to be that casual conversations with “independent consultants” were no replacement for a full-blown competitive bidding process—and the fee trend, lacking context, was an eye-opener as well. But the District Court outlined a series of plan changes and negotiations over that time period that painted a very different picture and were anything but “casual.” True, one might well wonder why a full RFP wasn’t issued, but the District Court opinion paints a picture of lots of merger-related plan changes; an active discussion, review, and comparison of fees; alongside a pattern of negotiation that both reduced fees and/or expanded services over the period in question. In sum, the picture painted by the lower court’s opinion was the kind of thing you might expect to come from a full competitive bid without the time, pain, and—yes—expense of undertaking it. And, yes, it was documented.

That said, the appellate court found error in the District Court’s dismissal based on a finding that the “defendants satisfied their duty of prudence by relying on the advice of their consultants”, going on to note that “although the fact that defendants engaged consultants and relied on their advice with respect to Hewitt’s fee is certainly evidence of prudence, it is not sufficient to entitle defendants to judgment as a matter of law” (1).

Ultimately, while some commentators have painted this opinion as a reversal of fortunes for employers in these cases, I am disinclined to see it that way. Rather, to my reading, you have a court that sees just enough smoke2 to wonder if there might be a fire; a large plan that went a decade without a formal RFP3. Determining not that not doing so was inherently imprudent4—but that making that determination would require a more complete airing of the facts.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

1 In explaining its determination, the court cited Donovan v. Cunningham, 716 F.2d 1455, 1474 (5th Cir. 1983) (stating that “[a]n independent appraisal is not a magic wand that fiduciaries may simply waive over a transaction to ensure that their responsibilities are fulfilled”).

2 There were also issues raised about the use of two different accounting structures in two different plans for its company stock funds, and questions about how float was accounted for, in addition to questions about the use of actively managed funds. In fact, considering the volume of the opinion dedicated to it, the company stock accounting may well have been the most compelling triable issue of fact for the appellate court.

3 The appellate court also took issue with the District Court’s dismissal of testimony by an expert witness by the plaintiffs. According to the appellate court, Lawrence R. Johnson reviewed the process that defendants followed when they extended Hewitt’s contract and opined that defendants acted imprudently by extending the contract without first soliciting bids from other recordkeepers. The District Court found his expertise was limited to mid-size plans and dismissed it, while the appellate court said that “defendants have not pointed to any differences between the recordkeeping needs of mid-sized and large plans that would make experience with mid-sized plans an insufficient qualification for rendering an opinion about the recordkeeping needs of a large plan.”

4 In a “spirited” dissent, Judge Richard D. Cudahy, who characterized the lawsuit as an “implausible class action based on nitpicking with respect to perfectly legitimate practices of the fiduciaries,” noted that “[i]f plaintiffs can find one ‘expert’ who will testify that the fee is too high, must there be a trial? Here, the trustees have a relationship with Hewitt going back fifteen years. They have a good sense of the dimensions of the job and Hewitt’s performance in carrying it out. Must they substitute any lower bidder that happens along?”

Service Charges

As Valentine’s Day looms, you have perhaps seen those increasingly ubiquitous advertisements for a certain online florist.

Now, I’ve used that particular service on many an occasion over the past several years; they are not only convenient, they deliver a quality product, and on time (yes, some “assembly” is required). In sum, I’ve used them before and will doubtless use them again.

That said, if you’ve been lured to their Web site by their ads touting a dozen roses for $19.99—well, let’s just say you could be in for a surprise. See, that advertised price doesn’t include a vase (well, not a pretty one, anyway), the delivery charge (which, depending on when you want it delivered, adds another 50%, or more, to the price), not to mention the standard “care & handling” charge of $3 (regardless of when you want it delivered). A guaranteed morning delivery on Valentine’s Day is another $15. Oh, and if you’ve procrastinated until the last week or so, you’ll find an additional $9.99 charge for “guaranteed Valentine’s Day delivery.” In sum, depending on when you get around to ordering those $20 roses, you could easily wind up spending three or four times that amount (but, hey—what’s it worth to you to stay in your sweetheart’s good graces?). And, most of that disclosure doesn’t happen until the screen right before you place your order.1

Of late, I have been talking about 2011 as “the year of disclosure.” It’s the year when I think most plan sponsors will begin really looking at those new 5500 disclosures, perhaps alongside those newly minted 408(b)2 disclosures (or would have until Friday’s announcement from the Labor Department that the deadline was being pushed back six months (see “EBSA Sets New 408(b)(2) Deadline for January 2012”).
Additionally, the issue of participant fee disclosure is back on the table, an outcome that will surely heighten the focus of plan sponsors on the issue.

The question, of course, is what will plan sponsors DO in response? For years now, there has been an undercurrent of thought that, once they saw what they were paying (and to whom), plan sponsors would rise up and demand change and/or a change in providers. Advisers would lead this charge, armed with these expanded disclosures, and the federal government would even play a role by not only mandating these disclosures, but providing plan fiduciaries with some “sticks” to spur compliance by reluctant providers (personally, I’d just find some new providers, but…). Indeed, all of this is being brought to bear at the same time, and the prospects for expanded, if not enhanced, disclosures seem bright.

Interestingly enough, these disclosures don’t really change the obligations or responsibility of plan fiduciaries to ensure that the fees paid and services rendered to the plan are reasonable. Indeed, most of the burden for disclosure falls on those who provide services to the plan, not the plan sponsor. That said, once the plan sponsor/fiduciary is apprised of such things in black and white (not to mention the Labor Department via the Form 5500), IMHO, it will be a lot harder to profess ignorance of such things.

Ultimately, I think those who provide services to these plans will be more thoughtful about the services they offer and what (and how) they charge for those services, and surely some will decide to no longer offer those services in this market and/or at those prices. Surely it will be easier—at least eventually—for advisers to help plan sponsors make apples-to-apples comparisons of services and costs, to make a more thoughtful—and prudent—determination.

That doesn’t mean that plan sponsors will act on that information. But then, if the process of disclosure has the kind of antiseptic effect we might hope it could have on the business of fees charged, then it’s entirely possible they won’t have to.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

1 However startled one might be by the additional service charges on that online flower order, odds are your local florist charges about the same thing for the total package (with fewer options), perhaps without detailing the “extras.”

Paper “Trail”

Last week, the Department of Labor reissued its proposed regulation on participant fee disclosure.
Those familiar with the last proposal (put out by the prior Administration—see “EBSA Finishes Regulatory Package with Participant Disclosure Proposal”) will doubtless find this one to be a modest improvement (see “EBSA Releases Final 401(k) Fee Disclosure Rule”). Aside from the passage of time, this version incorporates additional input from the retirement plan community, financial services regulators, and even participant focus groups—most of it good, and all of it interesting.1

The rule itself is worth a read for, IMHO, it offers valuable insights not only into the suggestions made, but into the Labor Department’s reaction and response to those comments. As always, the devil lies in the final details, but one senses a strong interest in balancing the desire to give participants more information to make better decisions with the practical realities attendant in providing transparency and consistency of disclosure in an industry whose fee structure has become increasingly obtuse and intertwined.

That said, and while this is a marked improvement from the current state of affairs, IMHO, this regulation will still leave us a long way from producing what I think will actually show participants what they are paying for these retirement accounts.


Sure, they’ll get more frequent information on their investments, and sure, there will be more (and probably better) comparative information about those investments, both fees and performance. Yes, they will see fees expressed both as a percentage and as a dollar amount per $1,000 invested, and yes, they will get more information on account restrictions, annuity provisions, and revenue-sharing than many have probably ever received previously. And yet, for all this extra data that will be produced, provided, and distributed, I can’t quite shake the image of a participant’s eyes glazing over as they desperately try to make sense of what they have been given.

Of course, it’s possible that many won’t bother reading it at all, though a large part of the financial justification for these regulations is how much time the disclosures’ availability will spare participants searching for information about these investments. In fact, to my eye, perhaps one of the most significant revisions from the prior regulations was a reset in the estimation of just how many participants are expected to benefit from these reams of paper. The prior proposed regulation estimated that 29% of participants in these programs would realize some kind of time-savings, but the Labor Department, responding to a suggestion from a commentator, has upped that—to an eye-popping 70%-76%!2

Now, that determination isn’t, IMHO, essential to the importance of this effort. Personally, the 29% figure is much more in line with my experience, mostly because what I see, time and again, is that the more paper we sling at participants, the less attention they pay. And, make no mistake, with this new proposal, we will be slinging a lot more paper at participants, and more frequently. Despite the effort to alleviate the complexity of basis points and revenue-sharing, it’s hard to shake the sense that this well-intentioned effort will simply overwhelm participants, while at the same time placing a large and growing burden on the backs of those who must provide, administer, and explain it.

It’s clear to me that the information is needed, and as I read the proposal, it’s clear to me that the regulators have made a good-faith effort to strike a balance in providing it.

That said, I doubt very much that it will make much difference in participant behavior, nor am I optimistic that it will actually enlighten many, certainly not the three of four cited in the Labor Department’s projections. This is not a shortcoming of the DoL’s attempt here—frankly, in view of the tangled web that has become 401(k) retirement fee calculations, I think they are to be lauded for their vigorous and balanced efforts.

However, what participants really want and, IMHO, what they need to really understand what is going on here is to have that single figure on the statement—even if produced only once a year—that tells them what their retirement plan costs.

This new regulation may hasten that day’s arrival. But until it comes, I fear we may be doing little more than papering over the real problems.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

1 There is another interesting inclusion in this proposal—one that has to do with disclosures, but perhaps not participant fee disclosures, per se. With this proposal, which merges the 404(c) disclosure regulations with those of non-404(c) plans, the Labor Department added a provision to the 404(c) regulation, stating plainly what those of us in the industry have long understood; that, even where ERISA 404(c) protection applies, it does not shield fiduciaries from the duty to prudently select and monitor investments. However, this statement was only referenced in the preamble to those regulations rather than in the body—and thus, some courts had seen fit to disregard its implication in a series of revenue-sharing suit dismissals (see “IMHO: Second Opinions"). That, of course, is fodder for another day.

2 The recommendation was based on a finding from the Employee Benefit Research Institute’s (EBRI) 2007 Retirement Confidence Survey, which indicated that 73% (plus or minus 3%) of workers saving for retirement used written materials received at work as a source of information when making retirement savings and investment decisions.

The regulation is online HERE

A fact sheet summary is online HERE

A model of the information chart is online HERE

The Duty To Ask

Last week I mentioned a revenue-sharing case that could have far-reaching implications.

That case, Tibble v. Edison International, was decided earlier this month (see “Court Buys Retail vs. Institutional Share Fee Claims”) and, IMHO, is a very interesting case for several reasons: First, most of these cases have been tossed before they actually got to trial; second, this one was decided in the plaintiff/participant’s favor (and that’s a rarer occurrence than much of the coverage and “chatter” would indicate). Moreover, here the court was far less deferential to the plan fiduciary decisions than other districts have been1.

But what I found most interesting about this case wasn’t the decision or the court’s rationale, though both will certainly have ramifications beyond this case. Nor, in large part, were the plaintiffs’ arguments any more compelling than in previous actions. In fact, like many of the revenue-sharing/excessive-fee cases filed since 2006, the plaintiffs here made a LOT of accusations—most of which were, as they have been in other cases (and rightfully, IMHO), summarily dismissed2. In this case, that included the selection of sector funds for the plan, having a money market fund on the menu rather than a stable value offering, and structuring the company stock fund as a unitized fund, rather than using share accounting.

Short Falls

Where this court did hold the plan fiduciaries3 liable was their decision to invest in retail shares rather than institutional shares of the same funds. But what I found most striking about the case wasn’t the allegations or the adjudication, but rather that what was, by outward appearances anyway, a thoughtful and sophisticated plan review structure would manage to overlook such a basic opportunity.

Here you have a large ($2-plus billion) plan that not only has an investment committee, but one separate from the benefits administration function. Moreover, that investment committee has access to, and uses the services of, an investment adviser (Hewitt’s investment consulting arm) to review/select/monitor funds. That’s a reasonably sophisticated set-up, and certainly what one might expect for a plan of this size.

Now, the plan decision-makers are aware of revenue-sharing but consistently make decisions that support the notion that they do not take that into account. In fact, the court noted that in 33 of 39 instances during the period in question, the employer made mutual fund replacements that actually decreased the revenue-sharing received by the plan, leaving the court to note, “This overall pattern is not consistent with a motive to increase revenue sharing.” In fact, the court noted that “[t]he Plan fiduciaries did not make fund selections with an eye toward increasing revenue sharing and did not put the interests of SCE above those of the Plan participants.”4

So, what do they fail to do?

Well, apparently they did not even ASK the investment fund providers to waive the minimums for investment in institutional class shares. That’s right, they never asked if those minimums could be waived—so, of course, they weren’t (particularly damning was the testimony of the employer’s expert that such waivers were routinely granted, and for plans of much smaller size). Think of it as “the duty to ask.”

As you read the court’s description of the process, you get a sense that the investment committee was attentive to an investment policy statement (IPS) that was carefully prepared and to which the committee adhered; that they met regularly, and thoughtfully conducted their review with the assistance of a professional investment consultant. The court even described a situation5 where the investment committee considered—and specifically chose—an institutional share class for a fund over a retail offering, because the institutional class met the criteria established by the IPS, whereas the retail class did not.

Yet, for all of this good structure and process, there was one thing that this particular plan sponsor failed to do: They apparently failed to ask if a “better” share class was available.

In the words of the court, “The only way a fiduciary can obtain a waiver of the investment minimum is to call and ask for one. Yet none of the Edison fiduciaries nor anyone acting on their behalf (including HFS) ever requested that the William Blair Fund waive the minimum investment so that the Plan could invest in the institutional share class. Had someone called on behalf of the Plan and requested a waiver of the investment minimum, the William Blair Fund almost certainly would have granted the waiver.”6

Retail “Sale?”

Not that using retail, rather than institutional shares was inherently wrong, even in this situation7. The court acknowledged that in defending the retail-share decision, witnesses for the defendant/employers offered three possible rationales: If the retail share class of a certain mutual fund had significant performance history and a Morningstar rating, but the institutional share class did not; to avoid confusion among participants resulting from frequent changes in the fund; or if there were certain minimum investment requirements, it might preclude the plan from investing in the institutional share classes. Judge Stephen V. Wilson didn’t say whether he would have found those arguments compelling—but then, he didn’t need to bother because, as he noted in the ruling, “None of these explanations is supported by the facts in this case.”

Rather, he noted that “[t]he Investments Staff simply recommended adding the retail share classes of these three funds without any consideration of whether the institutional share classes offered greater benefits to the Plan participants. Thus, the Plan fiduciaries responsible for selecting the mutual funds (the Investment Committees) were not informed about the institutional share classes and did not conduct a thorough investigation.”

Nor was it sufficient that the plan fiduciaries employed the services of an investment adviser. As the court noted: “While securing independent advice from HFS is some evidence of a thorough investigation, it is not a complete defense to a charge of imprudence. At the very least, the Plan fiduciaries must make certain that reliance on the expert’s advice is reasonably justified.”

It is nearly incomprehensible to me—and I would guess to most of you—that in this day and age, a plan fiduciary could be aware of the distinctions of an institutional share class7, and not take advantage of them.

Perhaps, since participants were paying the freight, the fee differential was simply out of sight and thus out of mind. But I’m guessing that the investment committee saw its duty as restricted to the selection and review of the most appropriate investment options under the terms of the IPS, regardless of cost. I wouldn’t be surprised if they saw expense management as the responsibility of the administrative committee—which, doubtless, either assumed that the investment committee’s deliberation included a consideration of fees, or didn’t feel equipped and/or empowered to inquire as to the availability of a less expensive class of shares. Perhaps both felt that their investment adviser was taking those factors into consideration. Ironically, it may well be that this program had so much structure and process that everybody thought somebody else was dealing with the one thing that now seems so obvious, it’s hard to imagine it was overlooked for so long.

Whatever the explanation, it’s clear that nobody was asking the right questions8, and thus, nobody—including the plan participants—was getting the right answer.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

1 This writer—and the Department of Labor—have had issues with the approach embraced by the courts in more than one of these revenue-sharing suits (see “IMHO: Court “Case”, “IMHO: The ‘Burden’ of Proof”, “IMHO: Second Opinions”, “IMHO: Winning Ways”, “IMHO: The Letter of the Law”).

2 see “IMHO: Fighting Words” at

3 Plaintiffs filed the suit as a class action on August 16, 2007, against Defendants Edison International, Southern California Edison Company, the Southern California Edison Company Benefits Committee, the Edison International Trust Investment Committee, the Secretary of the SCE Benefits Committee, SCE’s Vice President of Human Resources, and the Manager of SCE’s Human Resources Service Center.

4 Nor was the revenue-sharing arrangement hidden. The use of revenue-sharing to offset recordkeeping fees was not only discussed with employee unions, the court noted that the arrangement was disclosed to participants on approximately 17 occasions after the practice began in 1999.

5 In the course of that review, Ertel realized that the institutional share class of the PIMCO Fund had a significant performance history and a Morningstar rating, whereas the retail share class did not. Ertel also realized that the institutional share class charged less 12b-1 fees to the Plan participants. Thus, the Investments Staff recommended, and the Investment Committees adopted the recommendation, that the retail shares of the PIMCO Fund should be transferred into the institutional share class. These facts are very telling: In the one instance in which the Plan fiduciaries actually reviewed the different share classes of one of these three funds, the fiduciaries realized that it would be prudent to invest in the institutional share class rather than the retail share class. Had they done this diligence earlier, the same conclusion would have been apparent with regard to all three funds, and the Plan participants would have saved thousands of dollars in fees.

6 It surely didn’t help matters any that the expert witness hired by the employer-defendants testified that he had obtained waivers for plans as small as $50 million in total assets, and from the same funds as those in question here.

7 Lest some try to rely on this decision as absolute proof that the use of retail class funds is inherently imprudent in 401(k) plans, the court acknowledged in a footnote that “[p]laintiffs are not contending, and the Court has not found, that the mere inclusion of some retail share classes in the Plan constituted a violation of the duty of prudence. The only issue here is whether it was a breach of the duty of prudence to select retail shares rather than institutional shares of the same mutual fund where the only difference between the two share classes was that the retail share class charged a higher fee.”

8 Perhaps including this court. Though there were six funds in question, only three were the focus of the ruling, and for which the plan fiduciaries were held to account for the difference in costs between the retail and institutional shares. The other three were added to the fund menu earlier, apparently outside the applicable statute of limitations, but otherwise seemed to have the same institutional/retail class issues—yet the court rebuffed those claims.

What was the difference? Well, it seems that the plaintiffs didn’t challenge the initial decision to invest (my guess would be because they knew it was outside the statute of limitations), but they did argue that there were subsequent events (change in fund name, manager, etc.) that should have triggered a fresh review, a review in which they argued the whole institutional/retail issue should have arisen, and thus they should be liable as they were in the case of the funds added later. However, this judge was apparently only focusing on the initial decision, and found no reason that the subsequent fund changes should have triggered a full review, and thus—no violation of fiduciary duty. So much for the duty to monitor.

Court 'Case'

For all the fuss about fees, a recent friend of the court filing by the Department of Labor reminds us that it’s not just what you pay, it’s what you get for what you pay.

The amicus brief had the DoL once again weighing in on another in the series of revenue-sharing suits that have kept the industry stirred up since the first wave was filed in 2006. Once again, the DoL was expressing its sense that there were real, and triable, issues in the case, this one involving Exelon Corporation (see “Solis Asks Court to Overturn Exelon Excessive Fee Case Decision”).

The DoL had previously expressed similar concerns about a similar dismissal in the same judicial district in a case involving Deere & Co. (see “Hecker Fee Case Prompts Exelon Suit Dismissal”)—a dismissal that was affirmed by the appellate court, and that the U.S. Supreme Court has refused to reconsider.

Those concerns weren’t enough to influence the appellate court in the Hecker case, though it did result in a judicial addendum that sought to limit the broader applicability of its reasoning to cases outside the specific facts in the Hecker case (see “7th Circuit Panel Limits Ruling's 404(c) Effects”). That said, the same court rejected the plaintiff’s arguments in Loomis v. Exelon Corp. as being nearly identical to those in Hecker—and dismissed it just as summarily.

Retail Fail?

In its most recent filing, the Labor Department sought to distinguish the two cases, noting that it wasn’t just the mere allegation that a large plan was offering mutual funds with “retail level fees,” but that—since those participants weren’t receiving services beyond those of any retail customer—those fees were, at least arguably, excessive(1). In fact, the DoL’s amicus brief noted that “[b]y continually returning to the point that the panel's opinion was limited to the particular facts as alleged, Hecker clearly and deliberately left the door open for other cases like this one in which the allegations about fees are tied directly to allegations about services.”

The Labor Department also took issue with the court’s admonitions that fiduciaries had no obligation to “scour the market” for the cheapest fees. “[T]he holding that fiduciaries are not duty-bound to ‘scour the market’ to find the lowest possible fees should not be read to mean they are free to pay any fee the market bears, without making a diligent effort to assure that they are getting reasonable services for the fees comparable to what prudently managed plans of similar size and type plans also pay.”

And the DoL also said that the district court made a mistake by “ruling instead, without inquiry, that the mere existence of fee ratios comparable to those in Hecker (.03 to .96% in this case) meant that the fees must be reasonable and prudently selected....” Indeed, the DoL noted that “[n]othing in ERISA or Hecker establishes that a particular numerical range of fees is either per se prudent or per se imprudent, or authorizes the courts to fashion a simple numerical test, without regard to what the evidence actually shows after the plaintiffs have been given an opportunity to present their case at trial or on summary judgment.” While the court’s reliance on Hecker as a basis for dismissal drew most of the DoL’s focus, it also pointed out that “[i]n an ERISA case alleging excessive fees in terms very similar to the allegations at issue here, the Eighth Circuit, reversing the district court's grant of a motion to dismiss, recently recognized the presumptive inappropriateness of dismissing a prudence claim at the pleadings stage.”(2)

However, at the heart of the DoL’s stance is, as it has been before, that the plaintiffs in the Exelon case had presented a case sufficient to be entitled to their day in court—and that the court’s dismissal of those claims was too preemptory(3), (4), too willing (though not perhaps in so many words) to apply a presumption of prudence to the decisions of the fiduciaries.(5)

What we don’t know yet, of course, is how much extra in types or number of services might be required to justify the payment of retail-level fees by a retirement program (especially a large one)(6), what kind of differential in penalties a court might apply if it found a “reasonable” gap—or if the 7th Circuit will reconsider its threshold for making that case.

However, what we can reasonably infer from the amicus filing is that the Labor Department thinks it should—and that the fiduciary threshold for a plan, certainly a large plan(7), is and, IMHO, should be, more than merely paying retail-level fees for retail-level service.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD


(1) Unlike the Hecker plaintiffs, the Exelon plaintiffs make very clear that they have not received more services for the same amount of money, and therefore the fees are not appropriate for an institutional investor.”

“The participants' amended complaint distinguished it from the one in Hecker by specifically alleging that the challenged fees were too high, not just in the abstract, but in relation to the services received.”

(2) “In Braden v. Wal-Mart, 588 F.3d 585, 595 (8th Cir. 2009), the court held that the plaintiff met the pleading requirements of Twombly and Iqbal, and was not required to plead additional facts explaining precisely how the fiduciaries' conduct was unlawful.” (see “8th Circuit Says Wal-Mart 401(k) Suit Requires Further Discussion”)

(3) “Considering the fact-intensive nature of most ERISA fiduciary-breach claims, and the near monopoly defendants often have over many of the determinative facts, the statutory scheme militates against dismissal at the pleadings stage in the ordinary fiduciary-breach case.”

(4)” It was therefore error for the district court to decide at this stage that under any plausible inference based on the facts as alleged, the defendants could not possibly have acted imprudently when they selected investment options charging retail-level fees and providing retail-level services without, according to the allegations, attempting to obtain the fees (or services) that plans of comparable size are expected to secure in the institutional-fund market.”

(5)” For the reasons stated above, the dismissal was error, not only because it was based on a misreading of Hecker, but because it misapplied the established pleading standards and gave the benefit of the doubt to the wrong party.”

(6) While the DoL’s amicus brief was technically in support of giving the plaintiffs an opportunity to plead their case, it also tipped its hand on what those findings might mean: “It (the plaintiff suit) alleges that the Plan fiduciaries breached their statutory duties by imprudently selecting Plan investment options that were unreasonably expensive for the plan's size and bargaining power and did not provide services commensurate with their high fees.

(7) Such conduct, if true, would constitute a breach of fiduciary duty under ERISA and would make the responsible fiduciaries liable for any resulting losses.”

See also “IMHO: The ‘Burden’ of Proof”

Income Tacts

I don’t know if you’ve gotten to this point in your year yet, but we’ve started doing taxes in our household.

Now, tax season’s not quite the arduous experience it once was—not since that fateful “encounter” with the AMT a couple of years back, along with a year replete with a variety of “special” events, that finally persuaded me that it was a better use of my time to enlist the services of an expert. Still, there is the process of gathering the requisite information from which that expert can do his thing (aided in no small part by the order in which my better half keeps our financial house), and it provides a good opportunity to get a 30,000 foot perspective on how we spend (and invest) our money.

This year—as in most years—I was astounded at how much of our household income is absorbed by various taxes—federal, state, local/property, and, yes, FICA (which I consider a tax—but that’s a subject for another day). Indeed, while I have an opportunity to see most of these reduce my take-home every pay day, that never has quite the same impact as seeing what it adds up to over a year’s time. After all, it’s one thing to hear people talk about tax rates and tax brackets, credits, deductions, and allowances—or even to see those interim deductions on those payroll stubs. It is another altogether to see, all in one place, how much of one’s household income is “rendered unto Caesar.” This may be a free country, after all, but that doesn’t mean it’s cheap.

For all the angst and drama about fee disclosure, most plan participants are already given a fair amount of information about the costs of their retirement plan accounts. Of course, it’s generally in tiny little numbers in tiny little print—numbers that look like pennies (fractions of pennies, actually) and are expressed not in dollars and cents, but basis points, or bps (1). That doesn’t change the fact that most participants could, if they were so inclined, figure out how much their 401(k) costs. All they would have to do is sit down with their year-end statement and the prospectuses associated with the funds they have invested in, and—setting aside for a second potential “distortions” like interfund transfers (of which there generally aren’t many), the timing of contributions deposited, and the fluctuating value of the fund over the course of the year, and ignoring the impact of things like trading costs within the fund—they could get a respectable, if not completely precise, sense of how much they are paying.

Of course, what they’d also get, if they took the time to do that, is a single figure that would show them what they paid for their 401(k) last year.

Now, like many of those government taxes, those 401(k) fees are a toll that is taken along the way. For years this industry has fretted about the difficulties of producing that single number at a participant level—and, the way those fees are currently structured, that concern is not without merit (2). Some have suggested that producing that figure would produce an unhealthy focus on fees alone, rather than the broader context of a total return; others, that the additional costs of producing that figure would be prohibitive (3), and that participants wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate the array of services they are receiving for those expenditures.

That said, as “easy” as the largely imbedded nature of retirement plan fees makes it to extract them for the investment fund community, it also renders them largely invisible to the investing public.

As a consumer, when it comes to buying things like a car, I may not care (or need to care) how much commission that car salesman gets, how much the manufacturer paid for the tires, or even how much profit the dealership makes. But, at the end of the day, I expect—and have a right to expect—to know how much I am paying for the vehicle I drive off the lot. As a taxpayer, I may not know or fully appreciate just how much of my taxes go to support what services (and I may disagree with some that I do), but, at least once a year, I’ve got an opportunity to know how much I am paying in aggregate (and, generally on a somewhat less frequent basis, I have an opportunity to do something about it).

Unfortunately, as a 401(k) investor, I’m still largely in the dark—and, IMHO, the sooner participants know how much they are paying, the better off we’ll all be.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

1 In my experience, most “regular” people don’t know what a basis point is (many don’t quite seem to understand what a mutual fund is), and many don’t read the prospectus where such things are explained.

2 One might cynically suggest that perhaps a methodology that would be easier to communicate might be more appropriate.

3 Frankly, IMHO, some of the proposals that have been made to present this information to participants would kill a lot of trees AND shed little in the way of clarity.

The Benefits of the Doubt

Those who were wondering when—or perhaps if—the issues raised in those revenue-sharing lawsuits would ever actually be tried got a strong, affirmative response last week.

This time, the 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals found triable issues of fact in a case involving Wal-Mart’s 401(k) plan (“8th Circuit Says Wal-Mart 401(k) Suit Requires Further Discussion”), sending the case back for another hearing by the trial court that had dismissed issues raised in the lawsuit, while also taking the time (at least in a footnote) to distinguish some of its findings from a similar case (Hecker v. Deere) that had failed to clear the bar in another circuit (see "The 'Burden' of Proof").

But, IMHO, what distinguishes the ruling in Braden v. Wal-Mart Stores Inc. from all the revenue-sharing cases that have been adjudicated thus far is that the 8th Circuit judges were willing to concede that the plaintiff had alleged facts that, at least on the surface, were sufficient to support a potential claim.

Now, in fairness, the court applied a fairly traditional standard of review in evaluating the motion to dismiss; to give the benefit of the doubt, if you will, to the perspective of the party who has not made a motion to dismiss the case without moving to trial—and it admonished the lower court for not doing so in plain language. In its ruling, the 8th Circuit not only said that the lower court “ignored reasonable inferences supported by the facts alleged,” it went on to criticize that court for not only drawing inferences in favor of the party (Wal-Mart) that had made the motion to dismiss, but for criticizing the plaintiff for “failing to plead facts tending to contradict those inferences.”

What's Different?

So, what did the court find compelling enough to give this case a fuller hearing? The “relatively limited” (10) menu of fund options “selected by Wal-Mart executives despite the ready availability of better options”—“better” in this case including the fact that they were retail rather than institutional class mutual fund shares (there are other, and IMHO weaker, allegations about performance relative to benchmarks and the use of actively managed funds, rather than index alternatives). And then, perhaps by way of “explaining” the use of these allegedly inferior options, plaintiff Braden notes that the Wal-Mart plan funds “made revenue sharing payments to the trustee, Merrill Lynch, and that these payments were not made in exchange for services rendered, but rather were a quid pro quo for inclusion in the Plan.”

Now, IMHO, the plaintiff’s case isn’t ironclad. Even in its ruling sending the case back for another shot, the 8th Circuit noted that “there may well be lawful reasons appellees chose the challenged investment options.” However, that court also pointed out it was not the plaintiff’s job to rule out those alternatives—nor was it, in the appellate court’s view, appropriate for the trial court to basically assume that because there might be alternative explanations, no further inquiry was warranted.

The Duty to Disclose

There is another interesting aspect to the case, IMHO—and it has to do with the duty to disclose revenue-sharing arrangements. While I believe all of the cases presented to date have claimed that such a duty exists—and that every court that has heard that argument to date has just as readily refuted it—the 8th Circuit had a different take. “In the context of this case, materiality turns on the effect information would have on a reasonable participant's decisions about how to allocate his or her investments among the options in the Plan,” the court noted.

The impact of that materiality was heightened by allegations that “those payments corrupted the fund selection process—that each fund was selected for inclusion in the Plan because it made payments to the trustee, and not because it was a prudent investment,” according to the court. And “[i]f true, this information could influence a reasonable participant in evaluating his or her options under the Plan,” the court said – even as it acknowledged that there is no per se duty to disclose these arrangements.

Finally, the 8th Circuit took the lower court to task for basically insisting that the plaintiff prove that the revenue-sharing payments were unreasonable before trial (a threshold that it notes would have been impossible, even if legitimate, since the arrangement between Wal-Mart and Merrill Lynch was confidential).

The 8th Circuit’s actions here don’t necessarily portend a shift in result for these cases, nor should it suggest that there is anything about this particular case that is markedly distinctive from similar cases brought in other jurisdictions. That said, to this point, the courts have, IMHO, been extraordinarily willing to give the employer/fiduciaries the benefit of the doubt in these revenue-sharing cases.

It will be interesting to see how the allegations hold up to a full adjudication of the facts.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

IMHO: Tractor “Trailer”

About a week ago, Caterpillar agreed to a $16.5 million settlement of one of those allegedly excessive fee/revenue-sharing lawsuits.

It was the first of these suits—launched in September 2006—to come to some sort of “resolution” though, IMHO, it hardly qualifies as such (see “Caterpillar Ready to Ink $16.5M Fee Suit Settlement”).

That said, the settlement’s terms were not just financial; it also included a series of changes in how Caterpillar agreed to administer the plan and monitor its investments. First off, during a two-year settlement period, Caterpillar agreed to "increase and enhance communication with employees about 401(k) investment options and associated fees,” as well as hiring an independent fiduciary (at least during that same two-year period)—and it has also apparently said that it would detail specific fees charged to participants. Caterpillar says it will avoid retail mutual funds as core investment options for the plans, and that the plan’s recordkeeping fees would be “limited,” specifically calculated on a flat or per-participant basis, rather than drawn from asset-based fees (which can go up—or down—with, IMHO, little correlation to the recordkeeping services associated with those asset values).

Caterpillar also committed to not allowing investment consultants to also serve as investment managers and to not receiving compensation from plan investments. Note that from 1992 to 2006 (actually up till about four months before the revenue-sharing suit was brought), the company offered plan investors a group of mutual funds that were advised by a wholly owned subsidiary (that subsidiary now sold off).

So, who are the winners—and losers—here?

Well, while it surely will be categorized as a “win” by those pursuing these suits, and it’s certainly not a loss for them, IMHO, it’s more accurately described as the other party saying “uncle.” In fairness, these suits haven’t fared too well in court—actually, they have had a hard time getting past the hearing stage (see "IMHO:The "Burden" of Proof"). That doesn’t mean they don’t cost the firms being sued time and money; as a mentor of mine once cautioned, “You can spend a lot of money in court being right.” Doubtless, Caterpillar, whatever it saw as the merits of pursuing its defense (admittedly, because for a long period of time, the firm’s money management unit oversaw some of the funds in question, it might have been more vulnerable to charges of excessive fees) eventually figured there were better ways to spend its time and money.

Presumably the Caterpillar participants will benefit as well—from whatever part of the monetary settlement doesn’t go to the lawyers, as well as from the changes in operation agreed to by Caterpillar. Some will no doubt argue that the terms agreed to by this employer will hereafter become something of a talisman for other firms to contemplate, if not adopt, in their own programs. And, talisman status notwithstanding, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.

However, for those of us on the outside, a settlement is something of a disappointment. Whatever the basis in fact of these lawsuits, they have now, IMHO, put in play legitimate issues of concern for plan sponsors, advisers, and providers—issues that extend well beyond the “starter set” of firms currently involved in this litigation. Issues that, admittedly, the courts have largely dismissed to date, but issues that one senses (if only because the Department of Labor seems not to fully concur with the judicial renderings to date) remain an unsettled area—and one therefore still ripe for litigation. Litigation that, ironically, might later point to plan changes adopted in the wake of these developments as some kind of “smoking gun” admission of impropriety.

So, while the decision to settle may well mark the end of uncertainty for one employer in such matters, it seems to me that it leaves the situation even more UNsettled for the rest of us.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD

The settlement announcement is online HERE

See also Case Sensitive, “Limit” Ed

Under New Management

Sitting in the audience at the ASPPA/DoL Speaks conference last week, I was reminded just how disruptive it can be to have a new boss.

The conference, which, IMHO, remains unique in both the quantity and quality of access to Labor Department exports, featured many panelists it has been my pleasure to meet and get to know over the past several years. However we practitioners may struggle from time to time with the regulations and interpretations these folks put together, you don’t have to spend much time with any of them to appreciate just how smart, hard-working, and dedicated they are.

Still, I can only imagine what it must have been like to have pressed (as they were surely pressed) to wrap up as much of the pending backlog of regulations in 2008. How it must have felt to see that last package—including the final regulations on investment advice—get all the way to the regulatory finish line, only to have it halted dead in its tracks (see White House Executive Order Snares Fee Disclosure, Advice Regs). And then, over a period of weeks/months, have that work rejiggered, perhaps significantly, “simply” because an election, based on factors that had nothing to do with these issues, brought in new leadership (see EBSA Sets Out Carrot, Stick Agenda).

Starting Over?

Let’s face it, even in the private sector, managers and CEOs fall out of favor all the time and new ones are brought in, along with their new ideas (and sometimes their old friends). Advisers have seen plenty of that over these past 12 tumultuous months.

But for our industry, a few things seem obvious among those “new” priorities: a continued, and probably more insistent, emphasis on transparency in fees and revenue sharing; the rebuilding of walls between advice and compensation flows that could vary based on that counsel; and greater clarity in the targeting and positioning of target-date funds. But, frankly, while we may now achieve those aims in different ways, IMHO, it is at least arguable that we were already on those paths, or would have been shortly.

Looking Ahead

That said, there is a palpable sense that the new leadership will be less employer-friendly than its predecessors, though that need not mean unfriendly. They may be less willing to accept the rationalizations of those who protest that it is too hard, or too expensive, to provide meaningful information to plan fiduciaries; and, though it’s early yet, they seem more inclined to shield, rather than simply inform, participants. Time will tell.

Change, of course, is not only inevitable, it is frequently for the good. It is nearly always, however, “disruptive” as we shift and resift priorities and focus, certainly in the short-term. However, IMHO, if there’s a more disruptive force than change in our lives, it’s uncertainty.

And, for better or worse, I’m betting that this new Administration won’t leave us guessing for long.

—Nevin E. Adams, JD