The Sorry Side Of Sears
BY JOHN MCCORMICK ON 2/21/99 AT 7:00 PM EST
IT'S NOT EASY TO DIGEST A DISASTER at 8:30 a.m. on a Sunday.
Sitting with his top executives at a conference table in Chicago on
a spring morning in 1997, Arthur C. Martinez was in shock. His
lawyers used overhead slides to explain how employees at Sears,
Roebuck and Co.--the once moribund company he'd worked so hard to
revive--had secretly violated federal law for a decade. Their
actions, which had been exposed by a bankruptcy judge in Boston,
were about to erupt in a nationwide scandal. Already the U.S.
Justice Department was weighing not just civil penalties, but
criminal prosecution. Worse, this wasn't a rogue operation, or an
honest misinterpretation of the law: Sears appeared to have been
violating the rights of some credit-card holders systematically and
intentionally. The company, the lawyers were suggesting, may even
have put the illegal practice in its procedures manual. How could
such wrongdoing have gotten started, and how could it have gone
unchecked for years? Martinez wanted to know. ""Not one phone call
about this? Ever?'' he demanded. It was, says one participant in
the meeting, ""a sickening moment.''
There would be many more sickening moments as Sears scrambled
to contain the legal, financial and public-relations fallout from
its lapse. Last week, after a 22-month FBI investigation, a Sears
subsidiary agreed to plead guilty to a criminal charge of
bankruptcy fraud--and to pay the government a stunning $60 million,
the largest such fine in U.S. history. A federal judge still must
approve the plea bargain. NEWSWEEK'S lengthy investigation of the
scandal reveals the inside story of the turmoil at Sears during
those intervening months. It shows how Sears struggled, first to
assess the scope of its problem, and ultimately to understand what
in its management structure, executive style or corporate culture
had led it to commit the most serious ethical breach in its
history.
It all began with what's known around federal bankruptcy court
in Boston as the letter that cost Sears a half-billion dollars.
Scrawling on a yellow legal pad in November 1996, a disabled
security guard named Francis Latanowich begged to reopen his
bankruptcy case. Although Judge Carol Kenner had wiped out his
debts, Latanowich had agreed to repay Sears the $1,161 he owed for
a TV, a car battery and other goods. But the monthly payment, he
wrote, ""is keeping food off the table for my kids.''
Sears, it turned out, had mailed Latanowich an offer. In
return for $28 a month on his account, it wouldn't repossess the
goods he'd bought with a Sears charge card before he went bankrupt.
Urging debtors to sign such deals, called reaffirmations, is legal,
and roughly a third of bankrupts do so. But many judges view them
as sucker deals that keep people from getting a fresh start. And
every signed reaffirmation must be filed with the court so a judge
can review whether the debtor can handle the new payment. Sears
hadn't filed this one. Kenner wanted to know why.
At a Jan. 29, 1997, hearing, a Boston attorney working for
Sears served up a convoluted technical excuse for not filing.
Kenner's response: ""Baloney.'' There were hints from prior cases
that Sears, both praised and feared nationwide as the most
aggressive pursuer of reaffirmations, wasn't filing many of them
with the court. If true, the company was using unenforceable
agreements to collect debts that legally no longer existed. Kenner
pushed for a list of such cases. Sears's response, delivered
reluctantly in mid-March by a credit manager, was a shocker: since
1995 Sears apparently had ignored the law 2,733 times in
Massachusetts alone.
It wasn't hard to conjure up a likely motive. With
bankruptcies nationwide skyrocketing from 780,000 in 1994 to 1.3
million last year, many companies are awash in bad debts. Getting
debtors to sign reaffs is a way to reclaim some of the losses. And
not filing them keeps nosy judges from nixing many of those side
deals. ""The worst thing about what Sears has done is that they're
kicking the little guy when he's down--2,733 times,'' Kenner
steamed. ""Frankly, I think their actions have been predatory.
They've shown a wholesale disregard for the Bankruptcy Code, and
sanctions will be stiff.''
The scandal couldn't have hit Sears at a more inopportune
time. Martinez, an outgoing Brooklyn native who'd come to Sears
from Saks Fifth Avenue in 1992, had rescued the huge retailer from
years of drift. He'd killed off the old Sears catalog, cut 50,000
employees and promoted ""the softer side of Sears'' with a push
into high-profit apparel lines. The ink was barely dry on a
Barron's profile that approvingly discussed how Sears also cut
losses by pursuing bad debts. Fortune was headed to press with a
similar piece about the resurgence at Sears, where profits were
rising 20 percent a year.
Word of a livid judge in Boston reached Michael Levin, then
head of Sears's law department, on March 27. Like Martinez and
other top execs at Prairie Stone, the company's glassy headquarters
outside Chicago, Levin says he'd known nothing about Sears's
misconduct; he had joined just 15 months earlier. But he quickly
discovered that the company had been breaking the law in federal
bankruptcy courts across the United States. Eventually Sears would
determine it had improperly collected $110 million from 187,000
consumers. Early on Martinez asked Levin if Sears had ever pleaded
guilty to a crime. The answer was no. ""I said to myself, "The
company's 111 years old, and I'm the guy in the chair when we plead
guilty to a criminal offense','' Martinez says.
""Wonderful.''
At 4:15 p.m. on April 9, a cryptic e-mail message flashed onto
screens at Prairie Stone. It summoned Sears's top 200
executives--the so-called Phoenix Team--to an urgent meeting at 8
the next morning. As Martinez explained Sears's serious breach of
law, says one attendee, ""Arthur was not angry, but very sad.'' The
costs, he said, were incalculable. ""We've rebuilt our customers'
trust and confidence in this company brick by brick,'' he said,
""and now all of that has been bulldozed.''
It was a devastating moment for the Phoenix Team. ""I was
watching the veterans, the people who've been through so much,''
says one executive. ""There was no movement, no expression, no
shuffling of feet. They were heartbroken.'' As the meeting ended,
Martinez told every executive to spend the next half hour at his or
her desk. Do nothing, he said, but think about your own operation.
""Not just to identify additional exposure,'' he says, ""but to
fundamentally rethink--Is what I do, the direction I give, the body
language I use, creating an environment where something like this
could happen? Is my message, "Make the numbers at any
cost'?''
Martinez has asked himself the same question. Sears had
suffered a black eye before he arrived, when auto-repair employees
in California were caught hiking their own commissions by selling
customers products they didn't need. Martinez is proud of the
ethics office and other integrity initiatives he launched after he
joined Sears. ""We tried to set a tone at the top,'' he says. But
in the early 1990s Martinez also oversaw the extension of credit
cards to 17 million new customers. That's about 5 million more than
Sears might routinely have added. Credit by itself is big business:
last year the company earned 50 percent of its operating income
from credit, including charge cards held by more than half of all
U.S. households. The problem, Martinez admits, is that too many of
those new cardholders barely qualified. So, in its zeal to attract
new business, Sears became a lender to its riskiest customers. As
the number of bankruptcies nationwide mushroomed, so did the number
of unpaid accounts at Sears: by 1997 more than one third of all
personal bankruptcies in the United States included Sears as a
creditor.
Any company that dependent on income from its credit cards
must aggressively pursue bad debts, and Sears isn't the only
retailer to have crossed the line. Bankruptcy experts estimate that
creditors historically haven't filed perhaps one third of all
reaffirmations that bankrupt Americans sign. Since the Sears case
broke, Federated Department Stores (which owns Macy's and
Bloomingdale's), May (Filene's), G.E. Capital (Montgomery Ward) and
Discover card have settled with debtors. But Martinez saw the
scandal as more disturbing than a credit tactic run amok. Several
weeks after the crisis erupted he probed for deeper cultural flaws
during a Saturday retreat with his Phoenix Team. ""Maybe all the
bullshit that's being written about how we've changed values and
culture is just that,'' he told his executives. ""What allowed this
thing to go unnoticed, untouched and unreported for so long?''
Talking in small groups, the managers agreed that Sears's
transformation from an exhausted, defeatist bureaucracy into an
aggressive, can-do company had an unanticipated consequence: they
hated to send bad news back up to the top. That's a common
pathology. Managers aren't trained to expose problems, says James
Schrager, a business ethicist at the University of Chicago.
""They're trained to make their goals or heads will roll.'' CEOs
can't control every employee's actions, Schrager says. They can,
however, emphasize that workers may lose their jobs for failing to
report violations--but never for telling management the
truth.
Still, Sears's problem wasn't just culture. It was policy. To
investigate the roots of its misconduct, Sears hired law firms in
Chicago, New York, Detroit and Boston to interview 400 people
inside and outside the company. Based on that probe, Martinez and
Levin have given NEWSWEEK an explanation never aired in public or
in court. They say the problem traces to a Sears lawyer working in
a field office in 1985. Sears will not identify the lawyer. ""This
fellow had gone to a seminar on bankruptcy,'' Levin says. ""Out of
that, this idea was triggered. I don't believe the lawyer thought
there was a criminal act involved.'' The practice of not filing all
reaffs was later rolled out nationwide.
The next obvious question is why nobody at Sears ever stopped
such a serious breach of law. Levin has told NEWSWEEK there were
clues: at least one outside law firm had told someone at Sears that
the company's policy was questionable. But word of that
alert--which might have triggered a broader inquiry at Sears--never
worked its way up through the company. ""There should have been a
review,'' Levin says. ""Somebody in the law department should have
stood up and said, "This is the wrong thing to do'.'' Martinez
thinks he knows why nobody blew the whistle. ""I'm sure our people
would say, "These goddamn deadbeats; they took the merchandise and
they didn't pay for it, and they filed for bankruptcy. I'm going to
find a way to protect my company.' That's wrongheaded, but it's an
accurate reflection of the culture.'' Another discovery was even
more disturbing: Sears's own procedures manual--actually, a
database available to every computer user--was part of the problem.
""As a reader, you'd conclude that there are some
circumstances--which you can't define with precision--when
[reaffirmations] wouldn't be filed,'' Levin says.
The damaging discovery inside its own procedures manual helped
cement Sears's resolve: get this over quickly, pay restitution in
full, avoid years of litigation and bad press. Those who attended
the first crisis meetings say Martinez insisted from the very
beginning that Sears come clean. ""We had to admit to failure here
and commit to repaying people the money we'd inappropriately
collected,'' he says. ""We said to ourselves, "We can't go into
court and defend any of our practices'.'' At Levin's suggestion,
Sears made a startling admission: that its own ""flawed legal
judgment'' was to blame for the misconduct.
With Kenner watching closely, Sears began a hunt for every
case of wrongdoing back through 1992. (Before that records were
fuzzy.) The raw numbers were daunting. In the prior five years
510,000 Americans had signed reaffirmations pledging to pay Sears
debts that totaled $412 million. But figuring out which agreements
hadn't been submitted to judges was a massive project. Reaff data
retrievable by computer went back only eight months. Digging for
clues, 60 computer and audit specialists searched records of 110
million Sears credit accounts. More workers scoured files in
federal courts and Sears credit offices nationwide. So many
documents flowed into a windowless workroom at Prairie Stone that
one worried auditor performed weight calculations to see if the
floor would collapse.
The search cost $14 million, but Sears's eagerness to find and
repay the people it had wronged won high marks from Justice and
other combatants in the case. ""Usually we have two years of
knock-down, drag-out before we get down to business,'' says John
Roddy, a Boston attorney for the debtors. ""This is the only case
I've ever filed where I didn't get a pure stonewall response.'' A
few of those affected stepped forward to identify themselves.
Several dozen people wrote the company to say they didn't deserve
refunds, and planned to keep paying off their debts. One man called
to say that he'd declared bankruptcy twice, under the names Jeff
and Geoff; he wanted to make sure he got both refunds. Another man
called on his mobile phone while cruising past Prairie Stone on
Interstate 90. Would it be possible, he asked, to drop by and pick
up a refund?
When the last lawyer's bill arrives, the scandal will have
cost Sears close to $475 million. Almost $300 million has gone to
the wronged debtors, both as refunds (plus interest) of about $1.40
for every $1 Sears improperly collected, and as forgiveness of
remaining debt for whatever items they'd purchased. The balance:
the pending federal fine, a separate penalty paid to the 50 states
and the cost of settling a lawsuit brought by a group of
shareholders who claimed that the scandal had hurt the price of
their stock. Sources outside Sears say six managers have been
forced out of their jobs. (Levin also has departed for unrelated
reasons.)
Last week's plea bargain--which Sears swallowed in order to
avoid a criminal trial--should let the company dispose of the
scandal for good. Martinez says he's pleased that ""the end is
clearly in sight.'' He's got other things to worry about. His
turnaround has lost some momentum, and Sears stock is languishing
near its 52-week low. Martinez is now launching his ""Second
Revolution,'' a plan to re-energize the company with, among other
things, new merchandise and more store remodelings. Pressing as
those challenges are, it's a relief for Martinez--and everyone else
at Prairie Stone--to get back to business.
PROFIT--AND LOSS Sears makes much of its profits from credit
cards. It pushed hard to expand that business, and ended up with
less credit-worthy customers.
63 million households have Sears credit cards. In the last 12
months, 32 million of those accounts were active.
More than one third of all personal bankruptcies in 1997
included Sears as a creditor who hadn't been paid.
QUESTION:
1. Give a synopsis of this case and describe/explain why this
is an ethical issue
2. What are some of the legal and ethical issues involved?
Explain why the conduct in the case could be right or wrong
3. What are the implications for Managers and the
Businesses?