A new book by Joseph C. Goulden called The Money Lawyers contains a very interesting and insightful chapter that examines the history and exploits of Bill Lerach, Mel Weiss and the now-divided Milberg Weiss Bershad Hynes & Lerach law firm. This chapter of the book entitled "Lerach and Weiss: The Class Action Scourges of the West and East," focuses primarily on Lerach, and is based on Goulden's personal interviews with Lerach and many other individuals (the book also scrutinizes David Boies, Tommy Boggs, the lawyers involved in the breast implant litigation, and several other "Money Lawyers"). I finished reading this chapter last night, and feel like I learned a lot about Lerach and Weiss, both flattering and unflattering.
Thanks to Mr. Goulden, Securities Litigation Watch will over the coming weeks be posting excerpts of the Lerach/Weiss chapter of The Money Lawyers, starting today. To kick things off, here is the opening salvo of this chapter:
Lerach and Weiss: The Class Action Scourges of the West and East
William S. Lerach and Melvyn Weiss
Milberg Weiss Bershad Hynes & Lerach
San Diego and New York City
by Joseph C. Goulden
My letter to William S. Lerach was candid. I wrote that I had read many nasty things about him in the press, and, especially in publications whose constituency is the high-tech companies of the Silicon Valley -- firms which had surrendered billions of dollars to him and his firm in class action securities suits over the years. I cited one particularly unkind item, a headline in Electrosphere that called him a "Bloodsucking Scumbag." That was just the headline; the text got worse. In any event, surely there must be another side of the story. Could we talk?
One meets "the most hated man in the Silicon Valley" -- another trade publication's depiction -- by riding an elevator to the 18th floor of the One America Plaza Building in downtown San Diego, hard by the harbor. Yachts and powerboats bob at anchor, backdropped by a view that seemingly stretches most of the way to Asia. The electric railroad terminal is a block distant, and the clang of car bells drifts up from the street. The visitors' room at Milberg, Weiss, Bershad, Hynes & Lerach is separated from the reception area by an L-shaped tank containing dozens of garishly bright tropical fish that flash through the water.
Seeing the fish reminded me of what a defense lawyer snarled as he left the Milberg Weiss offices one evening after name-calling negotiations: "It would be a hell of a lot more appropriate if Lerach would get rid of those cute little pets and fill the tank with piranha. Or sharks."
Enter Lerach, at the hurried pace I have learned to associate with busy lawyers, his pumping arms seemingly trying to coax more speed from his feet. He was dressed...well, let me say it this way: Lerach was dressed unlike any big city trial lawyer I have encountered on a working day, a study in casual white, from cotton shirt to cotton slacks, the monochrome broken only by the brown of his Topsiders. I asked later whether this is "dress down Friday." Lerach seemed puzzled, then he laughed. "No, no," he says, "remember, this is San Diego!" The Washington patent lawyer Bernard Meany had chuckled earlier when he told me of his first visit to Milberg Weiss as an expert witness. The receptionist, a "rather buxom woman, who stood about 38 across the top," was wearing a skimpy halter.
Lerach is a stocky fellow in his mid-fifties, his hair (also well on the way to being white) swept up in what seems an Afro slightly modified by a barber from the styling school who developed former President Clinton's distinctive tonsorial style. I had been warned to expect a man of temper, one who loses control of his tongue when talking about opposing attorneys and the high-tech executives they represent.
Stories of the temper are legion. An unfriendly adversary told me he once heard Lerach tell corporate executives during negotiations, "I don't give a f*** if I put your company into bankruptcy. I'm going to take away your beach house and your condo in Aspen by the time I'm finished with you." When he talks about high tech executives, he tosses around vitriol such as "scumbags" and "crime in the suites." He can be combative when dealing with other lawyers. One remembers hearing Lerach storm, "Your professional life is at an end. I am going to destroy you."
But he chose to open our talk with a grin. "So," he said, "some of those guys are saying nasty things about me, eh?"
Indeed they were, for Lerach and his firm are specialists in a type of class action lawsuit that bedeviled officers and directors of publicly held companies for more than twenty years. Lerach's reasoning is simple. If he feels that companies deceived investors with misleading statements, and insiders dump their stock before the truth emerges and the price drops, he sues them. More than a thousand times, Milberg Weiss lawyers have marched into state and Federal court and accused executives of chicanery. And often they have marched out again with settlements or verdicts including contingency fees totaling in the billion-dollar range over the years, leaving corporate bosses seething in their wake. Since the firm's founding 35 years ago, it claims to have been "responsible for more than $30 billion in aggregate recoveries." Profits for the firm twice topped $100 million a year during the 1990s.
Milberg Weiss handles more than half of all private securities litigation cases filed in the United States each year. The year 2000 was not untypical. Of the 204 shareholder class actions filed that year, 149, or 73 percent, came from Milberg Weiss, according to statistics kept by Woodruff-Sawyer & Company, an insurance broker specializing in liability policies for corporate directors and officers. In the five years ending in 2000, according to Lerach's accounting, he and his team gained almost $12 billion in court judgments and settlements. Most are the latter; only about five percent of Milberg Weiss cases actually go to a jury trial. (According to the Federal Judicial Center, roughly the same percentage of all Federal civil cases is decided by a jury.)
Lerach considers himself a private regulatory policeman, doing the job that the Securities and Exchange Commission cannot or will not do. He speaks scornfully of the lackadaisical attitude the SEC has taken towards securities cheats since the Reagan Administration, and continuing during the reign of President Bill Clinton -- a man he considered to be a friend, and for whom he raised hundreds of thousands of dollars from fellow trial lawyers.*
* Reflecting after I spoke with Lerach, I realized perhaps why he continued his friendship with Clinton even while deriding his attitude towards a vigorous SEC. If the SEC did its job as Lerach says it should, he and colleagues could suffer a near-terminal blow to their pocketbooks.