Smart Contracts… or Dumb Software

The role of smart contracts in blockchain technology is creating an emerging area of jurisprudence which largely overlaps with computer programming. However, one of the first comments I heard about smart contracts when I started working in the blockchain and crypto industry was that they are “neither smart, nor legal”. What does this paradox mean in practice?

First, smart contracts are not “smart”, because they still largely rely on human coders. While self-replicating and self-executing software programs exist, a smart contact contains human-defined parameters or conditions that will trigger the performance of the contract terms once those conditions have been met. The simplest example might be coded as a type of  “if this, then that” function. For example, I could create a smart contract so that every time the temperature drops below 15 degrees, the heating comes on in my house, provided that there is sufficient credit in the digital wallet connected to my utilities billing account.

Second, smart contracts are not “legal”, unless they comprise the necessary elements that form a legally binding agreement: intent, offer, acceptance, consideration, capacity, certainty and legality. They must be capable of being enforceable in the event that one party defaults, but they must not be contrary to public policy, and parties must not have been placed under any form of duress to enter into a contract. Furthermore, there must be an agreed governing law, especially if the parties are in different jurisdictions, and the parties must agree to be subject to a legal venue capable of enforcing or adjudicating the contract in the event of a breach or dispute.

Some legal contacts still need to be in a prescribed form, or in hard copy with a wet signature. A few may need to be under seal or attract stamp duty. Most consumer contracts (and many commercial contracts) are governed by rules relating to unfair contract terms and unconscionable conduct. But assuming a smart contract is capable of being created, notarised and executed entirely on the blockchain, what other legal principles may need to be considered when it comes to capacity and enforcement?

We are all familiar with the process of clicking “Agree” buttons every time we sign up for a social media account, download software or subscribe to digital content. Let’s assume that even with a “free” social media account, there is consideration (i.e., there’s something in it for the consumer in return for providing some personal details), and both parties have the capacity (e.g., they are old enough) and the intent to enter into a contract, the agreement is usually no more than a non-transferable and non-exclusive license granted to the consumer. The license may be revoked at any time, and may even attract penalties in the event of a breach by the end user. There is rarely a transfer of title or ownership to the consumer (if anything, social media platforms effectively acquire the rights to the users’ content), and there is nothing to say that the license will continue into perpetuity. But think how many of these on-line agreements we enter into each day, every time we log into a service or run a piece of software. Soon, those “Agree” buttons could represent individual smart contracts.

When we interact with on-line content, we are generally dealing with a recognised brand or service provider, which represents a known legal entity (a company or corporation). In turn, that entity is capable of entering into a contract, and is also capable of suing/being sued. Legal entities still need to be directed by natural persons (humans) in the form of owners, directors, officers, employees, authorised agents and appointed representatives, who act and perform tasks on behalf of the entity. Where a service provider comprises a highly centralised entity, identifying the responsible party is relatively easy, even if it may require a detailed company search in the case of complex ownership structures and subsidiaries. So what would be the outcome if you entered into a contract with what you thought was an actual person or real company, but it turned out to be an autonmous bot or an instance of disembodied AI – who or what is the counter-party to be held liable in the event something goes awry?

Until DAOs (Decentralised Autonomous Organisations) are given formal legal recognition (including the ability to be sued), it is a grey area as to who may or may not be responsible for the actions of a DAO-based project, and which may be the counter-party to a smart contract. More importantly, who will be responsible for the consequences of the DAO’s actions, once the project is in the community and functioning according to its decentralised rules of self-governance? Some jurisdictions are already drafting laws that will recognise certain DAOs as formal legal entities, which could take the form of a limited liability partnership model or perhaps a particular type of special purpose vehicle. Establishing authority, responsibility and liability will focus on the DAO governance structure: who controls the consensus mechanism, and how do they exercise that control? Is voting to amend the DAO constitution based on proof of stake?

Despite these emerging uncertainties, and the limitations inherent in smart contracts, it’s clear that these programs, where code is increasingly the law, will govern more and more areas of our lives. I see huge potential for smart contracts to be deployed in long-dated agreements such as life insurance policies, home mortgages, pension plans, trusts, wills and estates. These types of legal documents should be capable of evolving dynamically (and programmatically) as our personal circumstances, financial needs and living arrangements also change over time. Hopefully, these smart contracts will also bring greater certainty, clarity and efficiency in the drafting, performance, execution and modification of their terms and conditions.

Next week: Free speech up for sale

 

Making Creeping Assumptions

Even if the recent Board of Inquiry into Victorian Hotel Quarantine Program does not reveal who actually made the now fatal decision to engage private security companies, it will have at least added a new phrase to the lexicon of public discourse – the notion of “creeping assumptions”.

To recap, based on the evidence presented during the public hearings, we have been led to believe that no single person, department or government agency made the all-important decision. Instead, we are left to conclude that this was a decision made by default, based on a series of “creeping assumptions”.

What this suggests is that rather than a conscious or affirmative decision, the parties relied on their own interpretation of unfolding events and information flows to conclude that someone else had made the call to outsource hotel security, and as a consequence everyone involved simply went along with it. As I have pointed out before, the decision to engage private contractors is not the issue. But it does beggar belief that even if nobody could recall who made the decision, they could not point to the information that informed their assumptions, nor could they specify who instructed the drawing up of the commercial contracts. As a result, the Victorian Government has spent $6m to find out who signed off on $30m of expenditure.

Anyway, one of the consequences of these so-called creeping assumptions is that the decision-making was deeply flawed because it lacked process, scrutiny and accountability:

  • Process was clearly missing (unless the Inquiry finds otherwise), because of the absence of documented minutes or formal note-taking.
  • There was no scrutiny of the “decision”, to confirm the various dependencies and delegated authorities that initiated the contracts issued to private contractors.
  • And the fact that no-one can be identified as being responsible for the decision, could mean that no-one can be held accountable.

If nothing else, this will become a case study for students of politics, public administration, and corporate governance.

Next week: Bread & Circuses

Responsibility vs Accountability

One of the issues to have emerged from the response to the current coronavirus pandemic is the notion that “responsibility” is quite distinct from “accountability”.

In the Australian political arena, this is being played out in two specific aspects, both of which reveal some weaknesses in the Federal and State delineation. The first is the Ruby Princess, the passenger cruise ship that appears to have been a significant source of Covid19 infections from returning and in-bound travellers. In this case, blame or liability for the breach in quarantine measures is being kicked around between Border Force (Federal), and NSW Health (State): who was responsible and/or accountable for allowing infected passengers to disembark?

The second arises from the number of Covid19 cases among aged care residents in the Melbourne Metropolitan area. Here, the issue is the governance of aged care facilities as between privately-run homes (Federal oversight), and public homes (State operation). As an example of the strange delineation between Federal and State, “…the Victorian government mandates minimum nurse-to-resident ratios of up to one nurse for every seven residents during the day, the Commonwealth laws only call for an “adequate” number of “appropriately skilled” staff – both terms are undefined.”

As with all key areas of public policy and administration (health, education, social services), the relationship between different government departments and administrative bodies can be confusing and complex. In very broad terms, public funding comes from the Commonwealth (via direct Federal taxes and the redistribution of GST back to the States), since States have limited options to raise direct revenue (land taxes, stamp duty, payroll tax, and fees from licenses and permits). The Commonwealth funding can be allocated direct, or co-mingled with/co-dependent upon State funding. Likewise, service delivery can be direct by the Commonwealth, jointly with the States, or purely at the State (or even Local) level.

Within Victoria, there is an added dimension to the “responsibility” vs “accountability” debate, largely triggered by apparent failures in the oversight of the hotel quarantine programme. This in turn led to the second wave of Covid19 infections via community transmission (and the tragic number of deaths among aged care residents). The Premier has said he wasn’t responsible for the decision to use private firms to operate the security arrangements at the relevant hotels. In fact, the Premier appears not to have known (or wasn’t aware) who made that decision (or how/why it was made). But he does admit to being accountable for it.

Meanwhile, his departmental ministers have similarly denied knowing who made the decision, or they have said that it was a “multi-agency” response – maybe they are trying to shield each other in a strange show of cabinet collective responsibility, and to avoid apportioning direct blame to their colleagues. But if the government didn’t know who was supposed to be running the hotel quarantine programme, then surely the private security firms certainly couldn’t have known either – if so, who was paying them, and from whom did they take their orders and direction?

We are being drip-fed information on the failures in the hotel quarantine programme: did the AMA “write a letter” to the Victoria Department of Health & Human Services about their concerns over the hotel quarantine programme? did the DHHS provide “inappropriate advice” on the use of PPE by hotel security staff? did the Victorian Premier actually propose the hotel quarantine programme at National Cabinet, and then omit to request support from the police and/or the ADF?

It’s not surprising, therfore, that confusion reigns over who was responsible, and who is accountable; more importantly, who will be liable? What would be the situation if, for example, front line medical staff or employees in “high risk settings” have died from Covid19 as a result of community transmission within their workplace (itself stemming from the hotel breakout), and where there were inadequate workplace protections, especially if the latter were based on government advice and supervision?

The new offence of criminal manslaughter applies in Victoria since July 1, 2020. It will only apply to deaths caused since that date and as a result of “negligent conduct by an employer or other duty holders … or an officer of an organisation, which breaches certain duties under the Occupational Health and Safety Act 2004 (OHS Act) and causes the death of another person who was owed the duty”.

Finally, in reading around this topic, I came across an academic paper which discusses the treatment of responsibility, accountability and liability in the context of professional healthcare. In trying to define each from a clinical, professional and legal perspective, the author concluded that:

“….[R]esponsibility means to be responsible for ensuring that something is carried out whilst accountability moves beyond this to encompass the responsibility but adds a requirement that the healthcare professional provides an account of how they undertook the particular task. Liability moves the definition forward by adding a dimension of jeopardy to the definition of accountability. In a strict legal sense once the accountable person has provide their account they have fulfilled their duty. However, if the healthcare professional is liable rather than accountable for their action then the account they provide will be judged and, if found to be wanting, there may be a penalty for the healthcare professional.” (emphasis added)

I wonder if we should be assessing political and administrative liability by the same standard?

Next week: Startupbootcamp Demo Day – Sports & EventTech

 

 

Life After the Royal Commission – Be Careful What You Wish For….

In the wake of the recommendations from the Royal Commission into Misconduct in the Financial Services Industry (aka the Hayne Report), one of the four major banks announced that it would be removing bonus payments for its front line tellers. This was supposedly in line with Hayne’s proposal that performance-linked remuneration, financial incentives and sales commissions in the financial services industry need to be restructured.

Image sourced from Small Caps

This prompted a mixed reaction among the public, based on some of the comments I have read on social media. Some felt that the tellers were being made scapegoats for the banks’ bigger failings – others felt that this was an inevitable outcome from the banking backlash.

Personally, I believe the announcement is potentially just one of the many likely “unforeseen consequences” to come out of the Royal Commission – I’m not saying this particular decision is good or bad, just that we need to be aware of what’s likely to happen based on Hayne’s key recommendations. Be careful what you wish for. And, as an underlying theme to this whole debate, let’s not forget that most Australians are shareholders (directly or indirectly via their Super) of the Four Pillar Banks (one of the greatest government-endorsed and legislatively protected market oligopolies around which also helped steer us through the GFC relatively unscathed….).

So, what else might we see?

First, as with financial advice, residential mortgages will move to a “buyer pays” model. Brokers would not be able to receive commissions from mortgage providers or other intermediaries based on the products they sell, recommend or refer – instead, mortgage applicants will be expected to pay for the services of a broker, who will therefore be under an obligation to find the best product for their client. But removing trailing commissions and other conflicted remuneration may also mean that brokers could seek to earn additional fees from their mortgage clients by re-contacting them a year or so later (with permission, of course) to inform them of a better deal. (Even now, lenders are not explicitly obliged to let existing customers know if they have a newer product that may be better for them). Some estimates suggest that fee-for-service will add about $3,000 to the initial cost of applying for a mortgage. Whether this will also lead to more competition among mortgage providers (who will no longer have to pay broker commissions) is not clear.

Second, the increased focus on acting in the best interests of the customer may result in placing all financial planners, brokers, advisors, insurers, and banks (and their officers, agents and employees) under a fiduciary duty of care to their clients – even if they are not directly managing specific assets, selling a specific product or advising on specific services or financial strategies. In other words, advisors etc. will be deemed to have taken ALL of a client’s needs and circumstances into account. (This is largely the result of the miss-selling of financial products, and the charging of fees for “no service”, by banks and their retail wealth management arms.)

Third, the increased cost of compliance will disproportionately impact smaller financial institutions such as credit unions, member-owned banks and other mutual societies, who came through the Royal Commission pretty much unscathed. Those costs will need to be passed on, to customers and members. Of course, there has also been some political debate around the need for some sort of banking levy – which will ultimately be passed on to shareholders or customers (who are often the same people…).

Fourth, and related to the above, the separation of roles between those superannuation trustees who act as both fund trustees and as responsible entities of managed investment schemes will have a knock-on effect in terms of operating and compliance costs. Such dual-regulated entities will have to decide whether to focus on their trustee role, or appoint a separate and independent responsible entity in respect of the asset management.

Fifth, the higher compliance and regulatory obligations may deter or inhibit more competition – either from new market entrants from overseas, or from local start-ups. The recent restricted ADI model (aimed at enabling challenger or neo-bank brands) has not exactly seen a raft of applications, and off-shore banks tend to come and go in successive waves, largely driven by market conditions. If lending standards are further tightened, it may be less attractive for foreign firms to set up local operations. In fact, there have been calls to force some smaller superannuation funds to merge with larger funds, or exit altogether for reasons of scale and efficiency – potentially taking out some of the competition in that sector. And if mortgage brokers have to move to a fee-for-service model, it will likely force some providers to exit the industry, as happened with the FOFA reforms in financial planning and wealth management.

Sixth, at the level of corporate governance, boards of financial services providers will need to be mindful of their duty to act in the best interests of the company – which has traditionally meant the share holders – and the increased duty of care towards their customers, which may at times be at complete odds. Non-executive directors willing to serve on the boards of banks and insurers may also be harder to find, at a time when there is already a high concentration of directors who sit on multiple boards across Australia’s biggest companies. So, board diversity may be even harder to achieve, especially if non-executive directorships become subject to even greater formal qualification, to ensure board members have appropriate professional experience, industry knowledge and technical expertise, as well as financial competence and risk management skills.

Finally, all this is happening as we face something of a credit squeeze (thanks to increased lending standards and greater provisioning for risk-weighted assets) heightened economic uncertainty (slowing GDP growth, lower productivity, wage stagnation, falling property prices), and an upcoming General Election campaign during which the Hayne Report will be held up as a key reason for why “things have to change”. The irony being that, except in a few areas, the complaints aired and wrong-doing uncovered during the Royal Commission could have been addressed by the regulators and enforcement agencies via existing laws on financial services, prudential standards, and general consumer protection (unfair contract terms, unconscionable conduct, deceptive and misleading behaviour). Plus, the Australian Financial Complaints Authority (which combines the remit of the former Financial Ombudsman Service, the Credit and Investments Ombudsman and the Superannuation Complaints Tribunal) has a wide jurisdiction over consumer complaints relating to Credit, Finance and Loans, Insurance, Banking Deposits and Payments, Investments and Financial Advice, and Superannuation. And as with most External Dispute Resolution agencies, AFCA and its predecessors have an obligation to report on systemic issues within their industry.

Next week: Pitch X