The Business Judgment Rule as

Abstention Doctrine

Stephen M. Bainbridge*

I. INTRODUCTION ...................................................................... 83
II. THE COMPETING CONCEPTIONS OF THE BUSINESS
JUDGMENT RULE: AN ABSTENTION DOCTRINE OR A
STANDARD OF LIABILITY? ...................................................... 88
A. Technicolor: The Business Judgment Rule as a
Standard of Liability ................................................. 90
B. Shlensky v. Wrigley: Abstention in Action ................ 95
C. Why It Matters Doctrinally...................................... 100
III. FIRST PRINCIPLES: DIRECTOR PRIMACY AND THE
TENSION BETWEEN AUTHORITY AND ACCOUNTABILITY ...... 102
A. The Centrality of Fiat: Authority-Based
Governance............................................................... 104
B. The Trade-Off Between Authority and
Accountability .......................................................... 107
IV. JUSTIFYING ABSTENTION: WHY SHLENSKY GOT IT RIGHT
AND TECHNICOLOR DIDN’T .................................................. 109
A. Encouraging Risk Taking........................................ 110
B. Judges Are Not Business Experts ............................ 117
C. Impact on the Board’s Internal Dynamics............... 124
D. Why Judges Must Abstain ....................................... 127
V. CONCLUSION ........................................................................ 129

I. INTRODUCTION

The business judgment rule pervades every aspect of state

corporate law, from the review of allegedly negligent decisions by
directors, to self-dealing transactions, to board decisions to seek
dismissal of shareholder litigation, and so on.1 Countless cases invoke

* Professor, UCLA School of Law. I am grateful to Mike Dooley for comments on an earlier draft.

Portions of this article are adapted from Chapter 6 of my book CORPORATION LAW AND
ECONOMICS (2003), with permission of the publisher, Foundation Press.
1. See, e.g., Auerbach v. Bennett, 393 N.E.2d 994 (N.Y. 1979) (dismissal of derivative
litigation); Sinclair Oil Corp. v. Levien, 280 A.2d 717 (Del. 1971) (fiduciary duties of controlling

83

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84 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

it and countless scholars have analyzed it.2 Yet, despite all of the
attention lavished on it, the business judgment rule remains poorly
understood.3 We lack a coherent and unified theory that explains why
the rule exists and where its limits should be placed.4 This article
offers such a theory.
My analysis is grounded on the core proposition that the
business judgment rule, like all of corporate law, is designed to effect a
compromise—on a case-by-case basis—between two competing values:
authority and accountability.5 These values refer, respectively, to the
need to preserve the board of directors’ decision-making discretion and
the need to hold the board accountable for its decisions.6 Academic
commentary on the business judgment rule strongly emphasizes
accountability—i.e., the need to deter and remedy misconduct by the
firm’s decision makers and agents.7 Although the separation of

shareholder); Shlensky v. Wrigley, 237 N.E.2d 776 (Ill. App. Ct. 1968) (operational decision). So-
called “business judgment rules” may also be found in the law of other forms of business
organizations, where they likewise protect the “good faith business decisions” of the
organizations’ board of directors or comparable organ of authority “from interference by the
courts.” Lee v. Interins. Exch. of the Auto. Club of S. Cal., 57 Cal. Rptr. 2d 798, 802 (Cal. Ct. App.
1997) (holding that business judgment rule applies to business decisions of the board of
governors of a reciprocal insurance exchange); see also Barnes v. State Farm Mut. Auto. Ins. Co.,
20 Cal. Rptr. 2d 87 (Cal. Ct. App. 1993) (holding likewise as to board of mutual insurance
company).
2. See Michael J. Kennedy, The Business Judgment Syllogism—Premises Governing Board
Activity, in TECHNOLOGY & EMERGING GROWTH M&AS 2002, at 285, 327 (PLI Corp. Law &
Practice Course, Handbook Series No. B01-01DE, 2002), available at WL 1316 PLI/Corp 285
(opining that “[t]here are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of cases that peel the onion of the
business judgment rule’s parameters.”).
3. See, e.g., R. Franklin Balotti & James J. Hanks, Jr., Rejudging the Business Judgment
Rule, 48 BUS. LAW. 1337, 1342 (1993) (arguing that neither of the most widely “avowed bases for
the business judgment rule is particularly persuasive”); Franklin A. Gevurtz, The Business
Judgment Rule: Meaningless Verbiage or Misguided Notion?, 67 S. CAL. L. REV. 287, 287-88
(1994) (arguing that “the general concept behind the rule seems unassailable” but that “a
problem occurs when courts and writers attempt to inject specific content into this general
proposition—immediately, a lack of consensus emerges as to what the rule really is”); Henry G.
Manne, Our Two Corporation Systems: Law and Economics, 53 VA. L. REV. 259, 270 (1967)
(noting that the business judgment rule is “one of the least understood concepts in the entire
corporate field”).
4. See Kenneth B. Davis, Jr., Once More, the Business Judgment Rule, 2000 WIS. L. REV.
573, 573 (observing that “thousands of pages of corporate law scholarship and commentary have
been devoted to” a search for the rationale underlying the business judgment rule, “yet we
remain short of any broad consensus”).
5. See STEPHEN M. BAINBRIDGE, CORPORATION LAW AND ECONOMICS 208 (2002) (noting the
“tension between authority and accountability”).
6. See id. at 207 (arguing that setting the “proper mix of discretion and accountability” is
“the central corporate governance question”).
7. See, e.g., Lawrence A. Cunningham, Commonalities and Prescriptions in the Vertical
Dimension of Global Corporate Governance, 84 CORNELL L. REV. 1133, 1183 (1999) (positing a
purported “lack of accountability” that “exists because of the business judgment rule and the
rhetorical nature of fiduciary duty law”); Frank H. Easterbrook & Daniel R. Fischel, The Proper

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 85

ownership and control in modern public corporations inevitably raises

important accountability concerns,8 accountability standing alone is
an inadequate normative account of corporate law.9 A fully specified
account of corporate law must incorporate the value of authority—i.e.,
the need to develop a set of corporate governance rules and standards
that enable corporations to adopt efficient decision-making systems
and processes.10 In this article, I argue that corporate decision-making
efficiency can be ensured only by preventing the board’s decision-
making authority from being trumped by courts under the guise of
judicial review.
Readers familiar with my recent work will recognize the
themes developed herein as an application of my director primacy
theory.11 The director primacy model is designed to answer the two
basic corporate governance questions. First, which constituency’s
interests will prevail when the ultimate decision maker is presented
with a zero sum game? Second, in which organ of the corporation is
that ultimate power of decision vested?12 In the academic literature,
the prevailing answers to these questions are provided by the
shareholder primacy model.13 Although its precise dimensions vary
from one of its advocates to another, a shareholder primacy-based

Role of a Target’s Management in Responding to a Tender Offer, 94 HARV. L. REV. 1161, 1202-03
(1981) (noting in the context of target management resistance to unsolicited takeover bids that
“application of the usual business judgment rule would give managers free rein to carry out
disguised programs of resistance”); cf. David Millon, New Game Plan or Business as Usual? A
Critique of the Team Production Model of Corporate Law, 86 VA. L. REV. 1001, 1021 (2000) (citing
the business judgment rule as an example of how “corporate law pays lip service to shareholder
primacy,” but “is actually ineffective when it comes to rendering management accountable to the
shareholders”); Mark J. Roe, Corporate Law’s Limits, 31 J. LEGAL STUD. 233, 233 (noting that
“the business judgment rule puts beyond direct legal inquiry most key agency costs—such as
overexpansion, overinvestment, and reluctance to take on profitable but uncomfortable risks”).
8. See infra note 143 and accompanying text.
9. See Michael P. Dooley, Two Models of Corporate Governance, 47 BUS. LAW. 461, 463
(1992) (stating that “neither [authority nor accountability] could provide a sensible guide to the
governance of firm-organized economic activity because each seeks to achieve a distinct and
separate value that is essential to the survival of any firm”).
10. See id. at 463-64 (noting corporate law’s concern with the value of authority, which he
defines as being concerned with identifying “substantive rules and procedures [that] best
supports the most efficient decision-making process for the publicly held firm”).
11. See, e.g., Stephen M. Bainbridge, Director Primacy: The Means and Ends of Corporate
Governance, 97 NW. U. L. REV. 547 (2003) [hereinafter Bainbridge, Director Primacy]; Stephen
M. Bainbridge, Director Primacy in Corporate Takeovers: Preliminary Reflections, 55 STAN. L.
REV. 791 (2002) [hereinafter Bainbridge, Preliminary Reflections]. I should acknowledge the debt
director primacy owes to Professor Dooley’s so-called “Authority Model,” whose “heart” is said to
be “the universally recognized requirement for the establishment of, and vesting of supreme
authority in, the board of directors.” Dooley, supra note 9, at 467.
12. Bainbridge, Director Primacy, supra note 11, at 549-50.
13. Id. at 563 (noting that “most corporate law scholars embrace some variant of
shareholder primacy”).

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86 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

model generally posits, both as a normative and a positive matter,

that corporate decision-making powers must be exercised so as to
maximize shareholder wealth14 and that shareholders wield some
form of ultimate decision-making power in the firm, despite the
separation of ownership and control in public corporations.15 In
contrast, I have argued elsewhere that shareholder primacy is neither
normatively persuasive nor descriptively accurate.16
The director primacy model thus stands as an alternative to
the prevailing shareholder primacy view. The director primacy model
describes the corporation as a vehicle by which the board of directors
hires various factors of production. The board of directors is not an
agent of the shareholders; rather, the board is the embodiment of the
corporate principal, serving as the nexus of the various contracts
making up the corporation.17 From the descriptive perspective,
director primacy claims that fiat—centralized decision making—is the
essential attribute of efficient corporate governance.18 In turn, it
claims that authority—i.e., the power and right to exercise decision-
making fiat—is vested neither in the shareholders nor in the
managers, but rather in the board of directors.19 From the normative
perspective, director primacy acknowledges that vesting the power of
fiat in the board of directors raises legitimate accountability concerns.
In turn, director primacy thus identifies the tension between authority
and accountability as the central problem of corporate law.20 In this

14. To be sure, a number of commentators have argued that the business judgment rule—
and, indeed, corporate law generally—is not premised on shareholder wealth maximization. See,
e.g., Margaret M. Blair & Lynn A. Stout, A Team Production Theory of Corporate Law, 85 VA. L.
REV. 247, 303 (1999) (arguing that the business judgment rule authorizes directors to make
trade-offs between shareholder and nonshareholder interests); Kent Greenfield & John E.
Nilsson, Gradgrind’s Education: Using Dickens and Aristotle to Understand (and Replace?) the
Business Judgment Rule, 63 BROOK. L. REV. 799, 831 (1997) (arguing that the business judgment
rule reflects “an underlying distrust of the strict fiduciary duty to maximize shareholder
returns”); D. Gordon Smith, The Shareholder Primacy Norm, 23 J. CORP. L. 277, 286-87 (1998)
(arguing that the business judgment rule precludes liability where directors fail to maximize
shareholder wealth). I have addressed (and rejected) these arguments elsewhere. BAINBRIDGE,
supra note 5, at 257-58.
15. See generally Bainbridge, Director Primacy, supra note 11, at 564-68 (describing
shareholder primacy).
16. Id. at 563-74.
17. See generally Stephen M. Bainbridge, The Board of Directors as Nexus of Contracts, 88
IOWA L. REV. 1 (2002).
18. Id. at 20.
19. Id. at 25.
20. Bainbridge, Director Primacy, supra note 11, at 604.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 87

article, I argue that the business judgment rule is the principal

mechanism by which corporate law resolves that tension.21
The business judgment rule commonly is understood today as a
standard of liability by which courts review the decisions of the board
of directors.22 In this article, by contrast, I argue that the rule is better
understood as a doctrine of abstention pursuant to which courts in fact
refrain from reviewing board decisions unless exacting preconditions
for review are satisfied.23 Part II argues that the abstention doctrine is
implicit in some cases, especially older ones. Part II focuses on two
exemplar cases illustrating these competing conceptions of the
business judgment rule. Shlensky v. Wrigley remains a classic
expression of the business judgment rule as a doctrine of judicial
abstention.24 In Shlensky and similar cases, the rule creates a strong
presumption against judicial review of duty-of-care claims. Courts
following this approach to the rule will abstain from reviewing the
substantive merits of the directors’ conduct unless the plaintiff can
carry the very heavy burden of rebutting that presumption. In
contrast, Cede & Co. v. Technicolor, Inc. illustrates the modern trend
towards treating the business judgment rule as a substantive doctrine,
expressing the scope of director liability, and permitting courts some
room to examine the substantive merits of the board’s decision.25
Deciding between these competing conceptions of the business
judgment rule is critical. Because the two conceptions contemplate
dramatically different approaches to judicial review, the choice
between them can have outcome-determinative effects.
The remainder of the article develops the case for reviving—
and making more explicit—the older abstention approach by exploring
the tension between the business judgment rule and the duty of care.
On the one hand, the duty of care requires that directors exercise
reasonable care in making corporate decisions.26 On the other hand,
the business judgment rule mandates that courts defer to the board of

21. I anticipated some of the arguments developed more fully herein in Bainbridge, Director
Primacy, supra note 11, at 600-05, where I used the business judgment rule as a case study of
director primacy in action.
22. See infra notes 37-39 and accompanying text.
23. Although courts rarely refer to the business judgment rule as an abstention doctrine, I
argue that the principle of abstention is implicit in one of the two major lines of business
judgment rule cases. See infra Part II.B (describing that line of cases).
24. 237 N.E.2d 776 (Ill. App. Ct. 1968).
25. 634 A.2d 345 (Del. 1993).
26. Specifically, the duty of care requires corporate directors to exercise “that amount of
care which ordinarily careful and prudent men would use in similar circumstances.” Graham v.
Allis-Chalmers Mfg. Co., 188 A.2d 125, 130 (Del. 1963).

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88 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

directors’ judgment absent highly unusual exceptions.27 Compare the

liability of physicians, who are also held to a duty of care, but whose
medical judgment gets no such deference.28 Why are directors of an
incorporated business entitled to deference that physicians are
denied? After a short review of the director primacy model in Part III,
Part IV of this article answers that question by interweaving the
traditional explanations courts have offered for the rule with an
alternative explanation premised on the director primacy model. As
we shall see, the abstention doctrine conception of the rule follows
logically from that model.

II. THE COMPETING CONCEPTIONS OF THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT

RULE: AN ABSTENTION DOCTRINE OR A STANDARD OF LIABILITY?

Under Delaware law, corporate directors owe the corporation

what the Delaware Supreme Court has taken to calling a “triad” of
fiduciary duties: care; good faith; and loyalty.29 Although the business
judgment rule comes into play with respect to all three of the duties,30
it is most intimately associated with the duty of care.31 As the
Delaware Supreme Court has defined it, the duty of care requires
directors to act with the same “amount of care which ordinarily careful
and prudent men would use in similar circumstances.”32 By invoking
the language of reasonable care, the duty of care seemingly would be
violated whenever directors act negligently.33 At the same time,
however, if the business judgment rule does anything, it insulates
directors from liability for negligence.34 The rule does so by providing

27. See, e.g., Paramount Communications, Inc. v. QVC Network, Inc., 637 A.2d 34, 45 n.17
(Del. 1994) (stating that under the business judgment rule “the Court gives great deference to
the substance of the directors’ decision and will not invalidate the decision [or] examine its
reasonableness”).
28. See FRANKLIN A. GEVURTZ, CORPORATION LAW 290-91 (2000) (discussing the analogies
between director and physician liability).
29. Technicolor, 634 A.2d at 361.
30. See BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 283-85 (noting the numerous contexts in which the
business judgment rule has relevance); see also supra note 1 and accompanying text (noting
pervasive role of the rule in corporation law).
31. Douglas M. Branson, Intracorporate Process and the Avoidance of Director Liability, 24
WAKE FOREST L. REV. 97, 97 (1989) (identifying the business judgment rule as a “corollary” of the
duty of care); Alan R. Palmiter, Reshaping the Corporate Fiduciary Model: A Director’s Duty of
Independence, 67 TEX. L. REV. 1351, 1437 (1989) (same).
32. See, e.g., Graham v. Allis-Chalmers Mfg. Co., 188 A.2d 125, 130 (Del. 1963); see also
MODEL BUS. CORP. ACT § 8.30 (2002).
33. See GEVURTZ, supra note 28, at 274 (suggesting that the duty of care might “involve
nothing more than an application of tort law [negligence] principles to [the corporate] context”).
34. See, e.g., Joy v. North, 692 F.2d 880, 885 (2d Cir. 1982) (holding that “[w]hile it is often
stated that corporate directors and officers will be liable for negligence in carrying out their

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 89

a presumption that the directors or officers “of a corporation acted on

an informed basis, in good faith and in the honest belief that the
action taken was in the best interests of the company.”35 As a result,
even clear mistakes of judgment will not result in personal liability.36
How can this freedom from liability be reconciled with the duty of
care’s negligence-based verbiage?
Two conceptions of the business judgment rule compete in the
case law. One treats the rule as a standard of liability.37 Hence, for

corporate duties, all seem agreed that such a statement is misleading. . . . Whatever the
terminology, the fact is that liability is rarely imposed upon corporate directors or officers simply
for bad judgment and this reluctance to impose liability for unsuccessful business decisions has
been doctrinally labeled the business judgment rule.”); Kamin v. Am. Express Co., 383 N.Y.S.2d
807, 811 (Sup. Ct. 1976) (holding that the duty of care “does not mean that a director is
chargeable with ordinary negligence for having made an improper decision, or having acted
imprudently”), aff’d, 387 N.Y.S.2d 993 (App. Div. 1976); Bayer v. Beran, 49 N.Y.S.2d 2, 6 (Sup.
Ct. 1944) (stating that “although the concept of ‘responsibility’ is firmly fixed in the law, it is only
in a most unusual and extraordinary case that directors are held liable for negligence in the
absence of fraud, or improper motive, or personal interest”).
35. Aronson v. Lewis, 473 A.2d 805, 812 (Del. 1984). Much confusion has been engendered
by the question of whether the business judgment rule is a procedural presumption, a
substantive limitation of liability, or both. See, e.g., S. Samuel Arsht, The Business Judgment
Rule Revisited, 8 HOFSTRA L. REV. 93, 94 (1979) (arguing that the “single term” business
judgment rule leads to confusion because it is “employed with reference to wholly different
aspects of the rule’s application, which are governed by disparate legal principles”); Balotti &
Hanks, supra note 3, at 1345 (contending that the business judgment rule is not a presumption
“in the strict evidentiary sense of the term”). This dispute is beyond the scope of this article.
36. See, e.g., FDIC v. Castetter, 184 F.3d 1040, 1044 (9th Cir. 1999) (noting that “[t]he
California business judgment rule is intended to protect a director from liability for a mistake in
business judgment which is made in good faith and in what he or she believes to be the best
interest of the corporation, where no conflict of interest exists.” (internal quotation marks and
citation omitted)); Strassburger v. Earley, 752 A.2d 557, 582 (Del. 2000) (holding that “[t]he
business judgment rule shields directors from liability for good faith business decisions, even
those that turn out to be mistaken.”).
37. Professor Melvin Eisenberg, for example, views the duty of care as a standard of
conduct and the business judgment rule as a standard of review. Melvin Aron Eisenberg, The
Divergence of Standards of Conduct and Standards of Review in Corporate Law, 62 FORDHAM L.
REV. 437, 444-45 (1993). The former specifies how directors should conduct themselves, while the
latter sets forth the test courts will use in determining whether the directors’ conduct gives rise
to liability. MELVIN ARON EISENBERG, CORPORATIONS AND OTHER BUSINESS ORGANIZATIONS:
CASES AND MATERIALS 544-49 (8th ed. 2000). Unlike typical negligence cases, in which the two
standards are identical, in corporate law they diverge. Id. at 547. The function of the business
judgment rule thus is to create a less demanding standard of review than the (largely
aspirational) standard of conduct created by the duty of care. Id.; see also William T. Allen et al.,
Realigning the Standard of Review of Director Due Care with Delaware Public Policy: A Critique
of Van Gorkom and its Progeny as a Standard of Review Problem, 96 NW. U. L. REV. 449 (2002)
(embracing the standard of conduct/review dichotomy and contending it helps explain Delaware
law).
A version of this distinction is now embodied in the Model Business Corporation Act (MBCA).
MBCA § 8.30 sets forth the standards of conduct for directors, requiring a director to act in good
faith and in a manner the director reasonably believes to be in the corporation’s best interest.
MODEL BUS. CORP. ACT § 8.30(a) (2002). Conduct that satisfies the requirements of § 8.30 cannot
result in liability. Id. § 8.31 cmt. Conduct falling short of those aspirational goals can only result

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90 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

example, some courts and commentators argue that the business

judgment rule shields directors from liability so long as they act in
good faith.38 Others contend that the rule simply raises the liability
bar from mere negligence to, say, gross negligence or recklessness.39
Alternatively, however, the business judgment rule can be seen
as an abstention doctrine. In this conception, the rule’s presumption of
good faith does not state a standard of liability but rather establishes
a presumption against judicial review of duty of care claims.40 The
court therefore abstains from reviewing the substantive merits of the
directors’ conduct unless the plaintiff can rebut the business judgment
rule’s presumption of good faith.41

A. Technicolor: The Business Judgment Rule as a Standard of

Liability

The modern trend is to treat the business judgment rule as a

substantive standard of liability.42 There is some disagreement, even

in liability if it violates the standards of director liability set forth in MBCA § 8.31. Id.
Specifically, liability can be imposed where the director acted in bad faith, did not reasonably
believe the action to be in the corporation’s best interest, was not informed to the extent the
director reasonably believed appropriate under the circumstances, was interested in the
transaction, was not independent, engaged in self dealing, or failed to exercise oversight over a
sustained period. Id. § 8.31(a)(2). For a critique of Eisenberg’s position, as well as the new MBCA
provisions, see D. Gordon Smith, A Proposal to Eliminate Director Standards from the Model
Business Corporation Act, 67 U. CIN. L. REV. 1201 (1999).
38. See GEVURTZ, supra note 28, at 282-84 (describing this position).
39. See id. at 284-86 (discussing this view).
40. Cf. Lyman Johnson, The Modest Business Judgment Rule, 55 BUS. LAW. 625, 632 (2000)
(opining that “[u]nder a proper understanding of the business judgment rule as a policy of non-
review, the ‘substantive’ force of the business judgment rule always applies in a duty of care
case, immunizing the quality of the business decision from judicial review whether or not care
was exercised.”).
41. See, e.g., Brehm v. Eisner, 746 A.2d 244, 264 n.66 (Del. 2000) (stating that “directors’
decisions will be respected by courts unless the directors are interested or lack independence
relative to the decision, do not act in good faith, act in a manner that cannot be attributed to a
rational business purpose or reach their decision by a grossly negligent process that includes the
failure to consider all material facts reasonably available”); Citron v. Fairchild Camera &
Instrument Corp., 569 A.2d 53, 64 (Del. 1989) (stating that if plaintiff “fails to meet her burden
of establishing facts rebutting the presumption, the business judgment rule, as a substantive
rule of law, will attach to protect the directors and the decisions they make”).
42. See, e.g., Omnicare, Inc. v. NCS Healthcare, Inc., 818 A.2d 914, 927 (Del. 2003) (“The
business judgment rule, as a standard of judicial review, is a common-law recognition of the
statutory authority to manage a corporation that is vested in the board of directors.” (footnote
and internal quotation marks omitted)); Wayne O. Hanewicz, When Silence Is Golden: Why the
Business Judgment Rule Should Apply to No-Shops in Stock-for-Stock Merger Agreements, 28 J.
CORP. L. 205, 217 (2003) (asserting that “the standard of conduct for directors is to act
reasonably. But the business judgment rule’s standard of review is much more limited and
diverges sharply from this standard of conduct.”); Report, Corporate Director’s Guidebook: Third
Edition, 56 BUS. LAW. 1571, 1586 (2001) (asserting that “[u]nlike the standards of conduct

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 91

among its proponents, as to the standard of review applied under this

approach. It may be mere subjective good faith, it may be a
requirement of rationality, or it may be gross negligence.43 The key
point, however, is that the business judgment rule, so conceived,
entails “some objective review of the quality of the [board’s] decision,
however limited.”44
A good judicial example of this approach to the business
judgment rule is Cede & Co. v. Technicolor, Inc.45 The stage was set
for this remarkably convoluted litigation in late 1982 when
Technicolor’s board of directors approved merging Technicolor into a
subsidiary of MacAndrews and Forbes Group, Inc. (MAF).46 In the
merger, Technicolor shareholders received $23 cash per share.47
Plaintiff Cinerama, Inc., which owned 4.4 percent of Technicolor’s
outstanding stock, dissented from the merger and filed an appraisal
proceeding.48 As the litigation dragged on, Cinerama brought a
separate suit for damages alleging that Technicolor’s board violated
its duty of care when it approved the merger.49

encompassed in the duties of care and loyalty, the business judgment rule is not a description of
a duty or standard used to determine whether a breach of duty has occurred; rather, it is a
standard of judicial review”); see also infra text accompanying notes 43-44.
43. WILLIAM L. CARY & MELVIN ARON EISENBERG, CORPORATIONS: CASES AND MATERIALS
603 (7th ed. 1995) (discussing these alternatives).
44. Id.; see also GEVURTZ, supra note 28, at 284 (arguing that few cases “unequivocally rule
out any review of objective reasonableness”).
45. 634 A.2d 345 (Del. 1993). No claim is made that Technicolor represents the last word on
Delaware’s business judgment rule jurisprudence. Professor David Skeel persuasively argues
that Delaware corporate decisional law tends to cycle between competing doctrinal approaches to
the same problem, which he attributes to the Delaware Supreme Court’s norm of unanimous
decision making. See generally David A. Skeel, Jr., The Unanimity Norm in Delaware Corporate
Law, 83 VA. L. REV. 127 (1997). As I have demonstrated elsewhere by case analysis, Delaware’s
business judgment rule jurisprudence demonstrates just such a pattern of cycling. See
BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 249-51 (discussing relevant precedents). Indeed, as discussed
below, some years after Technicolor the Delaware Supreme Court articulated a strongly
abstention-oriented version of the business judgment rule in Brehm v. Eisner, 746 A.2d 244 (Del.
2000). See infra notes 103-105 and accompanying text (discussing Brehm). Yet, just a few years
later, in McMullin v. Beran the Delaware Supreme Court reaffirmed the Technicolor approach.
765 A.2d 910, 916-17 (Del. 2000). And so, the cycle goes on.
46. Cede & Co. v. Technicolor, Inc., 13 DEL. J. CORP. L. 225, 231 (Del. Ch. Jan. 13, 1987),
available at 1987 WL 4768, rev’d, 542 A.2d 1182 (Del. 1987).
47. Id.
48. Cede & Co. v. Technicolor, Inc., Civ. A. No. 7129, 1990 WL 161084, at *21 (Del. Ch. Oct.
19, 1990). For discussions of the appraisal proceeding, see generally BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5,
at 632-45; GEVURTZ, supra note 28, at 648-54.
49. See Cede & Co. v. Technicolor, Inc., 542 A.2d 1182, 1190-91 (Del. 1988) (holding that
Cinerama did not have to elect between the appraisal remedy and an action for equitable or legal
relief, but could instead pursue both simultaneously).

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92 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

Cinerama’s claim was premised on the Delaware Supreme

Court’s earlier decision in Smith v. Van Gorkom.50 As with
Technicolor, the Van Gorkom litigation arose out of a shareholder’s
duty-of-care-based challenge to a board of directors’ decision to
approve a merger.51 In concluding that the business judgment rule did
not entitle the directors to protection on the facts before it, the Van
Gorkom court focused on the process by which the board made its
decision, exhaustively detailing the board’s many procedural errors
and irregularities.52 Van Gorkom thus established a requirement of
what might be called procedural or process due care as a prerequisite
for invoking the business judgment rule.53 Put another way, directors
who fail “to act in an informed and deliberate manner” may not assert
the business judgment rule as a defense to care claims.54
In assessing Cinerama’s claim that Technicolor’s board had
violated its duty of care when it approved the merger with MAF, the
lower court expressed “grave doubts” that Technicolor’s board had
complied with its Van Gorkom obligations.55 Chancellor Allen
nevertheless found for the defendant directors on causation grounds.56
In Allen’s view, Cinerama could not prove damages. In the appraisal
proceeding, Allen had already determined the fair value of Technicolor
at the time of the merger to be $21.60 per share, while the
shareholders had been offered $23.57 On appeal, the Supreme Court of
Delaware reversed.58

50. 488 A.2d 858 (Del. 1985). For a more detailed treatment of Van Gorkom, see
BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 276-83. For a particularly trenchant contemporary critique of Van
Gorkom, which demonstrates the majority’s misuse of precedent, see William T. Quillen, Trans
Union, Business Judgment, and Neutral Principles, 10 DEL. J. CORP. L. 465 (1985).
51. Van Gorkom, 488 A.2d at 871-72.
52. Id. at 874-88; see BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 277 (suggesting that “one can plausibly
read Van Gorkom as providing a procedural roadmap by which corporate decisions, at least of
this magnitude, ought to be made”).
53. Cf. Brehm v. Eisner, 746 A.2d 244, 262-64 (Del. 2000) (rejecting plaintiff shareholder’s
contention that the business judgment rule includes an element of “substantive due care” and
holding that the business judgment rule requires only “process due care”).
54. Van Gorkom, 488 A.2d at 873.
55. Cinerama, Inc. v. Technicolor, Inc., 17 DEL. J. CORP. L. 551, 560 (Del. Ch. June 24,
1991), available at 1991 WL 111134, rev’d, 634 A.2d 345 (Del. 1993).
56. Id. at 581-84.
57. Cede & Co. v. Technicolor, Inc., 634 A.2d 345, 369 (Del. 1993).
58. Id. The causation issue is relatively unimportant for our purposes, but the Supreme
Court’s mistreatment of that issue is such an egregious example of its mangling of the business
judgment rule that one cannot resist treating the question briefly. Chancellor Allen’s conclusion
that Cinerama could not prevail in light of its failure to prove financial injury relied principally
on the classic case of Barnes v. Andrews, 298 F. 614 (S.D.N.Y. 1924). See Technicolor, 17 DEL. J.
CORP. L. at 582 (quoting from Barnes). On appeal, the Supreme Court found it to be “a ‘mystery’
how the [Chancery] court discovered the Barnes case and then based its decision on Barnes.”
Technicolor, 634 A.2d at 370 n.38. Perhaps Chancellor Allen found the Barnes case by glancing

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 93

In so doing, the Supreme Court morphed Allen’s “grave doubts”

into “presumed findings” of gross negligence by the board of
directors.59 Specifically, the court identified five process failures,
collectively amounting to a breach of the duty of care: (1) the board
had failed to make a “prudent search for alternatives” before
approving the agreement; (2) once the merger agreement was signed,
the board had no reasonable basis for believing that competing bids
might be made; (3) most directors had little information about the
merger and its terms before the meeting at which they approved it; (4)
MAF locked up the transaction through stock options granted by the
corporation and the two principal shareholders; and (5) the board was
not “adequately informed” before approving the agreement.60 In sum,
the court concluded, “Cinerama clearly met its burden of proof for the
purpose of rebutting the rule’s presumption by showing that the
defendant directors of Technicolor failed to inform themselves fully
concerning all material information reasonably available prior to
approving the merger agreement.”61
In so holding, the Supreme Court effectively rejected any
conception of the business judgment rule as a doctrine of judicial
abstention. The analysis began innocuously enough, with a fairly
standard statement of the board of directors’ authority to manage the
business and affairs of the corporation.62 The court immediately went

at virtually any major corporate law text. If so, such a glance would have demonstrated that
Barnes is routinely cited as the leading authority for the well-accepted proposition that “the
undoubted negligence of directors may not result in liability if the plaintiff cannot show that the
negligence proximately caused damages to the corporation.” ROBERT C. CLARK, CORPORATE LAW
126 (1986). The corporation law nutshell in print at the time Technicolor was decided likewise
cited Barnes as “the leading case” for this proposition. ROBERT W. HAMILTON, THE LAW OF
CORPORATIONS (3d ed. 1991). Even the Emanuel’s law outline cited Barnes for the proposition
that “the traditional tort notions of cause in fact and proximate cause apply in [the duty of care]
context.” STEVEN EMANUEL, CORPORATIONS 128 (1989) (emphasis omitted). The true mystery
thus is how the Delaware Supreme Court failed to discover Barnes’s well-established status in
corporate law jurisprudence. To be sure, the Barnes issue does not come up very often. But that
is because duty-of-care cases that reach the damages phase of litigation are so few and far
between as to amount to sports. See generally BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 287-90 (discussing
role of causation in duty of care litigation); MICHAEL P. DOOLEY, FUNDAMENTALS OF
CORPORATION LAW 249-54 (1995) (explaining that the Technicolor court’s analysis of the
causation issue, when coupled with its approach to calculating damages, improperly incorporates
the fairness analysis appropriate in duty of loyalty litigation into the care context).
59. Technicolor, 634 A.2d at 369; see DOOLEY, supra note 58, at 253 (criticizing the Supreme
Court for doing so).
60. Technicolor, 634 A.2d at 369.
61. Id. at 371.
62. The court stated:
Our starting point is the fundamental principle of Delaware law that the business and
affairs of a corporation are managed by or under the direction of its board of directors.
In exercising these powers, directors are charged with an unyielding fiduciary duty to

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94 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

off the rails, however, by describing the business judgment rule as

being intended “to preclude a court from imposing itself unreasonably
on the business and affairs of a corporation.”63 Contrast that
formulation to Van Gorkom’s statement that the rule is intended to
“protect and promote the full and free exercise of the managerial
power granted to Delaware directors.”64 The contrast between these
formulations is quite striking, with more than semantic implications.
Technicolor’s formulation suggests far less judicial deference to the
board that does that of Van Gorkom.
To be sure, the Technicolor court described the business
judgment rule as “a powerful presumption” against judicial
interference with board decision making.65 Immediately thereafter,
however, the court proceeded to eviscerate that presumption:
Thus, a shareholder plaintiff challenging a board decision has the burden at the outset
to rebut the rule’s presumption. To rebut the rule, a shareholder plaintiff assumes the
burden of providing evidence that directors, in reaching their challenged decision,
breached any one of the triads of their fiduciary duty—good faith, loyalty or due care. If
a shareholder plaintiff fails to meet this evidentiary burden, the business judgment rule
attaches to protect corporate officers and directors and the decisions they make, and our
courts will not second-guess these business judgments. If the rule is rebutted, the
burden shifts to the defendant directors, the proponents of the challenged transaction, to
prove to the trier of fact the “entire fairness” of the transaction to the shareholder
plaintiff.66

Notice how the court puts the cart before the horse. Directors
who violate their duty of care do not get the protections of the business
judgment rule; indeed, the rule is rebutted by a showing that the

protect the interests of the corporation and to act in the best interests of its
shareholders. The business judgment rule is an extension of these basic principles.
Id. at 360 (citations omitted).
63. Id. (emphasis added).
64. Smith v. Van Gorkom, 488 A.2d 858, 872 (Del. 1985).
65. Technicolor, Inc., 634 A.2d at 361.
66. Id. (citations omitted). Technicolor’s author, Justice Henry Horsey, asserts that Litwin
v. Allen, 25 N.Y.S.2d 667 (Sup. Ct. 1940), articulates a Technicolor-like formulation of the
business judgment rule under which, “for the rule of judicial deference to be invoked, directors of
a board must be found to have met not only their duty of loyalty but also their duty of care.”
Henry Ridgely Horsey, The Duty of Care Component of the Delaware Business Judgment Rule, 19
DEL. J. CORP. L. 971, 976 (1994). One problem with this analysis is that Litwin involved the
directors of a bank, who are typically held to a higher standard of accountability than directors of
other corporations. See Litwin, 25 N.Y.S.2d at 678. Another is that Litwin is a sport—a case that
falls well outside the norm. The court found the transaction in question to be “so improvident, so
risky, so unusual, and unnecessary as to be contrary to fundamental conceptions of prudent
banking practice.” Id. at 699. Although the court expressly declined to find a violation of the duty
of loyalty in Litwin, it seems fair to ask whether “we have reason to disbelieve the protestations
of good faith by directors who reach ‘irrational’ conclusions?” DOOLEY, supra note 58, at 263.
Indeed, on the facts of Litwin, there is good reason to suspect that the defendant and directors
did have a serious conflict of interest. CLARK, supra note 58, at 127-28.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 95

directors violated their fiduciary duty of “due care.”67 This is exactly

backwards. As we shall see, the abstention doctrine approach to the
rule prevents plaintiff from litigating that very issue.68 Put another
way, the whole point of the business judgment rule is to prevent
courts from even asking the question: did the board breach its duty of
care?

B. Shlensky v. Wrigley: Abstention in Action

Competing with the standard of liability conception is an

alternative view that treats the business judgment rule—albeit
implicitly—as a doctrine of abstention. One of the best examples is
also one of corporate law’s hoariest chestnuts, Shlensky v. Wrigley.69
Plaintiff Shlensky challenged Philip Wrigley’s famous refusal to
install lights in Chicago’s Wrigley Field baseball stadium.70 At that
time, Wrigley was the majority stockholder and president of the
Chicago National League Ball Club, Inc., a Delaware corporation that
owned the Chicago Cubs and operated Wrigley Field.71 Shlensky was a
minority shareholder in the company.72 Between 1961 and 1965, the
period about which Shlensky complained, the Cubs had consistently
operated at a loss.73 Shlensky’s complaint attributed the losses to the
Cubs’ poor home attendance.74 In turn, Shlensky alleged that the low
attendance was attributable to Wrigley’s refusal to install lights at
Wrigley Field and, concomitantly, to schedule games at night.75

67. In McMullin v. Beran, the Delaware Supreme Court likewise opined that:
The business judgment rule “operates as both a procedural guide for litigants and a
substantive rule of law.” Procedurally, the initial burden is on the shareholder
plaintiff to rebut the presumption of the business judgment rule. To meet that burden,
the shareholder plaintiff must effectively provide evidence that the defendant board of
directors, in reaching its challenged decision, breached any one of its “triad of
fiduciary duties, loyalty, good faith or due care.” Substantively, “if the shareholder
plaintiff fails to meet that evidentiary burden, the business judgment rule attaches”
and operates to protect the individual director defendants from personal liability for
making the board decision at issue.
765 A.2d 910, 916-17 (Del. 2000) (footnotes omitted); see also Emerald Partners v. Berlin, 726
A.2d 1215, 1221 (Del. 1999) (opining that “a breach of any one of the board of directors’ triad of
fiduciary duties, loyalty, good faith, or due care, sufficiently rebuts the business judgment rule
and permits a challenge to the board’s action under the entire fairness standard”).
68. See infra text accompanying note 90.
69. 237 N.E.2d 776 (Ill. App. Ct. 1968) (applying Delaware law).
70. Id. at 777-78.
71. Id. at 777 (noting that Wrigley owned approximately 80 percent of the stock).
72. Id.
73. Id.
74. Id. at 778.
75. Id. at 777-78 (summarizing Shlensky’s factual allegations).

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96 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

Shlensky alleged that Wrigley’s refusal to install lights was

motivated by two factors, neither of which related to the maximization
of shareholder wealth.76 First, he alleged, Wrigley refused to institute
night baseball because Wrigley believed that baseball was a daytime
sport.77 Second, he alleged that Wrigley feared night baseball might
have a negative impact on the neighborhood surrounding Wrigley
Field.78 Shlensky focused on Wrigley’s motivation because the other
defendant directors, he alleged, were so dominated by Wrigley that
they improperly acquiesced in his business decisions.79
Wrigley and the other defendant directors moved to dismiss
Shlensky’s complaint for failure to state a claim. In doing so, they
asserted a strong version of the abstention conception of the business
judgment rule, arguing “that the courts will not step in and interfere
with honest business judgment of the directors unless there is a
showing of fraud, illegality or conflict of interest.”80 In analyzing the
defendants’ argument, the court began by setting out “certain ground
rules” it extracted from prior precedents. First, “courts of equity will
not undertake to control the policy or business methods of a
corporation although it may be seen that a wiser policy might be
adopted and the business more successful if other methods were
pursued.”81 Second, the court observed that the case presented “a
conflict in view between the responsible managers of a corporation and
an overwhelming majority of its stockholders on the one hand and a
dissenting minority on the other” that touched on “matters of business
policy.”82 According to the Shlensky court: “The response which courts
make to such applications is that it is not their function to resolve for
corporations questions of policy and business management. The
directors are chosen to pass upon such questions and their judgment
unless shown to be tainted with fraud is accepted as final.”83
Finally, the court opined that “[i]n a purely business
corporation . . . the authority of the directors in the conduct of the

76. Id. at 778 (noting Shlensky’s allegation that Wrigley was “not interested in whether the
Cubs would benefit financially from” night baseball).
77. Id.
78. Id.
79. Id. (noting Shlensky’s allegation that that “the other defendant directors . . . have
acquiesced in the policy laid down by Wrigley and have permitted him to dominate the board of
directors in matters involving the installation of lights and scheduling of night games, even
though they knew he was not motivated by a good faith concern as to the best interests of
defendant corporation, but solely by his personal views . . . .”).
80. Id.
81. Id. (quoting Wheeler v. Pullman Iron and Steel Co., 32 N.E. 420, 423 (Ill. 1892)).
82. Id. at 779 (quoting Davis v. Louisville Gas & Elec. Co., 142 A. 654 (Del. Ch. 1928)).
83. Id. (quoting Davis v. Louisville Gas & Elec. Co., 142 A. 654 (Del. Ch. 1928)).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 97

business of the corporation must be regarded as absolute when they

act within the law, and the court is without authority to substitute its
judgment for that of the directors.”84
Each of these three “ground rules” supported the defendants’
claim that, absent colorable allegations of fraud, illegality, or conflict
of interest, the court must abstain from reviewing the directors’
decision.85 Because Shlensky’s complaint lacked any such
allegations,86 the court could have dismissed Shlensky’s claim without
addressing either the substantive merits of Wrigley’s refusal or his
motives. Curiously, however, the court in fact posited several
legitimate business reasons for Wrigley’s conduct. The court opined,
for example, that “the effect on the surrounding neighborhood might
well be considered by a director.”87 Likewise, the court hypothesized
that “the long run interest” of the firm “might demand” attention to
the impact of night baseball on the neighborhood.88 Note that neither
motivation was based on evidence presented by Wrigley; to the
contrary, both were invented by the court.
The key point is that the court did not require Wrigley and the
other defendants to show either that such considerations motivated
their decisions or that the decision otherwise redounded to the
corporation’s benefit. Indeed, the court emphasized that its
speculations in this regard were mere dicta:
By these thoughts we do not mean to say that we have decided that the decision of the
directors was a correct one. That is beyond our jurisdiction and ability. We are merely
saying that the decision is one properly before directors and the motives alleged in the
amended complaint showed no fraud, illegality or conflict of interest in their making of
that decision.89

At the risk of being excessively cute, we might emphasize that the

court did not even permit Shlensky to come to bat.90

84. Id. (quoting Toebelman v. Mo.-Kan. Pipe Line Co., 41 F. Supp. 334, 339 (D. Del. 1941)).
85. Note that mere allegations of director impropriety do not entitle plaintiff to discovery.
Stoner v. Walsh, 772 F. Supp. 790, 800 (S.D.N.Y. 1991). Accordingly, business judgment rule
claims should be determined as a motion to dismiss on the pleadings rather than at the
summary judgment stage.
86. Shlensky, 237 N.E.2d at 780 (holding that “unless the conduct of the defendants at least
borders on one of the elements, the courts should not interfere. The trial court in the instant case
acted properly in dismissing plaintiff’s amended complaint.”).
87. Id.
88. Id.
89. Id.
90. The court also found Shlensky’s claim defective for failure to allege damages. Id. This
discussion went mainly to causation. To be sure, the Cubs’ poor attendance probably contributed
to the firm’s losses, but was poor home attendance attributable to the lack of night baseball or to
the Cubs’ performance? During the relevant time period, the Cubs were pretty consistent losers.

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98 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

The doctrine thus articulated by Shlensky has a long pedigree

in American law. In 1888, for example, New York’s highest court
explained that “courts will not interfere unless the [directors’] powers
have been illegally or unconscientiously executed; or unless it be made
to appear that the acts were fraudulent or collusive, and destructive of
the rights of the stockholders. Mere errors of judgment are not
sufficient . . . .”91 In 1917, the Michigan Supreme Court famously
refused to interfere with Henry Ford’s decision to expand Ford Motor
Company’s manufacturing facilities, explaining that “judges are not
business experts.”92
More recent examples also can be cited, perhaps most notably
Kamin v. American Express Co.93 In Kamin, plaintiff challenged the
decision by American Express’ board of directors to declare a dividend
of property, specifically shares of stock American Express owned in a
second corporation.94 According to plaintiff, by deciding to distribute
the shares rather than selling them, the board lost a potential tax
savings of over $8 million.95 Even though it seems indisputable that
American Express’ board made the wrong decision, the court
dismissed for failure to state a claim.96 In doing so, the court set out
an even stronger statement of the abstention conception of the
business judgment rule than had the Shlensky court: “[t]he directors’
room rather than the courtroom is the appropriate forum for
thrashing out purely business questions which will have an impact of
on profits, market prices, competitive situations, or tax advantages.”97
The claim is not that courts rubberstamp the board’s decision.
Conceptualizing the business judgment rule as a principle of judicial
abstention means that the rule is not a standard of liability; it does

In any event, this portion of the court’s opinion is dicta. Once the court decided the business
judgment rule was applicable, the inquiry could have (and should have) ended.
91. Leslie v. Lorillard, 18 N.E. 363, 365 (N.Y. 1888).
92. Dodge v. Ford Motor Co., 170 N.W. 668, 684 (Mich. 1919).
93. 383 N.Y.S.2d 807 (Sup. Ct. 1976), aff’d, 387 N.Y.S.2d 993 (App. Div. 1976).
94. Id. at 809-10.
95. Id.
96. Id. at 815; cf. Ellen Taylor, New and Unjustified Restrictions on Delaware Directors’
Authority, 21 DEL. J. CORP. L. 837, 877 (1996) (citing Kamin, among other precedents, for the
proposition that “directors are not liable for simply making mistakes, even if those mistakes
result in substantial costs to the corporation and its shareholders”).
97. Kamin, 383 N.Y.S.2d at 810-11. Hence, absent “fraud, dishonesty, or nonfeasance,”
courts will not substitute their judgment for that of the directors. Id. at 811; see also Norlin Corp.
v. Rooney, Pace Inc., 744 F.2d 255, 264 (2d Cir. 1984) (holding that New York’s business
judgment rule “bars judicial inquiry into actions of corporate directors taken in good faith and in
the exercise of honest judgment in the lawful and legitimate furtherance of corporate purposes”);
Gearhart Indus., Inc. v. Smith Int’l, Inc., 741 F.2d 707 (5th Cir. 1984) (holding that under Texas
law only fraud, self dealing, or ultra vires conduct rebuts the presumption of good faith provided
by the business judgment rule).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 99

not preclude the rule from having some aspects of a standard of

review. As the quoted passages from both Shlensky and Kamin make
clear, the business judgment rule does not prevent judicial review of
director conduct involving fraud or self-dealing. In addition, before the
rule comes into play, various prerequisites must be satisfied. It is well
established, for example, that directors may only invoke the business
judgment rule when they have made a conscious decision.98 Hence, the
business judgment rule does not prevent judicial review of a board’s
failure to exercise proper oversight of the corporation’s management.99
The good faith and disinterested independence of the directors are also
often identified as conditions on which the rule is predicated.100
Finally, some courts and commentators contend that the business
judgment rule does not protect an irrational decision.101 Instead, what
the abstention conception contemplates is that, if the requisite
preconditions are satisfied, there is no remaining scope for judicial
review of the substantive merits of the board’s decision.102
The Delaware Supreme Court expressed this point well in
Brehm v. Eisner, in which the court explicitly rejected, as “foreign to
the business judgment rule,” the plaintiffs’ argument that the rule
could be rebutted by a showing that the directors failed to exercise
“substantive due care”:103

98. See, e.g., Aronson v. Lewis, 473 A.2d 805, 813 (Del. 1984) (stating that the business
judgment rule is inapplicable “where directors have either abdicated their functions, or absent a
conscious decision, failed to act”).
99. See, e.g., In re Caremark Int’l, Inc. Derivative Litig., 698 A.2d 959 (Del. Ch. 1996)
(reviewing settlement of derivative litigation in which lack of oversight was alleged). For more
detailed discussion of oversight cases, see BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 270, 291-96.
100. See, e.g., Auerbach v. Bennett, 393 N.E.2d 994 (N.Y. 1979) (so long as directors were
disinterested and acted in good faith, the business judgment rule required court to defer to board
committee’s recommendation to dismiss a shareholder derivative suit). See generally
BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 270-71 (discussing precondition of disinterested and independent
decision makers).
101. See, e.g., Brehm v. Eisner, 746 A.2d 244, 264 (Del. 2000) (stating that “[i]rrationality is
the outer limit of the business judgment rule.”); cf. AMERICAN LAW INSTITUTE, PRINCIPLES OF
CORPORATE GOVERNANCE: ANALYSIS AND RECOMMENDATIONS § 4.01(c)(3) (1994) [hereinafter ALI
PRINCIPLES] (asserting that director must rationally believe action to be in corporation’s best
interest). Professor Dooley has grappled at some length with the problems inherent in positing
rationality as a predicate for invoking the business judgment rule, concluding that a rationality
requirement should not have teeth. See Dooley, supra note 9, at 478-81 (criticizing use of term
rational as a precondition for the business judgment rule’s invocation); see also infra note 105
(discussing this issue in more detail). See generally BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 274-75 (same).
102. BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 246 (arguing that under the abstention version of the rule
the inquiry ends when the requisite preconditions are satisfied and that “[t]here will be no
judicial review of the substantive merits of the board’s decision—whether those merits are
measured in terms of fairness, reasonableness, wisdom, care, or what have you”).
103. 746 A.2d 244, 264 (Del. 2000).

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100 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

Courts do not measure, weigh or quantify directors’ judgments. We do not even decide if
they are reasonable in this context. Due care in the decisionmaking context is process
due care only. . . .

Thus, directors’ decisions will be respected by courts unless the directors are interested
or lack independence relative to the decision, do not act in good faith, act in a manner
that cannot be attributed to a rational business purpose or reach their decision by a
grossly negligent process that includes the failure to consider all material facts
reasonably available.104

Perhaps Brehm was not as pure an abstention decision as was

Shlensky, but note that none of the preconditions set forth by Brehm
contemplate substantive review of the merits of the board’s decision.
Even the reference to a rational business purpose requires only the
possibility that the decision was actuated by a legitimate business
reason, not that directors must prove the existence of such a reason.105
Absent self dealing or other conflicted interests, or truly egregious
process failures, the court will abstain.

C. Why It Matters Doctrinally

When we compare Technicolor and Shlensky, it becomes

apparent that the former gets things exactly backwards. One does not
rebut the business judgment rule by showing a breach of the duty of
care; if the business judgment rule applies, the court will not review
the directors’ conduct to see if that duty was violated. This criticism is
not merely semantic; it goes to the core of the business judgment rule.

104. Id. at 264 & n.66.

105. See Dooley, supra note 9, at 478-79 n.58 (arguing that the term “rational is to be
equated with conceivable or imaginable and means only that the court will not even look at the
board’s judgment if there is any possibility that it was actuated by a legitimate business reason.
It clearly does not mean, and cannot legitimately be cited for the proposition, that individual
directors must have, and be prepared to put forth, proof of rational reasons for their decisions.”).
Put another way, the reference to a “rational business purpose” does not contemplate substantive
review of the decision’s merits. As former Delaware Chancellor Allen explained, “such limited
substantive review as the rule contemplates (i.e., is the judgment under review ‘egregious’ or
‘irrational’ or ‘so beyond reason,’ etc.) really is a way of inferring bad faith.” In re RJR Nabisco,
Inc. Shareholders Litig., 1989 WL 7036, at *13 n.13 (Del. Ch. Jan. 31, 1989). Hence, a purported
inquiry into the rationality of a decision is better viewed as a proxy for an inquiry into whether
the decision was tainted by self-interest. In Parnes v. Bally Entertainment Corp., for example,
the Delaware Supreme Court adopted a formulation similar to Chancellor Allen’s: “The
presumptive validity of a business judgment is rebutted in those rare cases where the decision
under attack is ‘so far beyond the bounds of reasonable judgment that it seems essentially
inexplicable on any ground other than bad faith.’” 722 A.2d 1243, 1246 (Del. 1999) (quoting In re
J. P. Stevens & Co., 542 A.2d 770, 780-81 (Del. Ch. 1988)). In that case, Bally’s CEO allegedly
demanded bribes from prospective takeover bidders and, moreover, allegedly received such a
bribe from the successful bidder. Id. In holding that the plaintiff shareholder had stated a cause
of action, the court observed that “it is inexplicable that independent directors, acting in good
faith, could approve the deal” when it was so tainted. Id.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 101

As articulated by Shlensky and its ilk, the business judgment rule’s

function is to preclude courts from deciding whether the directors
violated their duty of care. Yet, it is that very task to which
Technicolor directs the trial court. The court’s statement of the
doctrine thus threatens to render the business judgment rule
nugatory, which raises several important concerns.
First, Technicolor trivializes the business judgment rule.
Under Technicolor, the business judgment rule’s primary function is
the procedural task of assigning burdens of proof. In that limited
guise, moreover, the rule merely assigns to the plaintiff the burden of
establishing a prima facie case—the same burden the plaintiff bears
in all civil litigation.106 If the plaintiff fails to carry that burden, the
business judgment rule requires the court to dismiss the lawsuit
without inquiry into the merits of the decision. But so what? Under
this conception, the business judgment rule is nothing more than a
restatement of the basic principle that the defendant is entitled to
summary judgment whenever the plaintiff fails to state a prima facie
case.
Second, the Technicolor approach has significant settlement
implications. Unlike poor old Shlensky, who was not even allowed up
to bat, litigants suing under Technicolor’s cart-before-the-horse
formulation logically should be allowed to present evidence that the
board failed to exercise due care.107 This distinction has important
procedural consequences. In Shlensky, plaintiff could not survive a
motion to dismiss, while plaintiff in McMullin was able to do so.108
Does that matter? Of course. As the probability increases that a cause
of action will survive a motion to dismiss, both the probability that
more such actions will be brought and the settlement value of such
actions increase.

106. Granted, Technicolor does not mandate liability in the event that plaintiff carries its
burden of showing a breach of fiduciary duty. Instead, per Technicolor, that showing merely
shifts the burden to the defendant to show the entire fairness of the challenged transaction. Cede
& Co. v. Technicolor, Inc., 634 A.2d 345, 361 (Del. 1993). Yet, the court’s importation of the entire
fairness standard into duty of care litigation is itself a highly problematic feature of the opinion.
See DOOLEY, supra note 58, at 249-54 (criticizing the court for doing so). For a careful
demonstration that Technicolor’s importation of entire fairness into the duty of care was a
doctrinal novelty, see Lyman Johnson, Rethinking Judicial Review of Director Care, 24 DEL. J.
CORP. L. 787, 799-801 (1999). In my view, Johnson correctly concludes there is “no clear and
reasoned prior authority” supporting Technicolor in this respect. Id. at 801.
107. But see McMullin v. Beran, 765 A.2d 910, 918 (Del. 2000) (holding that the directors are
entitled to the protection of the business judgment rule unless the “effectively pled factual
allegations” in the plaintiff’s complaint “successfully rebut the procedural presumption” inherent
in the rule).
108. Compare Shlensky v. Wrigley, 237 N.E.2d 776 (Ill. App. Ct. 1968), with McMullin, 765
A.2d at 915.

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102 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

Finally, and most disturbingly, by opening the courthouse door

to care questions at the outset of the litigation, Technicolor appeared
to broaden the scope of judicial review of board decision making to
reach not just the process by which the decision was made but also the
substance of the directors’ decision. Technicolor can be reconciled with
the mainstream of business judgment rule analysis only by
interpreting the duty of “due care” as being limited to the adequacy of
the decision-making process. At several points in the opinion, the
court in fact so characterized that duty.109 Yet, this is a cramped and
narrow definition of the duty of due care, which is more usually
deemed to require some degree of substantive prudence.110 Asking
whether a decision was made with reasonable care implicates not only
the process by which the decision was reached but also whether the
decision itself was the one the hypothetical reasonable person would
have made.

III. FIRST PRINCIPLES: DIRECTOR PRIMACY AND THE TENSION

BETWEEN AUTHORITY AND ACCOUNTABILITY

Shlensky and Technicolor offer radically different conceptions

of the business judgment rule. Deciding between these competing
conceptions requires us to go back to first principles. My thesis is that
the corporation’s governance system is properly characterized as a
regime of director primacy.111 In this model, the corporation is
conceived as a vehicle by which the board of directors hires various
factors of production. Consequently, directors are not mere agents of
the shareholders. To the contrary, “the directors in the performance of
their duty possess [the corporation’s property], and act in every way as
if they owned it.”112 It thus makes no sense to speak of the directors’
powers as being delegated from the shareholders. Instead, as an old
New York decision put it, the board’s powers are “original and
undelegated.”113 The directors thus are Platonic guardians of a sui

109. See, e.g., Cede & Co. v. Technicolor, Inc., 634 A.2d 345, 367 (Del. 1993) (holding that the
duty of care requires that directors “act on an informed basis”).
110. See supra text accompanying note 32.
111. This thesis was more fully developed in an earlier article. See Bainbridge, Director
Primacy, supra note 11. For a critique of my director primacy model, see Wayne O. Hanewicz,
Director Primacy and Omnicare, available at http://www.law.ufl.edu/faculty/pdf/9-4-03hanew.pdf
(last visited Jan. 7, 2004). In my view, Professor Hanewicz provides a useful corrective in the
following sense: The tension between authority and accountability that lies at the heart of
corporate law is resolved on a case-by-case basis through a judicial (or, in some cases, legislative)
determination as to whether the “locus of authority” should be shifted from the board to courts or
shareholders and, if so, to what extent the board’s authority should be circumscribed.
112. Manson v. Curtis, 119 N.E. 559, 562 (N.Y. 1918).
113. Id.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 103

generis entity in which shareholders are but one of many contracting

inputs.114
Yet, while directors are vested with wide powers to exercise
their discretion by fiat, those powers are limited by their contractual
obligations—both explicit and implied in law—to the factors of
production with whom they contract.115 In American business law, one
of these implied terms is the directors’ obligation to maximize the
wealth of its shareholders.116 A tension between authority and
accountability thus arises. On the one hand, as developed below, the
modern public corporation simply could not exist if directors lacked
authority to exercise fiat.117 On the other hand, possession of that
power by directors enables them to divert corporate profits from
shareholders to themselves. A complete theory of the firm thus requires
that the law balance the virtues of discretion against the need to require
that discretion be used responsibly.118
The difficulty is that authority and accountability are
ultimately antithetical: one cannot have more of one without also having
less of the other.119 As Nobel laureate economist Kenneth Arrow
explained, the power to hold to account is ultimately the power to
decide.120 Consequently, efforts to hold the board accountable

114. See PLATO, THE REPUBLIC 289-90 (Benjamin Jowett trans., 1991) (describing the
education of philosopher-kings who rule “for the public good, not as though they were performing
some heroic action, but simply as a matter of duty”). In Blasius Industries, Inc. v. Atlas Corp.,
564 A.2d 651, 663 (Del. Ch. 1988), former Delaware Chancellor William Allen opined: “The
theory of our corporation law confers power upon directors as the agents of the shareholders; it
does not create Platonic masters.” Director primacy squarely rejects this claim. Bainbridge,
Director Primacy, supra note 11, at 550-51.
115. Cf. FRANK H. EASTERBROOK & DANIEL R. FISCHEL, THE ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF
CORPORATE LAW 90-93 (1991) (explaining that corporate law fiduciary duties should be
understood as gap-fillers designed to plug holes in the inherently incomplete contract between
the corporation and shareholders).
116. The classic statement is the Michigan Supreme Court’s famous remark that a
“corporation is organized and carried on primarily for the profit of the stockholders.” Dodge v.
Ford Motor Co., 170 N.W. 668, 684 (Mich. 1919). For a defense of the shareholder wealth
maximization norm against critics who argue it is both normatively and descriptively
inadequate, see Bainbridge, Director Primacy, supra note 11, at 574-92.
117. To be sure, some scholars have argued that with the corporation there exists “no power
of fiat, no authority, no disciplinary action any different in the slightest degree from ordinary
market contracting between any two people.” Armen A. Alchian & Harold Demsetz, Production,
Information Costs, and Economic Organization, 62 AM. ECON. REV. 777, 777 (1972); see also G.
Mitu Gulati et al., Connected Contracts, 47 UCLA L. REV. 887, 947 (2000) (arguing that within a
corporation “there is no primacy, no core, no hierarchy, no prominent participant, no firm, no
fiduciary duty,” but only a set of contracts among the enterprise’s factors of production). I have
explained elsewhere that this argument is erroneous. See Bainbridge, supra note 17, at 16-25
(discussing the role of fiat in corporate governance).
118. Dooley, supra note 9, at 464-71.
119. Id. at 470.
120. KENNETH J. ARROW, THE LIMITS OF ORGANIZATION 78 (1974).

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104 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

necessarily shift some of the board’s decision-making authority to

shareholders or judges. As we shall see in the next Part, the business
judgment rule follows inexorably from this foundational principle. In
this Part, we set the stage by developing the tension between
authority and accountability in more detail.

A. The Centrality of Fiat: Authority-Based Governance

It is conventional in the law and economics literature to

describe the corporation as a nexus of contracts between factors of
production.121 Yet, public corporations function neither by the price
mechanism of a market nor by participatory democracy. Instead, they
are bureaucratic hierarchies in which decisions are made on a more-or-
less authoritarian basis.122 Why? What survival advantages does a large
corporation gain by being structured as a bureaucratic hierarchy? As I
have explained elsewhere in more detail,123 an answer is suggested by
Ronald Coase’s fundamental insight that corporate employees move
from one department to another not in response to a change in relative
prices, but because they are directed to do so.124 Put another way, while
markets allocate resources via the price mechanism, corporations do so
via fiat—i.e., authoritative direction.125 Accordingly, Coase explained,
economic activity typically will occur within a firm when bargaining
across a market is more costly than command-and-control.
At the top of the corporate hierarchy sits the board of directors.
As the Delaware General Corporation Law puts it, the corporation’s
business and affairs “shall be managed by or under the direction of a

121. See, e.g., Frank H. Easterbrook & Daniel R. Fischel, The Corporate Contract, 89 COLUM. L.
REV. 1416, 1426-28 (1989); Thomas S. Ulen, The Coasean Firm in Law and Economics, 18 J. CORP.
L. 301, 318-28 (1993). As no less an authority than former Delaware Chancellor William Allen has
acknowledged, contractarianism is now the “dominant legal academic view.” William T. Allen,
Contracts and Communities in Corporation Law, 50 WASH. & LEE L. REV. 1395, 1400 (1993). For an
argument that the corporation is better understood not as being a nexus but as having a nexus (i.e.,
the board of directors), see Bainbridge, supra note 17, at 16-24.
122. See ALFRED D. CHANDLER, JR., THE VISIBLE HAND: THE MANAGERIAL REVOLUTION IN
AMERICAN BUSINESS 8 (1977) (observing that corporate hierarchies have proven to possess “a
permanence beyond that of any individual or group of individuals who worked in them”).
123. Bainbridge, supra note 17, at 18-20.
124. R.H. COASE, THE FIRM, THE MARKET, AND THE LAW 35 (1988).
125. Drawing a distinction between across-market transactions and intra-firm transactions
serves a useful pedagogic purpose, but is not a wholly accurate description of the real world, in
which there is a wide array of choices falling between purely contractual relationships and the
classical economic firm. See William A. Klein, The Modern Business Organization: Bargaining
Under Constraints, 91 YALE L.J. 1521, 1523 (1982).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 105

board of directors.”126 Pursuant to this grant of authority, the vast

majority of corporate decisions are made by the board of directors or
by managers acting under delegated authority.127 In practice, of
course, many boards of directors are captured by the firm’s senior
management and simply rubberstamp management decisions. This
problem of management-captured boards is beyond the scope of this
article, but is one I have addressed elsewhere.128 As I explained there,
modern boards tend to be considerably more independent of
management than was the case several decades ago.129 In addition, if
push comes to shove, the board holds the legal trump card in its power
to hire and fire management.130
In any event, the key point is that a corporation’s
constituencies—its human factors of production—have essentially no
voice in corporate decision making. The chief distinguishing
characteristic of the modern public corporation is the separation of
ownership and control.131 Shareholders, who are said to “own” the
firm,132 have virtually no power to control either its day-to-day
operation or its long-term policies. Shareholders essentially have no
power to initiate corporate action, for example, and are entitled to
approve or disapprove only a very few board actions.133 The statutory

126. DEL. CODE. ANN. tit. 8, § 141(a) (2001). For a discussion of why the corporate hierarchy
is topped by a committee rather than a single autocrat, see Stephen M. Bainbridge, Why a
Board? Group Decisionmaking in Corporate Governance, 55 VAND. L. REV. 1 (2002).
127. Of course, operational decisions are normally delegated by the board to subordinate
employees. The board, however, retains the power to hire and fire firm employees and to define
the limits of their authority. Moreover, certain extraordinary acts may not be delegated, but are
instead reserved for the board’s exclusive determination. See Lee v. Jenkins Bros., 268 F.2d 357,
370 (2d Cir. 1959); Lucey v. Hero Int’l Corp., 281 N.E.2d 266, 269 (Mass. 1972). Because of the
delegation phenomenon, however, the term “decision” is used here as a semantic shorthand for a
process that “does not consist of taking affirmative action on individual matters” but rather of “a
continuing flow of supervisory process, punctuated only occasionally by a discrete transactional
decision.” Bayless Manning, The Business Judgment Rule and the Director’s Duty of Attention:
Time for Reality, 39 BUS. LAW. 1477, 1494 (1984).
128. See BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 205-06.
129. Id. at 206.
130. Id.
131. ADOLF A. BERLE & GARDINER C. MEANS, THE MODERN CORPORATION AND PRIVATE
PROPERTY 84-89 (1932).
132. The corporation in fact is not a thing capable of being owned. Instead, per the most
widely accepted theory of the corporation, the nexus of contracts model, the firm is a legal fiction
representing a complex set of contractual relationships. Because shareholders are simply one of
the inputs bound together by this web of voluntary agreements, ownership is not a meaningful
concept under this model. Eugene F. Fama, Agency Problems and the Theory of the Firm, 88 J.
POL. ECON. 288, 290 (1980).
133. Under the Delaware Code, shareholder voting rights are essentially limited to the
election of directors and approval of charter or by-law amendments, mergers, sales of
substantially all of the corporation’s assets, and voluntary dissolution. As a formal matter, only
electing directors and amending the by-laws do not require board approval before shareholder

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106 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

decision-making model thus is one in which the board acts and

shareholders, at most, react.
The decision-making processes of modern public corporations
thus bear a striking resemblance to the paradigm Kenneth Arrow
called “authority.” Arrow distinguishes authority from consensus,
defining the latter as “any reasonable and acceptable means of
aggregating [the] individual interests” of the organization’s
constituents.134 American partnership law is a good example of a
consensus-based decision-making structure.135 In contrast, Arrow
defines authority-based governance by the existence of a central
agency to which all relevant information is transmitted and which is
empowered to make decisions that are binding on the whole.136
According to Arrow, consensus-based governance systems work
best when each decision maker has the same information and
comparable interests.137 In contrast, authority-based decision-making
structures tend to arise where there are information asymmetries
among potential decision makers and the decision makers have
different interests.138 With these criteria being specified, it should be
self-evident that efficient corporate governance requires an authority-
based decision-making structure.139 At the very least, the obvious
mechanical difficulties of achieving consensus amongst thousands of
decision makers impede shareholders from taking an active role. Yet,
even if those collective action problems could be overcome, active
shareholder participation in corporate decision making would still be
precluded by the intractable information asymmetries between the
firm and its shareholders (and those among shareholders themselves),
as well as by the shareholders’ widely divergent interests.140

action is possible. DEL. CODE ANN. tit. 8, §§ 109, 211 (2001). In practice, of course, even the
election of directors (absent a proxy contest) is predetermined by the existing board nominating
the next year’s board. See generally Bayless Manning, Book Review, 67 YALE L.J. 1477, 1485-89
(1958) (describing incumbent control of the proxy voting machinery).
134. ARROW, supra note 120, at 69.
135. Dooley, supra note 9, at 466-67.
136. ARROW, supra note 120, at 68.
137. Id. at 69.
138. Id. at 70.
139. In case it is not, see Bainbridge, Director Primacy, supra note 11, at 554-59; Bainbridge,
supra note 17, at 20-24.
140. Bainbridge, supra note 17, at 20-22.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 107

B. The Trade-Off Between Authority and Accountability

Although authority is essential for organizational efficiency, it

must be exercised responsibly.141 Because human cognitive powers are
limited and subject to being overwhelmed by information flows,
unaccountable authority is likely to make unnecessary errors.142 More
pertinent for our purposes, unaccountable authority may be exercised
opportunistically. The central decision maker may divert
organizational resources to its own benefit rather than the good of the
organization and its constituents.
In the corporate setting, the potential for opportunism arises
because of the very separation of ownership and control that makes
the corporate form feasible.143 When the directors hire equity capital
from shareholders, the directors undertake a contractual obligation to
maximize the value of the shareholders’ residual claim on the
corporation’s assets.144 Like most of corporate law, this obligation is
implied in law, rather than expressed in formal contracts, of course,
but as I have argued elsewhere in more detail, there seems little doubt
that shareholder wealth maximization is the majoritarian default that
emerges when one brings the hypothetical bargain methodology to
bear on the question.145 Because shareholders exercise so little direct
control over the board of directors, however, shareholders have

141. ARROW, supra note 120, at 73.

142. Id. at 74-75.
143. See BERLE & MEANS, supra note 131, at 6 (“The separation of ownership from control
produces a condition where the interests of owner and of ultimate manager may, and often do,
diverge and where many of the checks which formerly operated to limit the use of power
disappear.”).
144. See supra note 116 and accompanying text (discussing the shareholder wealth
maximization norm).
145. See supra note 116. See generally Bainbridge, Director Primacy, supra note 11, at 577-
84 (explaining the hypothetical bargain methodology used in contractarian law and economics
and applying it to the corporate context). As I have summarized the methodology elsewhere:
If corporate law consists mainly of default rules, corporate statutes and decisions can
be viewed as a standard form contract voluntarily adopted—perhaps with
modifications—by the corporation’s various constituencies. The point of a standard
form contract, of course, is to reduce bargaining costs. Parties for whom the default
rules are a good fit can take the default rules off the rack, without having to bargain
over them. Parties for whom the default rules are inappropriate are free to bargain
out of the default rules.
In selecting the appropriate default rule, we therefore perform a thought experiment:
“If the parties could costlessly bargain over the question, which rule would they
adopt?” To answer that question we draw on both experience and economic analysis.
Once we figure out a plausible majoritarian default, we adopt that hypothetical
bargain as the corporate law default rule. Doing so reduces transaction costs and
therefore makes firms more efficient.
BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 420. See generally id. at 29-31 (providing a more extensive
explanation).

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108 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

minimal ability to prevent directors from appropriating corporate

assets that should have gone into the residue against which the
shareholders have their claim.
Director opportunism is not limited to instances of intentional
self-dealing. Instead, it can extend to such other forms of “shirking” as
negligence, oversight, incapacity, and even honest mistakes.146 But while
the business judgment rule does not protect directors who have engaged
in self-dealing,147 it does protect those who make errors of judgment,
even when those errors rise to the level of negligence.148
Why does the business judgment rule create this obstacle to
director accountability? If tort liability for negligence encourages
people to be careful,149 after all, judicial review of board decisions
presumably would likewise encourage directors to be careful. That we
do not expose director decisions to judicial scrutiny absent self-dealing
suggests that the law finds a value in the board’s authority that might
be lost if director decisions were routinely subject to review.
The source of that value is found in Arrow’s observation that
the power to hold to account is ultimately the power to decide.150
Arrow explains:
[Accountability mechanisms] must be capable of correcting errors but should not be such
as to destroy the genuine values of authority. Clearly, a sufficiently strict and
continuous organ of [accountability] can easily amount to a denial of authority. If every
decision of A is to be reviewed by B, then all we have really is a shift in the locus of
authority from A to B and hence no solution to the original problem.151

As a result, the board cannot be made more accountable without

shifting some of its decision-making authority to shareholders or
judges.
Does this analysis mean that the board should have unfettered
authority? No. In some cases, accountability concerns become so
pronounced that they trump the general need for deference to the

146. Dooley, supra note 9, at 465.

147. See Bayer v. Beran, 49 N.Y.S.2d 2, 6 (Sup. Ct. 1944) (holding that “[t]he ‘business
judgment rule,’ however, yields to the rule of undivided loyalty. This great rule of law is designed
‘to avoid the possibility of fraud and to avoid the temptation of self-interest.’ ” (citations
omitted)).
148. See supra note 34 and accompanying text.
149. The rhetorical power of the analogy to tort liability fails, of course, if the threat of tort
liability does not in fact encourage optimal care taking. Given cognitive biases in how actors
assess the risk of liability and juries determine liability, plus the availability of both first- and
third-person insurance, the assumption that tort liability encourages due care seems quite
heroic. See ROBERT COOTER & THOMAS ULEN, LAW AND ECONOMICS 296-98 (2d ed. 1997)
(discussing implications of cognitive biases and insurance for efficiency of tort system and
tentatively concluding that tort system nevertheless may be efficient).
150. ARROW, supra note 120, at 78.
151. Id.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 109

board’s authority. Once again, I turn to Arrow: “To maintain the value
of authority, it would appear that [accountability] must be
intermittent. This could be periodic; it could take the form of
‘management by exception,’ in which authority and its decisions are
reviewed only when performance is sufficiently degraded from
expectations . . . .”152
Establishing the proper mix of deference and accountability
thus emerges as the central problem in applying the business
judgment rule to particular situations. Given the significant virtues of
discretion, however, one must not lightly interfere with management or
the board’s decision-making authority in the name of accountability.
Preservation of managerial discretion should always be the null
hypothesis.

IV. JUSTIFYING ABSTENTION: WHY SHLENSKY GOT IT RIGHT AND

TECHNICOLOR DIDN’T

In the director primacy model, as sketched out in the prior Part,

the business judgment rule is justified precisely because judicial
review threatens the board’s authority.153 This understanding of the
rule’s role is consistent with a passage from the Delaware Supreme
Court’s famed Van Gorkom decision that has received less attention
than it deserves:
Under Delaware law, the business judgment rule is the offspring of the fundamental
principle, codified in [Delaware General Corporation Law] § 141(a), that the business
and affairs of a Delaware corporation are managed by or under its board of directors. . . .
The business judgment rule exists to protect and promote the full and free exercise of
the managerial power granted to Delaware directors.154

In other words, the rule ensures that the null hypothesis is deference
to the board’s authority as the corporation’s central and final decision
maker.
Critics of the foregoing analysis likely would concede that
judicial review shifts some power to decide to judges, but contend that
that observation is normatively insufficient. To be sure, they might
posit, centralized decision making is an essential feature of the
corporation. Judicial review could serve as a redundant control on
board decision making, however, without displacing the board as the
primary decision maker.

152. Id.
153. See Dooley, supra note 9, at 469-76 (analyzing the business judgment rule in an Arrow-
based model).
154. Smith v. Van Gorkom, 488 A.2d 858, 872 (Del. 1985).

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110 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

An analogy to engineering concepts may be useful. If a

mechanical system is likely to fail, and its failure is likely to entail
high costs, basic engineering theory calls for redundant controls to
prevent failure. It would be naive to assume that markets fully
constrain director behavior.155 Why then is judicial review not an
appropriate redundant control? If we assume that corporate law is
generally efficient, the losses tolerated by judicial abstention must be
outweighed by benefits elsewhere in the system. In this Part, I
identify the likely sources of those benefits.

A. Encouraging Risk Taking

In the American Law Institute’s Principles of Corporate

Governance, a quasi-Restatement of corporate law,156 the drafters
justify the business judgment rule as being necessary to protect
“directors and officers from the risks inherent in hindsight reviews of
their business decisions” and to avoid “the risk of stifling innovation
and venturesome business activity.”157 This claim cannot be a
complete explanation of the business judgment rule. Duty of care
litigation, after all, probably does far less to stifle innovation and
business risk taking than does product liability and securities fraud
litigation, but no equivalent of the business judgment rule exists in
the latter contexts.158 Even so, however, encouraging optimal risk
taking is part of the story.
As the firm’s residual claimants, shareholders do not get a
return on their investment until all other claims on the corporation

155. Professor Ronald Gilson argues that where markets constrain management’s behavior
one would not expect courts “to provide redundant controls.” Ronald J. Gilson, A Structural
Approach to Corporations: The Case Against Defensive Tactics in Tender Offers, 33 STAN. L. REV.
819, 839 (1981). The business judgment rule thus “operates to bar courts from providing
additional, and unnecessary, constraints on management discretion through judicial review of
operating decisions.” Id.
156. See William J. Carney, The ALI’s Corporate Governance Project: The Death of Property
Rights?, 61 GEO. WASH. L. REV. 898, 898 (1993) (opining that “[t]he final approval of the
American Law Institute’s (ALI) Principles of Corporate Governance: Analysis and
Recommendations . . . represents the culmination of the most controversial event in the history of
American corporate law.”).
157. ALI PRINCIPLES, supra note 101, § 4.01 cmt. d. Professor Dooley persuasively argues
that the ALI Principles’ version of the business judgment rule on grounds is flawed, inter alia,
because it in fact encourages intrusive substantive review of business decisions. Dooley, supra
note 9, at 471-86.
158. The latter types of litigation may be desirable to force corporations to internalize certain
costs imposed on outsiders by negative externalities associated with corporate conduct, of course,
while we shall see that shareholders would not wish to force directors to internalize all costs
borne by shareholders. See BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 257-58 (developing this externalities
argument in comparing these shareholder litigation to other causes of action).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 111

have been satisfied.159 All else equal, shareholders therefore prefer

high return projects.160 Because risk and return are directly
proportional, however, implementing that preference necessarily
entails choosing risky projects.161
Even though conventional finance theory assumes
shareholders are risk averse,162 rational shareholders still will have a
high tolerance for risky corporate projects. First, the basic corporate
law principle of limited liability substantially insulates shareholders
from the downside risks of corporate activity.163 The limited liability
principle, of course, holds that shareholders of a corporation may not
be held personally liable for debts incurred or torts committed by the
firm.164 Because shareholders thus do not put their personal assets at
jeopardy, other than the amount initially invested, they effectively
externalize some portion of the business’ total risk exposure to
creditors.165

159. DOOLEY, supra note 58, at 33.

160. See WILLIAM A. KLEIN & JOHN C. COFFEE, JR., BUSINESS ORGANIZATION AND FINANCE
258-60 (8th ed. 2002) (comparing creditor and shareholder risk preferences).
161. See id. at 259 (explaining why “common shareholders might be better off with the
riskier investment”).
162. Id. at 236.
163. Indeed, it is this very insulation that motivates most critics of corporate limited
liability. See, e.g., Ronald M. Green, Shareholders as Stakeholders: Changing Metaphors of
Corporate Governance, 50 WASH. & LEE L. REV. 1409, 1414-15 (1993) (arguing that “[t]hanks to
limited liability, shareholders can fund the activities of large corporations, receive dividends and
capital gains on their investments, and yet remain immune to some of the costs of misconduct or
misjudgment by their corporate agents.”); Henry Hansmann & Reinier Kraakman, Toward
Unlimited Shareholder Liability for Corporate Torts, 100 YALE L.J. 1879, 1882 (1991) (arguing
that limited liability, inter alia, creates an “incentive . . . for the shareholder to direct the
corporation to spend too little on precautions to avoid accidents”). For a defense of limited
liability against such critiques, see BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 132-51.
164. See, e.g., MODEL BUS. CORP. ACT ANN. § 6.22 (2002) (stating that “[u]nless otherwise
provided in the articles of incorporation, a shareholder of a corporation is not personally liable
for the acts or debts of the corporation except that he may become personally liable by reason of
his own acts or conduct.”). The limited liability rule, of course, is subject to the equitable
exception most commonly known as “piercing the corporate veil.” See generally BAINBRIDGE,
supra note 5, at 151-71 (discussing veil piercing and related doctrines); CLARK, supra note 58, at
71-85 (same); GEVURTZ, supra note 28, at 69-111 (same).
165. To be sure, creditors could protect themselves ex ante either by negotiating contractual
limitations on corporate behavior, such as restrictions on the types of projects in which the firm
may invest, or by negotiating for a share of the up-side, such as through the use of convertible
debt securities. See KLEIN & COFFEE, supra note 160, at 257 (noting that in risky debt
transactions “substantial constraints on the firm’s freedom of action are likely to be imposed by
the terms of the loan agreement or by the covenants” in a bond indenture). The utility of such
devices, however, is vitiated by the inherently incomplete nature of such contractual provisions
and the resulting room for ex post opportunism by the shareholders. See id. at 258 (explaining
why drafting workable contractual protections is “not feasible”). Alternatively, creditors can force
shareholders to internalize those risks by charging a higher interest rate that compensates the
creditor for the higher risk of default. Cf. id. at 235-36 (discussing why borrowers must

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112 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

Second, shareholders can largely eliminate firm-specific risk by

holding a diversified portfolio.166 Accordingly, although investors are
risk averse and therefore demand a risk premium when investing,167
that premium will only reflect certain risks.168 Modern portfolio theory
distinguishes systematic risks from unsystematic risks.169
Unsystematic risks are those specific to a particular firm, such as the
risk that the CEO will have a heart attack, the firm’s workers will go
out on strike, or the plant will burn down.170 Systematic risks are
those that are general to the market as a whole and thus affect all
firms to one degree or another, such as changes in market interest
rates or the prevailing economic climate.171 Investors can eliminate
unsystematic risk by diversifying their portfolio, because things tend
to come out in the wash.172 If one firm’s plant burns down, another will
hit oil, and so on.173 In contrast, no matter how well investors diversify
their portfolios, they cannot eliminate systematic risk, because it
affects all stocks.174 Consequently, according to modern portfolio
theory, while investors must be compensated for bearing systematic
risk, they need not be compensated for bearing unsystematic risk.175
Returns on specific investments therefore differ not because the

compensate creditors for bearing risk). Indeed, the distinguishing characteristic of voluntary
creditors (as opposed to involuntary creditors) is that they can allow for the risk of default in the
initial contract with the corporation. BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 146 (noting that “contract
creditors can protect themselves by bargaining with the controlling shareholder and obtaining a
modification of the default rule”). Lenders, for example, factor in the risk of default in calculating
the interest rate. See id. at 148 (noting that “[t]rade creditors concerned about limited liability
should simply raise their interest rates or refuse to transact except on a cash basis.”). Thus, it
matters little to the lender if an individual corporation goes bankrupt (assuming diversification
of risk). While the lender will sustain a loss as a result of the transaction with the bankrupt
corporation, it will recoup that loss through the interest rate it receives from other borrowers. In
this way, voluntary creditors pass on the risk of default to the shareholders, even in a system of
limited liability. See id. at 146 (concluding that limited liability is based on “an efficient general
presumption about the allocation of risks between shareholders and creditors”).
166. RONALD J. GILSON & BERNARD S. BLACK, (SOME OF THE) ESSENTIALS OF FINANCE AND
INVESTMENT 95-97 (1993).
167. See KLEIN & COFFEE, supra note 160, at 233-35 (describing the risk premium as the
difference in the rate of return paid on a risky investment and the rate of return on a risk-free
investment).
168. See generally DOOLEY, supra note 58, at 88-97 (discussing portfolio theory).
169. See generally GILSON & BLACK, supra note 166, at 96-97 (discussing and defining these
categories of risk).
170. Id. at 97.
171. Id. at 96.
172. Id. at 97.
173. Id.
174. Cf. id. at 96 (defining systematic risk as the risk that “remains after full
diversification”).
175. DOOLEY, supra note 58, at 90; GILSON & BLACK, supra note 166, at 95-97.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 113

corporations involved have differing levels of firm-specific risk, but

rather because firms differ insofar as their sensitivity to systematic
risk is concerned.176 The Capital Asset Pricing Model (CAPM) uses the
well-known beta coefficient to measure that relative sensitivity to
systematic risk.177
Given limited liability and diversification, rational
shareholders should be indifferent to changes in corporate policies
that merely alter exposure to unsystematic risks. Instead, they should
focus on (and prefer) policies that portend a higher rate of return by
increasing the firm’s beta. In contrast, rational corporate managers—
and, to a lesser extent, directors—should be risk averse with respect to
such policies. Corporate managers typically have substantial firm-
specific human capital.178 Unfortunately for such managers, however,
the risks inherent in firm-specific capital investments cannot be
reduced by diversification; managers obviously cannot diversify their
human capital among a number of different firms.179 As a result,
managers will be averse to risks shareholders are perfectly happy to
tolerate.180
The diversion of interests as between shareholders and
managers will be compounded if managers face the risk of legal
liability, on top of economic loss, in the event a risky decision turns
out badly. Business decisions rarely involve black-and-white issues;
instead, they typically involve prudential judgments among a number

176. GILSON & BLACK, supra note 166, at 97 (asserting that the value of stock or any other
asset “should depend only on systematic risk”).
177. RICHARD A. BREALEY & STEWART C. MYERS, PRINCIPLES OF CORPORATE FINANCE 195
(7th ed. 2003). CAPM is somewhat controversial in the finance literature. See id. at 198-203
(discussing critiques of CAPM). It remains more-or-less the state of the art in the legal
community, however, being especially widely used in valuation proceedings. See, e.g., Hintmann
v. Fred Weber, Inc., No. 12839, 1998 WL 83052 (Del. Ch. Feb. 17, 1998) (using CAPM to
determine cost of equity capital); Le Beau v. M.G. Bancorp., Inc., 1998 WL 44993 (Del. Ch. Jan.
29, 1998) (using CAPM to determine the discount rate), aff’d, 737 A.2d 513 (Del. 1999); Gilbert v.
MPM Enters., Inc., 709 A.2d 663 (Del. Ch. 1997) (using CAPM to determine cost of equity
capital), aff’d, 731 A.2d 790 (Del. 1999); Ryan v. Tad’s Enters., Inc., 709 A.2d 682 (Del. Ch. 1996)
(using CAPM to determine discount rate), aff’d, 693 A.2d. 1082 (Del. 1997).
178. Margaret M. Blair & Lynn A. Stout, Director Accountability and the Mediating Role of
the Corporate Board, 79 WASH. U. L.Q. 403, 414 (2001) (explaining that “employees and
managers often make large investments in firm-specific human capital”); Jeffrey N. Gordon,
What Enron Means for the Management and Control of the Modern Business Corporation: Some
Initial Reflections, 69 U. CHI. L. REV. 1233, 1245 (2002) (explaining that “[m]anagers generally
make large firm-specific human capital investments in their firms and thus are risk-averse”).
179. Sanford M. Jacoby, Employee Representation and Corporate Governance: A Missing
Link, 3 U. PA. J. LAB. & EMP. L. 449, 452 (2001) (observing that “institutional investors have
large, diversified portfolios whereas managers’ assets are less diversified due to a heavy
investment in firm-specific human capital and in the stock of the company that employs them”).
180. Gordon, supra note 178, at 1245; Jacoby, supra note 179, at 452.

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114 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

of plausible alternatives.181 Given the vagaries of business, moreover,

even carefully made choices among such alternatives may turn out
badly.182
At this point, the well-known hindsight bias comes into play.183
Decision makers tend to assign an erroneously high probability of
occurrence to a probabilistic event simply because it ended up
occurring.184 If a jury knows that the plaintiff was injured, the jury
will be biased in favor of imposing negligence liability even if, viewed
ex ante, there was a very low probability that such an injury would
occur and taking precautions against such an injury was not cost
effective.185 Even where duty of care cases are tried without a jury, as
in Delaware,186 judges who know with the benefit of hindsight that a
business decision turned out badly likewise could be biased towards
finding a breach of the duty of care.187
Hence, there is a substantial risk that suing shareholders and
reviewing judges will be unable to distinguish between competent and
negligent management because bad outcomes often will be regarded,
ex post, as having been foreseeable and, therefore, preventable ex
ante.188 If liability results from bad outcomes, without regard to the ex

181. James J. Hanks, Jr., Evaluating Recent State Legislation on Director and Officer
Liability Limitation and Indemnification, 43 BUS. LAW. 1207, 1232 (1988).
182. Cf. In re Limited, Inc., Civ. A. No. 17148-NC, 2002 WL 537692, at *9 (Del. Ch. Mar. 27,
2002) (explaining that the fact that plaintiff “identifies viable alternatives to the Board’s decision
here is not enough—it is precisely this kind of judicial after-the-fact evaluation that the business
judgment rule seeks to prevent”).
183. In a valuation proceeding, Delaware’s Vice Chancellor Leo Strine explained:
The possibility of hindsight bias and other cognitive distortions seems untenably high.
Consider this analogy. Suppose there was an interview with Sir George Martin from
1962 in which he opined as to how many number one songs he thought would be
released by his new proteges, the Beatles. Could one fast-forward to 1971, interview
Martin, and revise Martin’s earlier projection in some reliable way, recognizing that
Martin would have known the correct answer as of that date? How could Martin
provide information that would not be possibly influenced in some way by his
knowledge of the actual success enjoyed by the Beatles and his recollection of his
earlier projection?
Agranoff v. Miller, 791 A.2d 880, 892 (Del. Ch. 2001).
184. Christine Jolls et al., A Behavioral Approach to Law and Economics, 50 STAN. L. REV.
1471, 1523 (1998).
185. Id. at 1523-27. For a useful analysis relating the hindsight bias to the business
judgment rule, see Hal R. Arkes & Cindy A. Schipani, Medical Malpractice v. the Business
Judgment Rule: Differences in Hindsight Bias, 73 OR. L. REV. 587 (1994).
186. See DEL. CONST. art. IV, § 10 (providing that the Chancery court sits without a jury).
187. Cf. Chris Guthrie et al., Inside the Judicial Mind, 86 CORNELL L. REV. 777, 799-805
(2001) (discussing empirical evidence that judicial decision making is tainted by the hindsight
bias). See generally infra Part IV.B (discussing judicial decision-making errors and biases).
188. In Joy v. North, 692 F.2d 880, 885-86 (2d Cir. 1982), Judge Ralph Winter explained:
[C]ourts recognize that after-the-fact litigation is a most imperfect device to evaluate
corporate business decisions. The circumstances surrounding a corporate decision are

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 115

ante quality of the decision or the decision-making process, however,

managers will be discouraged from taking risks.189 If it is true that
“lack of gumption is the single largest source of agency costs,”190
rational shareholders will disfavor liability rules discouraging risk
taking.
This analysis suggests that rational shareholders would be
willing to precommit by contract to refrain from challenging the
reasonableness of managerial business decisions. Obviously, however,
the practicalities of running a large corporation with fluid stock
ownership preclude effecting such a policy by contract.191 The business
judgment rule thus may be seen as providing a default off-the-rack
rule that both shareholders and managers would prefer, as Judge
Ralph Winter opined in Joy v. North:
Although the rule has suffered under academic criticism, it is not without rational
basis. . . . [B]ecause potential profit often corresponds to the potential risk, it is very
much in the interest of shareholders that the law not create incentives for overly
cautious corporate decisions. . . . Shareholders can reduce the volatility of risk by
diversifying their holdings. In the case of the diversified shareholder, the seemingly
more risky alternatives may well be the best choice since great losses in some stocks will
over time be offset by even greater gains in others. . . . A rule which penalizes the choice
of seemingly riskier alternatives thus may not be in the interest of shareholders
generally.192

not easily reconstructed in a courtroom years later, since business imperatives often
call for quick decisions, inevitably based on less than perfect information. The
entrepreneur’s function is to encounter risks and to confront uncertainty, and a
reasoned decision at the time made may seem a wild hunch viewed years later against
a background of perfect knowledge.
See also Jeffrey J. Rachlinski, A Positive Psychological Theory of Judging in Hindsight, 65 U.
CHI. L. REV. 571, 574 (1998) (arguing that “in corporate law, the business judgment rule protects
corporate officers and directors from liability for negligent business decisions because, in part, of
the tendency for adverse outcomes to seem inevitable”).
189. Cf. Arkes & Schipani, supra note 185, at 624 (suggesting that “retrospective evaluation
of business decisions might discourage highly qualified people from serving on boards of
directors”).
190. EASTERBROOK & FISCHEL, supra note 115, at 99.
191. See supra note 145 (discussing the hypothetical bargain methodology). The contractual
nature of the business judgment rule is implied by Judge Winter’s argument that:
Investors need not buy stock, for investment markets offer an array of opportunities
less vulnerable to mistakes in judgment by corporate officers. Nor need investors buy
stock in particular corporations. In the exercise of what is genuinely a free choice, the
quality of a firm’s management is often decisive and information is available from
professional advisors. Since shareholders can and do select among investments partly
on the basis of management, the business judgment rule merely recognizes a certain
voluntariness in undertaking the risk of bad business decisions.
Joy, 692 F.2d at 885.
192. Id. at 885-86 (footnotes omitted). Or, as Chancellor Allen similarly observed in
Gagliardi v. Trifoods Int’l, Inc., 683 A.2d 1049, 1052 (Del. Ch. 1996) (emphasis omitted):
Shareholders can diversify the risks of their corporate investments. Thus, it is in their
economic interest for the corporation to accept in rank order all positive net present
value investment projects available to the corporation, starting with the highest risk

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116 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

Hence, judges should abstain from reviewing the substantive merits of

business decisions. When courts review the objective merits of a board
decision, as some variants of the standard of review conception
allow,193 they effectively penalize “the choice of seemingly riskier
alternatives.”
Although Winter’s analysis is compelling, it nevertheless is
incomplete in several important respects. First, Winter’s argument
cannot be a complete explanation for the business judgment rule
because it assumes that negligence by corporate directors must be a
form of unsystematic risk. It must be so, because such negligence
could not be diversified away otherwise. If so, however, why is neither
fraud nor illegality on the part of such directors also a form of
unsystematic risk? Just as a shareholder could protect herself against
bad decisions, so could a shareholder protect herself against
fraudulent decisions. Yet, the business judgment rule has never
protected directors who commit fraud or self-dealing.194
Second, the analysis thus far has fudged the distinction
between directors and managers. To be sure, some commentators
contend that directors have the same incentives for risk aversion as
managers. As Chancellor Allen explained in Gagliardi v. Trifoods
International, Inc.:
Corporate directors of public companies typically have a very small proportionate
ownership interest in their corporations and little or no incentive compensation. Thus,
they enjoy (as residual owners) only a very small proportion of any “upside” gains
earned by the corporation on risky investment projects. If, however, corporate directors
were to be found liable for a corporate loss from a risky project on the ground that the
investment was too risky . . ., their liability would be joint and several for the whole loss
(with I suppose a right of contribution). Given the scale of operation of modern public
corporations, this stupefying disjunction between risk and reward for corporate directors
threatens undesirable effects. Given this disjunction, only a very small probability of
director liability based on “negligence,” “inattention,” “waste,” etc., could induce a board
to avoid authorizing risky investment projects to any extent! Obviously, it is in the
shareholders’ economic interest to offer sufficient protection to directors from liability
for negligence, etc., to allow directors to conclude that, as a practical matter, there is no
risk that, if they act in good faith and meet minimal proceduralist standards of
attention, they can face liability as a result of a business loss.195

Allen likely is correct, but it is doubtful whether outside directors

make substantial investments in firm-specific human capital. At the

adjusted rate of return first. Shareholders don’t want (or shouldn’t rationally want)
directors to be risk averse. Shareholders’ investment interests, across the full range of
their diversifiable equity investments, will be maximized if corporate directors and
managers honestly assess risk and reward and accept for the corporation the highest
risk adjusted returns available that are above the firm’s cost of capital.
193. See supra notes 43-44 and accompanying text.
194. See supra note 80 and accompanying text.
195. 683 A.2d 1049, 1052 (Del. Ch. 1996).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 117

same time, it has become very common for public corporations to

require that newly appointed directors purchase substantial blocks of
the corporation’s shares or compensate directors in the corporation’s
stock, which practice has been empirically linked to improved
corporate performance, probably by aligning director and shareholder
interests.196 Hence, outside directors may not be quite as risk averse
as inside directors and other managers. Indeed, to the contrary, the
incentives of outside directors may well be somewhat closer to
shareholder preferences than to those of managers.
Finally, encouraging risk taking must be deemed an incomplete
explanation because it fails to account for many of the rule’s
applications. Consider, for example, the business decision made in
Shlensky. Was Wrigley an innovator making a venturesome business
decision or an eccentric coot who was just behind the times? How can
we know when the business judgment rule precluded Shlensky from
even getting up to bat?197 In sum, encouraging risk taking is part of
the story, but only part. Something else is going on as well.

B. Judges Are Not Business Experts

In Dodge v. Ford Motor Co., the Michigan Supreme Court

famously invoked the business judgment rule in refusing to enjoin
Henry Ford’s plans to expand production.198 As justification for its
decision, the court modestly observed that “The judges are not
business experts.”199 Although we shall see that this too is an
incomplete explanation for the business judgment rule at best, it has
somewhat more plausibility than it is usually given in the
literature.200

196. See generally Sanjai Bhagat et al., Director Ownership, Corporate Performance, and
Management Turnover, 54 BUS. LAW. 885 (1999) (discussing trends in director stock ownership);
Charles M. Elson, Director Compensation and the Management-Captured Board: The History of a
Symptom and a Cure, 50 SMU L. REV. 127 (1996) (same).
197. Alternatively, consider the business judgment rule’s role in precluding shareholder
derivative litigation. Although some scholars regard decisions about pursuing specific litigation
as being more appropriate for judicial review than ordinary business decisions, the business
judgment rule substantially insulates such decisions from judicial review. See, e.g., John C.
Coffee & Donald Schwartz, The Survival of the Derivative Suit: An Evaluation and a Proposal for
Legislative Reform, 81 COLUM. L. REV. 261, 280-84 (1981).
198. 170 N.W. 668, 684 (Mich. 1919) (noting that “[w]e are not, however, persuaded that we
should interfere with the proposed expansion of the business of the Ford Motor Company.”).
199. Id. (emphasis added).
200. For criticism of this explanation of the rule, see Davis, supra note 4, at 581 (arguing
that “judges should find it far easier to overcome the barrier of expertise and stand in the shoes
of outside directors than in those of almost any of the other professionals whose actions courts
are routinely called upon to review”); Greenfield & Nilsson, supra note 14, at 825-26 (suggesting
that “[t]his rationale . . . seems more than a little disingenuous.”); and Dale A. Oesterle & Alan

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118 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

A modern version of this rationale can be constructed by

building on the burgeoning insights for legal analysis of cognitive
psychology and behavioral economics.201 The rational choice model of
neoclassical economics not only assumes that individuals act so as to
maximize their expected utility, but also acknowledges no limits on
their cognitive power so to do.202 In contrast, behavioral economics
contends that the limitations of human cognition often result in
decisions that fail to maximize utility.203 These limitations are
bundled in the concept of “bounded rationality,” which describes the
inherent limits on the ability of decision makers to gather and process
information.204 All humans have inherently limited memories,
computational skills, and other mental tools, for example.205
Under conditions of uncertainty and complexity, boundedly
rational decision makers are unable to devise either a fully specified
solution to the problem at hand or fully assess the probable outcomes
of their action.206 In effect, cognitive power is a scarce resource, which
the inexorable laws of economics tell us decision makers will (to the
best of their ability) seek to allocate efficiently. Consistent with that
prediction, there is evidence that actors attempt to minimize effort in
the face of complexity and ambiguity.207
As applied to judicial decision making, the inherent cognitive
limitations implied by bounded rationality are reinforced both by the
incentive structures familiar from agency cost economics and the well-
known institutional constraints on adjudication (such as the necessity
in many courts of general jurisdiction to provide speedy trials for
criminal defendants).208 In addition, of course, there is the problem of

R. Palmiter, Judicial Schizophrenia in Shareholder Voting Cases, 79 IOWA L. REV. 485, 572
(1994) (dismissing this rationale as an “old adage”). For a defense, see Manning, supra note 127,
at 1491 (arguing that lawyers and judges favor a mode of linear thinking inapplicable to business
decision making).
201. For an anthology of essays on behavioral economics that provides a good introduction to
the field, see generally CASS R. SUNSTEIN, BEHAVIORAL LAW AND ECONOMICS (2000).
202. Russell B. Korobkin & Thomas S. Ulen, Law and Behavioral Science: Removing the
Rationality Assumption from Law and Economics, 88 CAL. L. REV. 1051, 1075 (2000).
203. See OLIVER E. WILLIAMSON, THE ECONOMIC INSTITUTIONS OF CAPITALISM 45-46 (1985)
(quoting Herbert Simon to the effect that economic actors are “intendedly rational, but only
limitedly so”).
204. See generally PAUL MILGROM & JOHN ROBERTS, ECONOMICS, ORGANIZATION AND
MANAGEMENT 127-29 (1992) (defining the concept mostly by examples).
205. Jolls et al., supra note 184, at 1477.
206. See OLIVER E. WILLIAMSON, MARKETS AND HIERARCHIES: ANALYSIS AND ANTITRUST
IMPLICATIONS 23 (1975) (under conditions of uncertainty and complexity, it becomes “very costly,
perhaps impossible, to describe the complete decision tree”).
207. See Korobkin & Ulen, supra note 202, at 1078 (citing studies).
208. See generally Stephen M. Bainbridge & Mitu Gulati, How Do Judges Maximize? (The
Same Way Everybody Else Does—Boundedly): Rules of Thumb in Securities Fraud Opinions, 51

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 119

hindsight bias discussed above.209 Under such conditions, judges will

shirk—i.e., look for ways of deciding cases with minimal effort.210
An actor can economize limited cognitive resources in two
ways. First, he may adopt institutional governance structures
designed to promote more efficient decision making.211 Second, he
may invoke shortcuts; i.e., heuristic problem-solving decision-making
processes.212 Is the business judgment rule an example of the latter
tactic? When one considers the ease with which the Shlensky court
disposed of the plaintiff’s claims, the idea seems not wholly
implausible.
Business decisions are frequently complex and made under
conditions of uncertainty. Accordingly, bounded rationality and
information asymmetries counsel judicial abstention from reviewing
board decisions. Judges likely have less general business expertise
than directors. They also have less information about the specifics of
the particular firm in question. Consider the Shlensky court’s
discussion of possible effects of putting lights in Wrigley Field.213 The
court seems to be acknowledging the limits of its knowledge. Finally,
most judges only rarely face business judgment issues. Most judges
likely arrive on the bench with little expertise in corporate law and,
equally likely, have little incentive to develop substantial institutional
expertise in this area after they arrive. Because the legal and business
issues are complex, and because judges are as subject as anyone to the
cognitive limitations implied by bounded rationality, they have an
incentive to duck these cases. In Eric Posner’s useful phrase, many
judges are “radically incompetent”:214
[C]ourts have trouble understanding the simplest of business relationships. This is not
surprising. Judges must be generalists, but they usually have narrow backgrounds in a
particular field of the law. Moreover, they often owe their positions to political

EMORY L.J. 83 (2002) (discussing constraints and incentives that impact judicial decision
making).
209. See supra notes 183-189 and accompanying text.
210. The claim is not that judges do not work hard. Bainbridge & Gulati, supra note 208, at
106. The claim is only that judges have incentives to “delegate opinions to the clerks and focus
their own attention on making sure that the opinions are ‘good enough’ so as to avoid negative
attention.” Id. at 109.
211. WILLIAMSON, supra note 203, at 46.
212. Id. For claims that judges make use of decision-making heuristics, see Bainbridge &
Gulati, supra note 208, at 112 (arguing that “the use of shortcuts by the courts is neither a new
phenomenon nor one unique to securities doctrine”); and Hillary A. Sale, Judging Heuristics, 35
U.C. DAVIS L. REV. 903, 905 (2002) (arguing that “judges find ways to meet the demands of their
jobs” by using “shortcuts, or heuristics”).
213. See supra notes 86-89 and accompanying text.
214. Eric A. Posner, A Theory of Contract Law Under Conditions of Radical Judicial Error,
94 NW. U. L. REV. 749, 754 (2000).

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120 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

connections, not to merit. Their frequent failure to understand transactions is well-

documented. One survey of cases involving consumer credit, for example, showed that
the judges did not even understand the concept of present value. . . . Skepticism about
the quality of judicial decisionmaking is reflected in many legal doctrines, including the
business judgment rule in corporate law, which restrains courts from second-guessing
managers and directors . . . .215

Although this line of analysis has considerable traction, it too

cannot be a complete explanation for the business judgment rule. In
the first instance, business is not the only context in which judges are
called upon to review complex issues arising under conditions of
uncertainty. Reviewing Wrigley’s refusal to install lights strikes many
as no more onerous than reviewing medical or product design
decisions.216 Yet, no “medical judgment” or “design judgment” rule
precludes judicial review of malpractice or product liability cases.217
Something else must be going on.
In the second instance, Posner overlooks both the pervasive
role Delaware plays in business judgment rule jurisprudence and the
unique incentive structure in which Delaware courts function.218 The
rationality of Delaware chancellors is bounded—just like that of
everyone else.219 Like all judges, moreover, Delaware chancellors face
significant resource constraints, especially with respect to the time
available for decision making.220 In contrast to judges in other states,
however, Delaware chancellors frequently have considerable prior
corporate experience as practitioners.221 Once on the bench, there is a

215. Id. at 758 (footnote omitted).

216. See, e.g., EASTERBROOK & FISCHEL, supra note 115, at 94 (asking why “the same judges
who decide whether engineers have designed the compressors on jet engines properly . . . cannot
decide whether a manager negligently failed to sack a subordinate who made improvident
loans”).
217. See Arkes & Schipani, supra note 185, at 613-17 (noting the disparity of treatment of
business and medical decisions).
218. On Delaware’s dominance, see BAINBRIDGE, supra note 5, at 16; GEVURTZ, supra note
28, at 42-43. For a good analysis of the contribution the Delaware Chancery Court makes to
Delaware’s dominance, see Jill E. Fisch, The Peculiar Role of the Delaware Courts in the
Competition for Corporate Charters, 68 U. CIN. L. REV. 1061 (2000). See also William H.
Rehnquist, The Prominence of the Delaware Court of Chancery in the State-Federal Joint Venture
of Providing Justice, 48 BUS. LAW. 351 (1992) (providing an appreciation of the chancery court’s
prominence); E. Norman Veasey, The National Court of Excellence, 48 BUS. LAW. 357 (1992)
(same).
219. See Bainbridge & Gulati, supra note 208, at 149, on which the following discussion
draws.
220. Time constraints are particularly significant for the chancery court’s members due to
the longstanding norm in that court of deciding corporate law cases on an expedited basis. See
Stephen J. Massey, Chancellor Allen’s Jurisprudence and the Theory of Corporate Law, 17 DEL.
J. CORP. L. 683, 704-05 (1992) (describing chancery court’s goal of responsiveness).
221. See William T. Quillen & Michael Hanrahan, A Short History of the Delaware Court of
Chancery—1792-1992, 18 DEL. J. CORP. L. 819, 841-65 (1993) (describing in exhaustive detail the
backgrounds of Delaware’s 20th Century chancellors).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 121

substantial pay-off for Delaware chancellors who continue to master

corporate law. Delaware chancellors sit at “the center of the corporate
law universe.”222 Unlike other courts, which face corporate cases only
episodically, such cases make up a very high percentage of the
Delaware chancellors’ docket. The frequency with which they face
such cases provides a strong incentive for Delaware’s chancellors to
master both doctrine and the business environment in which the
doctrine works.223 In particular, there is a strong reputational
incentive to do so. Sitting without juries in a court of equity, Delaware
chancellors put their reputation on the line whenever they make a
decision.224 Because so many major corporations are incorporated in
Delaware,225 chancery court cases are often high profile and the court’s
decisions therefore are subject to close scrutiny by the media,
academics, and practitioners. The reputation of a Delaware chancellor
thus depends on his or her ability to decide corporate law disputes
quickly and carefully.
For these reasons, the adage that “judges are not business
experts” cannot be a complete explanation for the business judgment
rule. Yet, many old adages have more than a grain of truth. So too
does this one. Justice Jackson famously observed of the Supreme Court:
“We are not final because we are infallible, but we are infallible only
because we are final.”226 Neither courts nor boards are infallible, but
someone must be final. Otherwise, we end up with a never-ending
process of appellate review. The question then is simply who is better
suited to be vested with the mantle of infallibility that comes by virtue of
being final—directors or judges?

222. D. Gordon Smith, Chancellor Allen and the Fundamental Question, 21 SEATTLE U. L.
REV. 577, 578 (1998).
223. Cf. Rochelle C. Dreyfuss, Forums of the Future: The Role of Specialized Courts in
Resolving Business Disputes, 61 BROOK. L. REV. 1, 37 (1995) (arguing that “[c]ases cannot be
adjudicated any more efficiently than Delaware is currently adjudicating them.”); Fisch, supra
note 218, at 1078 (opining that “Delaware chancery judges are known for their expertise in
business matters, and the court has developed a reputation for its sophistication in corporate
law”); Greenfield & Nilsson, supra note 14, at 825 (arguing that “the Delaware Supreme Court
displays a marked ability to address business decisions in a very detailed way. This ability
undermines the notion . . . that courts are incapable of such analysis.”).
224. See Rehnquist, supra note 218, at 352-53 (observing that “because no juries exist in
equity, a chancellor is even more personally responsible for the quality of justice than a
traditional ‘law judge’”).
225. See Michael P. Dooley & Michael D. Goldman, Some Comparisons Between the Model
Business Corporation Act and the Delaware General Corporation Law, 56 BUS. LAW. 737, 737
(2001) (noting that “[f]or many years, Delaware has been chosen as the state of incorporation by
more than half of all Fortune 500 companies and more than 45 percent of New York Stock
Exchange listed companies.”).
226. Brown v. Allen, 344 U.S. 443, 540 (1953) (Jackson, J., concurring).

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122 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

Corporate directors operate within a pervasive web of

accountability mechanisms. A very important set of constraints are
provided by competition in a number of markets.227 The capital and
product markets, the internal and external employment markets, and
the market for corporate control all constrain shirking by directors and
managers.228 Granted, only the most naïve would assume that these
markets perfectly constrain director decision making.229 It would be
equally naïve, however, to ignore the lack of comparable market
constraints on judicial decision making. Market forces work an imperfect
Darwinian selection on corporate decision makers, but no such forces
constrain erring judges.230 As such, rational shareholders will prefer the
risk of director error to that of judicial error. Hence, shareholders will
want judges to abstain from reviewing board decisions.231
The shareholders’ preference for abstention, however, extends
only to board decisions motivated by a desire to maximize shareholder
wealth. Where the directors’ decision is motivated by considerations
other than shareholder wealth, as where the directors engage in self-
dealing or seek to defraud the shareholders, however, the question is no

227. See supra note 155 (noting potential for market constraints).
228. See Jonathan R. Macey, Private Trusts for the Provision of Private Goods, 37 EMORY L.J.
295, 303-06, 315 (1988) (arguing that “[c]ompetition in capital markets, product markets, and the
market for corporate control all induce managers and directors of public corporations to act in
ways consonant with shareholder welfare.”); Mark J. Roe, German Codetermination and German
Securities Markets, 1998 COLUM. BUS. L. REV. 167, 181 (identifying the “principal monitoring
mechanisms” as “market competition (in capital and product markets), takeovers, a good board of
directors, and a concentrated shareholder”).
229. A. Mechele Dickerson, A Behavioral Approach to Analyzing Corporate Failures, 38
WAKE FOREST L. REV. 1, 21 (2003) (opining that although “market restraints” should “induce
directors to make decisions . . . that are in the best interests of the business,” markets “generally
will not curb directorial misconduct—especially when firms face financial crises”).
230. EASTERBROOK & FISCHEL, supra note 115, at 100. This is not to say, of course, that
judicial review is entirely unconstrained. To the contrary, judges are subject to a variety of
formal and informal constraints. See Stephen M. Bainbridge, Social Propositions and Common
Law Adjudication, 1990 U. ILL. L. REV. 231, 237 (listing several constraints on the adjudicatory
process). In my view, however, Easterbrook and Fischel correctly argue that Darwinian selection
works far more effectively in the business setting, where markets operate, than with respect to
adjudication.
231. Another way of looking at the problem invokes the principle of subsidiarity, which
posits the social primacy of the smallest units in society. In turn, subsidiarity provides both
moral and instrumental justification for the business judgment rule:
[Subsidiarity] suggests that people closest to the problem at hand are the ones with
the strongest moral claim to finding a solution. To empower higher authorities as
anything but second-best solutions or even last resorts endangers the rights and
liberties of those who are most affected. The subsidiarity principle also embodies the
practical point that those closest to the problem have the strongest interest in seeing
that the problem is solved most competently.
Robert A. Sirico, Subsidiarity, Society, and Entitlements: Understanding and Application, 11
NOTRE DAME J.L. ETHICS & PUB. POL’Y 549, 552 (1997). Because boards are closer to the problem
than courts, subsidiarity posits that they should have decision-making primacy.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 123

longer one of honest error but of intentional misconduct. Despite the

limitations of judicial review, rational shareholders would prefer judicial
intervention with respect to board decisions so tainted.232 The
affirmative case for disregarding honest errors simply does not apply to
intentional misconduct. To the contrary, given the potential for self-
dealing in an organization characterized by a separation of ownership
and control, the risk of legal liability may be a necessary deterrent
against such misconduct.
Note the resulting link between this justification of the business
judgment rule—i.e., the likelihood of judicial error—and the preceding
justification—i.e., encouraging optimal risk taking. In theory, if judicial
decision making could flawlessly sort out sound decisions with
unfortunate outcomes from poor decisions, and directors were confident
that there was no risk of hindsight-based liability, the case for the
business judgment rule would be substantially weaker.233 As long as
there is some non-zero probability of erroneous second-guessing by
judges, however, the threat of liability will skew director decision
making away from optimal risk taking. That this result will occur even
if the risk of judicial error is quite small is suggested by the work of
behavioral economists on loss aversion and regret avoidance.
Behavioral economists have demonstrated that people evaluate
the utility of a decision by measuring the change effected by the
decision relative to a neutral reference point.234 Changes framed in a
way that makes things worse (losses) loom larger in the decision-
making process than changes framed as making things better (gains)
even if the expected value of the two decisions is the same.235 Hence, a
loss averse person (as are most people) will be more perturbed by the
prospect of losing $100 than pleased by that of gaining $100. A bias
against risk taking is a natural result of loss aversion, because the
decision maker will give the disadvantages of a change greater weight
than its potential advantages.236 Hence, the so-called status quo bias.
Closely related to the loss aversion phenomenon, and a possible
explanation for it, is the psychological concept of regret avoidance.
Decision makers experience greater regret when undesirable

232. As Delaware Chief Justice Veasey observes, “investors do not want self-dealing
directors or those bent on entrenchment in office. . . . Trust of directors is the key because of the
self-governing nature of corporate law. Yet the law is strong enough to rein in directors who
would flirt with an abuse of that trust.” E. Norman Veasey, An Economic Rationale for Judicial
Decisionmaking in Corporate Law, 53 BUS. LAW. 681, 694 (1998).
233. Davis, supra note 4, at 574.
234. RICHARD H. THALER, THE WINNER’S CURSE: PARADOXES AND ANOMALIES OF ECONOMIC
LIFE 70 (1992).
235. Id.
236. Id. at 72.

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124 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

consequences follow from action than from inaction.237 Hence, decision

makers tend towards inertia. Because the effect of these cognitive
biases is considerably greater than traditional rational choice theory
predicts, even a small risk of liability can be expected to have a large
deterrent effect on managers who are already risk averse by virtue of
their non-diversifiable investment in firm-specific human capital.
Accordingly, shareholders will prefer judicial abstention to judicial
review.

C. Impact on the Board’s Internal Dynamics

As the discussion in the preceding sections acknowledges,

variants of the encouraging risk taking and judicial expertise
rationales for the business judgment rule are well accepted in the
literature, if not in the precise form offered here. In recent
scholarship, I have suggested a third rationale for the rule, which is
based on the potential implications of judicial review for the internal
governance of boards.238 As with the preceding explanations, the group
dynamics rationale helps justify not only the business judgment rule
itself but also the abstention doctrine version thereof championed
herein.
Recall that the corporate governance is a superb exemplar of
Kenneth Arrow’s authority model.239 Information flows up a branching
hierarchy to a central office and binding decisions flow back down.240
At the apex of that decision-making pyramid is not a single hierarch,
however, but a multi-member committee—the board—that usually
functions by consensus.241 Curiously, however, corporate law
scholarship rarely treats questions about the board as team
production problems.242

237. See Russell Korobkin, The Status Quo Bias and Contract Default Rules, 83 CORNELL L.
REV. 608, 657-59 (1998) (positing regret avoidance as an explanation of the status quo bias);
Russell Korobkin, Inertia and Preference in Contract Negotiation: The Psychological Power of
Default Rules and Form Terms, 51 VAND. L. REV. 1583, 1619-20 (1998) (same).
238. See Bainbridge, supra note 126, at 35-38, 48-54 (using research on effective group
decision making to support the business judgment rule).
239. See supra Part III.B.
240. See generally CLARK, supra note 58, at 801-16 (explaining why corporations are
structured hierarchically).
241. Bainbridge, supra note 126, at 35-36.
242. Production teams are defined conventionally as “a collection of individuals who are
interdependent in their tasks, who share responsibility for outcomes, [and] who see themselves
and who are seen by others as an intact social entity embedded in one or more larger social
systems . . . .” Susan G. Cohen & Diane E. Bailey, What Makes Teams Work: Group Effectiveness
Research from the Shop Floor to the Executive Suite, 23 J. MGMT. 239, 241 (1997).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 125

The board of directors is a good example of what Oliver

Williamson refers to as a “relational team.”243 Relational teams arise
within organizations when two conditions are satisfied: (1) team
members make large investments in firm-specific human capital; and (2)
their productivity is costly to measure because of task
nonseparability.244 Members of such a team often develop idiosyncratic
working relationships with one another.245 In fact, one might say that
members of a relational team develop not only firm-specific human
capital but also team-specific human capital.
Such teams may well make decisions that are superior to those
made by individuals acting alone.246 Individuals are subject to the
constraints of bounded rationality and the temptations to shirk or self-
deal.247 Group decision making responds to bounded rationality by
creating a system for aggregating the inputs of multiple individuals with
differing knowledge, interests, and skills.248
Although teams can be a highly effective decision-making
mechanism, they are difficult to monitor. Recall that relational teams
arise when the production process results in nonseparable outputs.249
By definition, therefore, the productivity of individual team members
cannot be measured on an output basis.250 Yet, at the same time,
individual productivity also may be quite costly to measure from an
input perspective.251 How does one measure how well a board member
cooperates in responding to changed circumstances or emergencies, for
example?252 Because neither input nor output can be measured
effectively, judicial review of board decision making cannot be an
effective monitoring mechanism.
The key problem for present purposes, and the one that
differentiates this line of argument from that of the preceding section,
however, is that judicial review could interfere with—or even destroy—
the internal team governance structures that regulate board behavior.
Research on relational teams shows that they are not only hard to

243. WILLIAMSON, supra note 203, at 246-47.

244. Id.
245. Id. at 244.
246. Bainbridge, supra note 126, at 12-19 (reviewing empirical evidence on group versus
individual decision making).
247. Id. at 20-21.
248. Id. at 19-27.
249. See supra text accompanying note 244.
250. WILLIAMSON, supra note 203, at 244.
251. See id. (observing that “the assessment of inputs is much more subtle than effort-
accounting”).
252. Bainbridge, supra note 126, at 48.

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126 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

monitor, but that they also are hard to discipline.253 As they develop
team-specific human capital, members of a production team develop
idiosyncratic ways of working with one another that generate a form of
synergy.254 Under such circumstances, dismissal becomes a highly
undesirable sanction, because no team member can be replaced without
disrupting the entire team. Because relational teams often become
insular,255 moreover, even external sanctions falling short of dismissal
may have ripple effects throughout the team.256 Insular workplace
teams often fail to deal effectively with outsiders.257 In particular,
relational teams often respond to external monitoring efforts by “circling
the wagons” around the intended target of sanctions.258 Instead of
external review, relational teams are best monitored by a combination of
mutual motivation, peer pressure, and internal monitoring.259 As I have
explained elsewhere in more detail, however, judicial review might well
destroy the interpersonal relationships that foster these forms of
internal board governance.260 Again, shareholders will therefore prefer
a rule under which judges abstain from reviewing board decisions.
This line of analysis justifies several aspects of the business
judgment rule unexplained by alternative theories. Under this
analysis, for example, the inapplicability of the business judgment
rule to fraud or self-dealing is readily explicable. Duty-of-care
litigation is typically concerned with collective actions taken by the
board of directors as a whole. In taking such actions, we have seen,
the board is constrained to exercise reasonable care by a combination
of external market forces and internal team governance structures.

253. Id. at 49.

254. Id.
255. See Charles Hecksher, The Failure of Participatory Management, ACROSS THE BOARD,
Nov. 1995, at 16, 18 (citing empirical studies).
256. Cf. RAGHURAM G. RAJAN & LUIGI ZINGALES, THE TYRANNY OF THE INEFFICIENT: AN
ENQUIRY INTO THE ADVERSE CONSEQUENCES OF POWER STRUGGLES (Nat’l Bureau Econ. Research,
Working Paper No. 5396, 1995) (demonstrating the inefficiency of power struggles by sub-units of
an organization
257. Hecksher, supra note 255, at 16 (citing studies).
258. Cf. Zapata Corp. v. Maldonado, 430 A.2d 779, 787 (Del. 1981) (opining that directors
tasked with deciding whether the corporation should sue one or more of their fellow directors
might be affected by “a ‘there but for the grace of God go I’ empathy”).
259. WILLIAMSON, supra note 203, at 245.
260. Bainbridge, supra note 126, at 49-50. A related concern is that external review of board
decisions could have multiplicative effects throughout the firm as a whole. Because “the efficiency of
organization is affected by the degree to which individuals assent to orders, denying the authority of
an organization communication is a threat to the interests of all individuals who derive a net
advantage from their connection with the organization . . . .” CHESTER I. BARNARD, THE FUNCTIONS
OF THE EXECUTIVE 169 (2d ed. 1962). By calling into question the legitimacy of the board’s authority
within the corporation, judicial review could reduce the incentive for subordinates to assent to the
board’s decisions and thereby undermine the efficient functioning of the entire firm.

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 127

When an individual director decides to pursue a course of self-dealing,

however, he or she usually acts alone and, moreover, betrays his or
her fellow directors’ trust.261 It makes sense for courts to be less
concerned with damage to internal team governance when the
defendant director’s misconduct has already harmed that governance
structure through betrayal. Instead, by providing a set of external
sanctions against self-dealing, the law encourages directors to refrain
from such betrayals.262

D. Why Judges Must Abstain

Proponents of treating the business judgment rule as a

standard of liability rather than as an abstention doctrine might well
concede the arguments developed in the preceding sections. They
might argue, however, that the benefits attributed to the rule in those
sections can be obtained while treating the rule as a standard of
liability, so long as the standard is sufficiently lenient.263 But this is
error.
The argument herein has not been one for judicial abnegation
of its role, but rather one for judicial abstention. The distinction is a
significant one. Abstention contemplates judicial reticence, but leaves
open the possibility of intervention in appropriate circumstances. The
problem is to identify the circumstances in which intervention is
necessary. Put another way, when do accountability concerns trump
preservation of the board’s authority?
If the business judgment rule is treated as a standard of
liability, rather than as an abstention doctrine, judicial intervention
readily could become the norm rather than the exception. This is why
Technicolor is so problematic. Technicolor’s cart before the horse
formulation implies that the business judgment rule does not preclude
judicial review of cases in which the board failed to exercise
reasonable care.264 Yet, if the business judgment rule is to have teeth,

261. Cf. Robert J. Haft, The Effect of Insider Trading Rules on the Internal Efficiency of the
Large Corporation, 80 MICH. L. REV. 1051, 1062-63 (1982) (describing the deleterious effects on
board effectiveness of director self-dealing).
262. See William W. Bratton, Game Theory and the Restoration of Honor to Corporate Law’s
Duty of Loyalty, in PROGRESSIVE CORPORATE LAW 139, 154 (Lawrence E. Mitchell ed., 1995)
(arguing for a “coercive [legal] backstop” to prevent self-dealing).
263. Cf. Denise Ping Lee, Note, The Business Judgment Rule: Should It Protect Nonprofit
Directors?, 103 COLUM. L. REV. 925, 939 (2003) (observing that “[i]t is worth noting that the
‘business judgment rule is a standard of judicial review for director conduct, not a standard of
conduct.’ Because the standard of review is more relaxed than the standard of conduct set out for
directors, the corporate duty of care has been characterized as ‘more aspirational than
consequential.’” (footnotes and citations omitted)).
264. See supra notes 67-68 and accompanying text.

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128 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

it is precisely those cases in which it is especially important for courts

to abstain.265 No matter how gingerly courts apply the standard of
liability, trying to measure the “quantity” of negligence is a task best
left untried.266 As we have seen, courts will be tempted constantly to
apply the standard in ways that sanction honest decisions that, with
the benefit of hindsight, have proved unfortunate or appear inept.267
All of the adverse effects of judicial review outlined in the preceding
sections are thus implicated whether or not the board exercised
reasonable care. Unfortunately, as we have seen, Technicolor can be
read as having nullified this essential aspect of the rule.268
If the business judgment rule is framed as an abstention
doctrine, however, judicial review is more likely to be the exception
rather than the rule. The court begins with a presumption against
review. It then reviews the facts to determine not the quality of the
decision, but rather whether the decision-making process was tainted
by self-dealing and the like. The requisite questions to be asked are
more objective and straightforward: Did the board commit fraud? Did
the board commit an illegal act? Did the board self-deal? Whether or
not the board exercised reasonable care is irrelevant, as well it should
be. The business judgment rule thus builds a prophylactic barrier by
which courts pre-commit to resisting the temptation to review the
merits of the board’s decision.
To say that the abstention conception of the business judgment
rule is objective, of course, does not mean that it admits of bright-line
solutions. To the contrary, once we recognize that reconciling the
competing claims of authority and accountability is the central
problem for business judgment rule jurisprudence—indeed, for all of
corporate governance—the misnomer inherent in the law’s
nomenclature becomes apparent. It has become conventional to
distinguish between standards and rules. Rules say, “Drive 55 mph,”
while standards say, “drive reasonably.” Within that dichotomy, the
business judgment rule clearly is misnamed; it is a standard, not a
rule. The question is not whether the directors violated some bright-
line precept, but whether their conduct satisfied some standard for
judicial abstention. The greater flexibility inherent in standards
frequently comes into play in business judgment rule jurisprudence as
courts fine tune the doctrine’s application to the facts at bar.269 Much

265. Johnson, supra note 40, at 633.

266. Manne, supra note 3, at 271.
267. See supra Part IV.A.
268. See supra Part II.A.
269. Cf. Stahl v. Apple Bancorp, Inc., 579 A.2d 1115, 1125 (Del. Ch. 1990) (observing that
“inquiries concerning fiduciary duties are inherently particularized and contextual”).

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2004] THE BUSINESS JUDGMENT RULE 129

of that fine tuning can be explained as an unconscious attempt to

strike an appropriate balance between authority and accountability
under specific factual circumstances. The principal law reform
implication of this analysis thus may be that courts ought to be more
explicit both about the fact that they are balancing competing
concerns and about why they believe the balance struck in a particular
case is the appropriate one.

V. CONCLUSION

Authority and accountability are in constant tension. Seeking

to hold directors accountable for their decisions necessarily reduces
the efficiency of corporate decision making. Conversely, deference to
the board’s authority necessarily entails a risk of opportunism and
even plain carelessness. Choosing the appropriate balance between
authority and accountability is the central problem of business
judgment jurisprudence.
Although the partition admittedly is somewhat artificial, a
useful first cut at striking that balance is provided by the distinction
between operational issues, such as whether to install lighting in a
baseball park, and structural choices, especially those creating a final
period situation, such as takeovers.270 The former appropriately
receives much less probing review than does the latter.271 The thesis of
this article is that, except to verify that the relevant preconditions for
review are not met, courts should simply abstain from reviewing
operational decisions.
Abstention in operational decisions is appropriate because most
such decisions do not pose much of a conflict between the interests of
directors and shareholders. Granting, for example, that Wrigley
appears to have preferred the neighborhood’s interests to those of his
shareholders, what selfish interests was he advancing? Perhaps he
was simply trying to comply with what he saw as appropriate business
ethics. Or, maybe he had eccentric ideas about how baseball was to be
played. At most, however, he might have reaped some psychological
benefits from implementing his attitudes. Even assuming arguendo
that these sort of psychological benefits implicate the kinds of self-
dealing concerns that justify setting aside the business judgment rule,

270. See E. Norman Veasey, The Defining Tension in Corporate Governance in America, 52
BUS. LAW. 393, 394 (1997) (drawing a similar distinction between “enterprise” and “ownership”
decisions). As Chief Justice Veasey points out, a third class of cases involves judicial review of
board oversight. Such cases typically involve no exercise of business judgment and, hence, the
business judgment rule does not apply. Id. Such cases fall outside the scope of this article.
271. See id. (noting that “[t]here is little or no court interference in enterprise issues.”).

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130 VANDERBILT LAW REVIEW [Vol. 57:1

it is not clear that Wrigley’s “self-interest” conflicted with the interests

of their shareholders. With their theoretically perpetual duration,
corporations must plan for the long-term.272 As the Shlensky court’s
dictum suggested, it is plausible that Wrigley’s opposition to lights
was in the shareholders’ best long-term interest.273
Wrigley probably made the wrong decision. But so what?
Operational decisions are a species of what economists refer to as
repeat transactions. Where parties expect to have repeated
transactions, the risk of self-dealing by one party is constrained by the
threat that the other party will punish the cheating party in future
transactions. To be sure, shareholder discipline is not a very
important check on directorial self-dealing. Yet, as we have seen, it is
just one of an array of extrajudicial constraints that, in totality, give
directors to exercise reasonable care in decision making. True, these
constraining forces do not eliminate the possibility of director error.
The directors will still err from time to time. It is precisely this sort of
error, however, that this Article has argued courts traditionally—and
appropriately—abstain from reviewing.

272. Accordingly, directors may pursue plans that are in the corporation’s “best interests
without regard to a fixed investment horizon.” Paramount Communications, Inc. v. Time, Inc.,
571 A.2d 1140, 1150 (Del. 1989); see also In re Reading Co., 711 F.2d 509, 520 (3d Cir. 1983)
(corporate pricing and dividend policies that failed to maximize short-term profits nevertheless
could rationally be seen as in corporation’s long-term interest).
273. See supra text accompanying notes 87-88.

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