The Born Prophecy

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Brooksley Born
Photo by Erika Larsen/Redux Pictures

Shortly after she was named to head the Commodity Futures Trading Commission in 1996, Brooksley E. Born was invited to lunch by Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan.

The influential Greenspan was an ardent proponent of unfettered markets. Born was a powerful Washington, D.C., lawyer with a track record for activ­ist causes. Over lunch in his private dining room at the stately headquarters of the Fed in Washington, Green­span probed their differences.

“Well, Brooksley, I guess you and I will never agree about fraud,” Born, in a recent interview, remembers Greenspan saying.

“What is there not to agree on?” Born says she replied.

“Well, you probably will always believe there should be laws against fraud, and I don’t think there is any need for a law against fraud,” she recalls him saying. Greenspan, Born says, believed the market would take care of itself.

For the incoming regulator, the meeting was a wake-up call. “That underscored to me how absolutist Alan was in his opposition to any regulation,” Born says.

Over the next three years, Born would learn firsthand the potency of those absolutist views, confronting Greenspan and other powerful figures in the capital over how to regulate Wall Street.

More recently, as an­­alysts sort out the origins of what has be­come the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, Born has emerged as a sort of modern-day Cassandra. Some people believe the debacle could have been averted or muted had Greenspan and others followed her advice.

Chairing the CFTC, Born advocated reining in the huge and growing market for financial derivatives. De­rivatives get their name because the value is derived from fluctuations in, for example, interest rates or foreign exchange. They started out as ways for big cor­porations and banks to manage their risk across a range of investments. One type of derivative known as a credit-default swap has been a key contributor to the economy’s recent unraveling.

The swaps were sold as a kind of insurance—the insured paid a “premium” as protection in case the cred­itor defaulted on the loan, and the insurer agreed to cover the losses in exchange for that premium. The credit-default swap market—estimated at more than $45 trillion—helped fuel the mortgage boom, allowing lenders to spread their risk further and further, thus generating more and more loans. But because the swaps are not regulated, no one ensured that the parties were able to pay what they promised. When housing prices crashed, the loans also went south, and the massive debt obligations in the derivatives contracts wiped out banks unable to cover them.


Brooksley Born, pictured in 1964 with senior editors
and classmates, was the first woman at Stanford
to become president of the law review.
Photo courtesy of Brooksley E. Born

Back in the 1990s, however, Born’s proposal stirred an almost visceral response from other regulators in the Clinton administration, as well as members of Congress and lobbyists. The economy was sailing along, and the growth of deriv­atives was con­sidered a sign of American innovation and a symbol of the virtues of deregulation. The instruments were also a growing cash cow for the Wall Street firms that peddled them to eager takers.

Ultimately, Greenspan and the other regulators foiled Born’s efforts, and Congress took the extraordinary step of enacting legislation that prohibited her agency from taking any action. Born left government and returned to her private law practice in Washington.

“History already has shown that Greenspan was wrong about virtually everything, and Brooksley was right,” says Frank Partnoy, a former Wall Street investment banker who is now a professor at the University of San Diego law school. “I think she has been entirely vindicated. … If there is one person we should have listened to, it was Brooksley.”

Speaking out for the first time, Born says she takes no pleasure from the turn of events. She says she was just doing her job based on the evidence in front of her. Looking back, she laments what she says was the outsize influence of Wall Street lobbyists on the process and the refusal of her fellow regulators, especially Greenspan, to discuss even modest reforms.

“Recognizing the dangers … was not rocket science, but it was contrary to the conventional wisdom and certainly contrary to the economic interests of Wall Street at the moment,” she says.

“I certainly am not pleased with the results,” she adds. “I think the market grew so enormously, with so little oversight and regulation, that it made the financial crisis much deeper and more pervasive than it otherwise would have been.”

Greenspan, who retired from the Fed in 2006, acknowledged in congressional testimony last October that the financial crisis, which he described as a “once-in-a-century credit tsunami,” had exposed a flaw in his market-based ideology.

Alan Greenspan, Robert Rubin,
Lawrence Summers, Arthur Levitt
Photos, clockwise: Claudio Vargas/APF/Getty
Images, Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images,
Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images, Tim Sloan/APF/
Getty Images

He says Born’s characterization of the lunch conversation she recounted does not accurately describe his position on addressing fraud. “This alleged conversation is wholly at variance with my decades-long-held view,” he says, citing an excerpt from his 2007 book, The Age of Turbulence, in which he wrote that more government involvement was needed to root out fraud. Born stands by her story.

Robert Rubin, who was Treasury secretary when Born headed the CFTC, has said that he supported closer scrutiny of financial derivatives but did not believe it politically feasible at the time.

A third regulator opposing Born, Arthur Levitt, who was chairman of the Securities and Exchange Com­mis­sion, says he also now wishes more had been done. “I think it is fair to say that regulators should have considered the implications … of the exploding derivatives market,” Levitt says.

In a way, the battle had the look and feel of a classic Washington turf war.

The CFTC was created in the 1970s to regulate agricultural commodities markets. By the ’90s, its main business had become overseeing financial products such as stock index futures and currency options, but some in Washington thought it should stick to pork bellies and soybeans. Born’s push for regulation posed a threat to the authority of more established cops on the beat.

“She certainly was not in their league in terms of prominence and stature,” says a lawyer who has known Born for years and requested anonymity to avoid appearing critical of her. “They probably thought: ‘Here is a little person from one of these agencies trying to assertively expand her jurisdiction.’ ”

Brooksley Born
Photo by Erika Larsen

Some of the other regulators have said they had problems with Born’s personal style and found her hard to work with. “I thought it was counterproductive. If you want to move forward … you engage with parties in a constructive way,” Rubin told the Washington Post. “My recollection was … this was done in a more strident way.” Levitt says Born was “characterized as being abrasive.”

Her supporters, while acknowledging that Born can be uncompromising when she believes she is right, say those are excuses of people who simply did not want to hear what she had to say.

“She was serious, professional, and she held her ground against those who were not sympathetic to her position,” says Michael Greenberger, a law professor at the University of Maryland who was a top aide to Born at the CFTC. “I don’t think that the failure to be ‘charming’ should be translated into a depiction of stridency.”

Others find a whiff of sexism in the pushback. “The messenger wore a skirt,” says Marna Tucker, a senior partner at Feldesman Tucker Leifer Fidell in D.C. and a longtime friend of Born’s. “Could Alan Greenspan take that?”

Greenspan dismisses the notion that he had problems with Born because she is a woman. He points out that when he took a leave from his consulting firm in the 1970s to accept a job in the Ford administration, he placed an all-female executive team in charge.


It was not the first time that Born, 68, had pushed back against convention.

Her doggedness over a career spanning more than 40 years propelled her into the halls of power in Wash­ing­ton. She was a top commercial lawyer at a major firm, as well as a towering figure in the area of women’s rights and a role model for female lawyers. Born was on President Bill Clinton’s short list for attorney general.

One of seven women in the class of 1964 at Stanford Law School, she graduated at the top of her class and was elected president of the law review, the first woman to hold either distinction. She is credited with being the first woman to edit a major American law review.

In the early 1970s, at a time when women had few role models at major law firms, she became a partner at the Washington firm of Arnold & Porter, despite working part time while raising her children.

Born helped establish some of the first public-interest firms in the country focused on issues of gender discrim­ination. She helped rewrite American Bar Associ­ation rules that made it possible for more women and minorities to sit on the federal bench, and she prodded the ABA into taking stands against private clubs that discriminated against women or blacks.

She was used to people trying to push her around, or being perceived as a potential troublemaker. Born remembers being shouted down during an ABA meeting in the 1970s when she proposed that the organization take a position supporting equal rights for gay and lesbian workers. A former ABA president stood up and said “that the subject was so unsavory that it should not be discussed … and was not germane to the purposes of the ABA,” she recalls. She lost that fight, although the association reversed its stand years later.

“She looks at things not just from a technical perspective or the perspective of an insider. She looks at the perspective of outsiders and how people without power are going to be affected,” says Esther Lardent, president and CEO of the Pro Bono Institute at Georgetown Uni­versity, who worked with Born on various ABA matters. “That is a theme constantly running through her life and career.”

“She is a very polite and low-key person, but she is never somebody who steps back from a disagreement or a fight if it is a matter of importance to her,” Lardent adds. “Did that make people uncomfortable? Did that make the men who dominated the leadership fail to take her seriously enough? I am sure that was the case.”


Clinton named her to head the CFTC in 1996. she was not without experience: At Arnold & Porter she had represented the London futures exchange in rule-making and other matters before the commodities agency.

Born also knew how markets could be manipulated, having represented a major Swiss bank in litigation stem­ming from an attempt by the Hunt family of Dallas to corner the silver market in the 1980s.

“Brooksley had the advantage of knowing the law and understanding the fragility of the system if it weren’t regulated,” says Greenberger, her former ad­viser at the CFTC. “She could see that the data points, by lack of regulation, were heading the country into a serious set of calamities—each calamity worse than the one before.”

Under a Republican predecessor, the CFTC had in 1993 largely exempted from regulation more exotic derivatives that involved just two parties. The thinking was that sophisticated entities negotiating individually tailored derivatives could look out for themselves. More generic de­rivatives still had to be traded on exchanges, which were subject to regulation.

By 1997, the over-the-counter derivatives market had more than doubled in size—by one measure reaching an estimated $28 trillion, based on the value of the instruments underlying the contracts. (It has now reached an estimated $600 trillion.)

And some cracks were already surfacing in the landscape. Several customers of Bankers Trust, including Procter & Gamble, sued for fraud and racketeering in connection with several OTC derivatives deals. Orange County, Calif., had gone bankrupt in part because of an OTC derivatives-trading scheme gone awry.

What’s more, all the growth had taken place at a time of economic prosperity. Some people were beginning to ask what would happen if the market suffered a major reversal.

“The exposures were very, very big and if it was your job to worry about things that could go wrong, and I think it was, this is one of the things you couldn’t help but notice,” says Daniel Waldman, a partner at Arnold & Porter who was the CFTC general counsel under Born. “It was only your blind faith in the partic­ipants that could give you much comfort because you really did not know much about the real risks.”

“There was no transparency of these markets at all. No market oversight. No regulator knew what was happening,” Born says. “There was no reporting to anybody.”

She chose what she thought was a middle ground, circulating a draft “concept release” to regulators and trade associations, which was intended to gather information about how the markets operated. She and her staff suspected the industry was trying to exploit the earlier regulatory exemption.

But even the modest proposal got a vituperative response. The dozen or so large banks that wrote most of the OTC derivatives contracts saw the move as a threat to a major profit center. Greenspan and his deregulation-minded brain trust saw no need to upset the status quo. The sheer act of contemplating regulation, they maintained, would cause widespread chaos in markets around the world.

“We would go to conferences and it would be vi­ciously attacked,” Waldman says. “They would just be stomping their feet and pounding the tables.” With Born unlikely to change her mind, the industry focused on working through the other regulators.

Born recalls taking a phone call from Lawrence Summers, then Rubin’s top deputy at the Treasury Department, who complained about the proposal and mentioned that he was taking heat from industry lobbyists. She was not dissuaded. “Of course, we were an independent regulatory agency,” she says.


The debate came to a head April 21, 1998. during a Treasury Department meeting of a presidential working group that included Born and the other top regulators, Greenspan and Rubin took turns attempting to change her mind. Rubin took the lead, she recalls.

“I was told by the secretary of the Treasury that the CFTC had no jurisdiction and, for that reason and that reason alone, we should not go forward,” Born says. “I told him … that I had never heard anyone assert that we didn’t have statutory jurisdiction … and I would be happy to see the legal analysis he was basing his position on.”

She says she was never supplied one. “They didn’t have one because it was not a legitimate legal position,” Born says.

Greenspan followed. “He maintained that merely inquiring about the field would drive important and expanding and creative financial business offshore,” she says. CFTC economists later checked for any signs of that and came up with no evidence, Born says.

“It seemed totally inexplicable to me,” Born says of the seeming disinterest her counterparts showed in how the markets were operating. “It was as though the other financial regulators were saying, ‘We don’t want to know.’ ”

She formally launched the proposal on May 7, and within hours, Greenspan, Rubin and Levitt issued a joint statement condemning Born and the CFTC, expressing “grave concern about this action and its possible consequences.” They announced a plan to ask for legislation to stop the CFTC in its tracks.

At congressional hearings that summer, Greenspan and others warned of dire consequences; Born and the CFTC were cast as loose cannons.

Reverting to a theme Born claims he raised at their earlier lunch, Greenspan testified there was no need for government oversight because the derivatives market involved Wall Street “professionals” who could patrol themselves.

Summers, Rubin’s deputy (and now director of the National Economic Council), said the memo had “cast the shadow of regulatory uncertainty over an otherwise thriving market, raising risks for the stability and competitiveness of American derivative trading.”

Born assailed the legislation, calling it an unprecedented move to undermine the independence of a federal agency. In eerily prescient testimony, she warned of potentially disastrous and widespread consequences for the public. “Losses resulting from misuse of OTC derivatives instruments or from sales practice abuses in the OTC derivatives market can affect many Ameri­cans,” she testified that July. “Many of us have interests in the corporations, mutual funds, pension funds, insurance companies, municipalities and other entities trading in these instruments.”

That September, seemingly bolstering her case, the Federal Reserve Bank of New York was forced to organize a rescue of a large private investment firm, Long-Term Capital Management, which was a big player in the OTC derivatives market. Fed officials said they acted to avoid a meltdown that could have affected the wider economy.

But the tide of opinion that had risen up against Born was irreversible. Language was slipped into an agriculture appropriations bill barring the CFTC from taking action in the six months left in her term.

“I felt as though that, at least, relieved me and the commission of any public responsibility for what was happening,” she says. Clinton aides sounded her out about a second term, but she said she wasn’t interested and left the agency in June 1999.

A year later, Congress enacted the Commodity Futures Modernization Act, which effectively gutted the ability of the CFTC to regulate OTC derivatives. With no other agency picking up the slack, the market grew, unchecked.

Some observers say now that the episode and infighting showed how, even a decade ago, a patchwork system of regulating Wall Street was badly in need of reform.

“The fact that the … issue created such a threat to the marketplace to me confirmed the fact that something was not right,” says Richard A. Miller, vice president and corporate counsel for Prudential Insurance Company of America and editor of the widely read Futures and Derivatives Law Reporter.

“How could we have a system that hangs together by such a narrow thread?” Miller asks. He testified at the time that the idea Born proffered should at least have been considered.

The Obama administration has pledged an overhaul of the financial system, including the way derivatives are regulated. Worrisome to some observers is the fact that his economic team includes some former Treasury officials who were lined up in opposition to Born a decade ago.

Born, who retired from her law firm in 2003, is not playing a formal role in the process. An outdoor en­thusiast, she traveled to Antarctica last winter, as the Obama team was settling in. “The important thing,” she advises, “is that the new administration should not be listening to just one point of view.”


In "The Born Prophecy," May, Brooksley Born was incorrectly described as the first female to head a major law review. Though one of the first women to hold such a position, she was not the first.

The ABA Journal regrets the error.

Richard B. Schmitt, a former Justice Department correspondent for the Los Angeles Times, is a freelance writer based in Washington, D.C. A longer version of this article appeared in the March/April 2009 edition of Stanford magazine. Reprinted with permission of the Stanford Alumni Association.

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