Electronic trade documents: a bit more detail

At last. A couple of days ago the King signed the Electronic Trade Documents Act 2023, with the result that from 20 September we modernise and join jurisdictions such as Singapore and New York, in giving at least some computerised trade documents equivalent status to paper versions. Yesterday we gave you the heads-up: today we go into some details.

The new Act is in many ways an object lesson in how to legislate for commercial law. It is brief and to the point: aside from incidental powers to pass regulations and other boring stuff, it consists of just four sections. This is good regulation showing (to mix metaphors) both a broad brush and a light touch.

1. The Act and bills of lading

The main import of the new Act concerns bills of lading. The problems of paper bills are well-known. They are increasingly easy to forge. The need to present them in order to get goods, and the carrier’s equal and opposite duty not to release goods to someone who cannot present them, create headaches for carriers, banks and others which in practice cost big money. Also troublesome is the fact that, just as by the laws of physics nothing can move more rapidly than light, by the limitations of business no physical bill of lading can travel faster than DHL. This means that by the time a bill of lading has passed through the hands of a number of cargo owners and banks, it not infrequently arrives at the discharge port considerably after the ship carrying the cargo it relates to.

The statutory solution produced by the Act is neat. Section 2, summarised, provides that a computerised document can stand in for a paper one provided a reliable system is used aimed at ensuring that it can be identified, protected from unauthorised alteration or copying, and is susceptible to control by a single person to the exclusion of others, such that that power of control can be passed to another person who obtains a similar power. (See ss.2(2), 2(3).) The foundations thus laid, s.3 then states baldly (i) that an electronic document satisfying these criteria has the same effect as a written one (s.3(2)); (ii) that such a document can be possessed, endorsed and delivered (s.3(1)); and (iii) that anything done in relation to it has the same effect as the equivalent action as regards a paper document (s.3(3)).

You might say, why is this important? After all, two functions of the bill of lading are that of a contract of carriage and a receipt, and there has never been any difficulty about the enforceability of computerised contracts, or about the efficacy of electronic receipts. The answer is that it does matter, for three reasons.

First, we now know that once the Act is in force ss.2 and 3 of the Carriage of Goods by Sea Act 1992 will be effective to transfer contractual rights and duties under e-bills (which they probably were not before, the power under s.1(5) to extend them to such instruments having languished unexercised by governments with other, doubtless weightier, matters on their plate).

Secondly, there may have been some lingering uncertainty about whether the shipowner’s duty to hand over cargo only to a bill of lading holder, and his protection from liability to a true owner if in good faith he did so, necessarily applied to holders of e-bills. In commerce, such dubiety can be fatal to the adoption of new ways of doing things. The Act now puts this issue beyond doubt. This means that many of the reservations previously entertained by carriers and P&I interests about using e-bills outside closed contractual schemes such as BOLERO and essDocs can now be put aside.

Thirdly, the security provided by e-bills to banks is now greatly strengthened. At common law, it should be remembered, a valid pledge over goods requires a transfer of possession to the pledgee; and while there has never been any doubt that delivery of a paper bill of lading to a financier will suffice for this purpose, it was never very clear whether the same applied to an e-bill. It is now confirmed that it does. As a result, banks can rest assured that as a matter of English law possession of an e-bill gives them a full possessory security, and not some less satisfactory alternative such as a mere equitable charge.

Fourth, there is an intensely practical point. While e-bills will not eliminate the problem of slow transit of bills of lading (bureaucrats working for traders and banks in certain countries can be just as slow handling documents on a screen as they are when shuffling paper), they certainly reduce it. The possibility of transmission over cyberspace rather than by van or cargo plane may greatly reduce the incidence of documents arising after the cargo they represent. (Memo: perhaps this is the time to mull selling your shares in DHL and the banks that currently make large sums issuing bank guarantees allowing delivery to non-bill-of-lading-holders.)

No doubt, as a result of all this, we will see in the near future a flurry of announcements from P&I Clubs – who as the bodies that have to pick up the tab when things go wrong hold the whip hand here, in practice if not in law – that at least in principle they are prepared for their clients to operate with e-bills. We will await these with interest.

2. The Act and other documents relating to good

The Act does not only apply to bills of lading: it alaso applies to ship’s delivery orders, warehouse receipts, mate’s receipts, marine insurance policies, and cargo insurance certificates. Indeed this list is not exhaustive: on principle the statute affects any commercial document used in connection with trade or finance, provided its possession is “required as a matter of law or commercial custom, usage or practice for a person to claim performance of an obligation.”

On first sight, one might wonder why the list of documents was as wide as this. The difficulties with e-bills largely stemmed fromquestions about whether the bill of lading’s function as a document of title extended beyond paper instruments. But none of therse extra documents was ever a document of title anyway: so why bother?

The answer here is varied. With mate’s receipts it is difficult to see that the Act changes anything much. Save very exceptionally these are not only not documents of title, but entirely untransferable instruments relevant largely as evidence of the state and quantity of goods loaded: whether they are embodied on paper or in computer code seems beside the point.

With ship’s delivery orders and warehouse receipts there are two issues of possible significance. First, ship’s delivery orders are covered under the Carriage of Goods by Sea Act 1992, and are often as a matter of practice if not strict law presented to obtain goods: it is thus reassuring to have confirmation that they work as well in electronic form as they do on paper. Secondly, both ship’s delivery orders and warehouse receipts in paper form are regarded as documents of title within ss.24, 25 and 47 of the Sale of Goods Act 1979 such that their delivery can in certain cases of goods in transit or storage defeat the rules of nemo dat and a seller’s lien or right of stoppage. Again, it is reassuring to know that from September on electronic versions will equall;y fir this particular bill.

The extension of the operation of the Act to insurance policies and insurance certificates also looks odd. But it may be worth noting for two purposes. First, s.22 of the Marine Insurance Act 1906 still theoretically requires a contract of marine insurance to be embodied in a “policy;” a term that some, especially international traders not over-familiar with the detailed workings of English law, might think required a paper policy. True, this section is almost entirely a dead letter in practice: but it remains helpful to have an assurance that an e-policy will now indubitably fit the bill. Secondly, documentary sales, especially on a cif basis, very frequently require the provision by the seller of an insurance policy or certificate; althgough this matter can of course in theory be dealt with by specific agreement, there is something to be said for a default rule that a seller under such a contract will satisfy his obligations by providing an e-policy or e-certificate.

3. Other documents

Although the main thrust of the Act concerns carriage and related documents, note that it also applies to bills of exchange and promissory notes. This is a more specialised area, which we do not go into detail about here. Suffice it to say that the burgeoning finance trade, in particular the forfaiting industry, finds it more convenient to deal with electronic than paper negotiable instruments, and that for this reason it very successfully promoted the idea of creating a regime receptive to e-bills of exchange and e-promissory-notes.

4. The future.

Excellent marks to the Law Commission: this is a workmanlike and well-drafted Act, which will solve most of the difficulties over e-documents. Most: but not all. One big shadow hangs over the whole thing, however: conflict of laws, something crucial in transnational trade. Two issues arise in this connection.

First, does the Act apply to claims under bills of lading not governed by English (or Scots or Northern Irish) law? We do not know; but the likely result is that it does not. If parties choose to incorporate a Ruritanian choice-of-law clause, and Ruritanian law does not recognise the validity of bills in other than paper form, it would be to say the least presumptuous for an English court to hold that in English litigation the Act applies willy-nilly, and the betting must be that it would not do so. Similarly if an e-bill is governed by the law of, say, Singapore, which does recognise e-bills, then it would still seem to make sense that claims should be governed not by the 2023 Act, but rather by the Singapore Bills of Lading Act 1992 as amended to incorporate the UNCITRAL Model Law on Electronic Transferable Records in so far as this yields a different result.

Second, while English law will clearly govern contractual claims arising out of e-bills with an English choice-of-law clause (i.e. the majority of claims in practice), what of non-contractual matters such as title conflicts? Imagine an e-bill governed by English law is indorsed to a bank in Utopia which has issued (or confirmed) a letter of credit on behalf of a now-bankrupt buyer B, and the law of Utopia does not recognise that the bank has a valid security. Unless we say that because an e-bill of lading is a disembodied pattern of electrons rather than anything touchable its situs is deemed to be that of the jurisdiction by whose law it is governed, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that the law of Utopia as the lex situs applies to questions of proprietary interests in it. If so, then were litigation to arise in England between the bank and the creditors of B, a court or arbitrator might well be driven to hold that the bank’s security was ineffective despite s.3(3) of the 2023 Act.

On this we will have to wait. But there is at least some relief round the corner: the Law Commission is now hard at work on precisely these questions, and we are promised a consultation paper later this year. Meanwhile, you have two months to bone up on the existing proposals and be ready for at least something of an Big E-bang in September.

One more move: Decentralised Autonomous Organisations (DAOs)

Over the last couple of years, the Law Commission for England and Wales has successfully launched several law reform projects related to digital assets, smart contracts, and electronic trade documents. With the UK’s target of becoming a tech leader, yesterday, on 16 November 2022, the Commission published a public call for evidence to be delivered by stakeholders on the characterisation and legal regulation of decentralised autonomous organisations (DAOs) – emerging organisational entities.

A DAO, a concept first developed in 2016, is a legal structure without any central governing body that enables the members with a common target to manage the entire entity on the basis of blockchain technology, smart contracts, software systems, and the Ethereum network. As automated and decentralised bodies functioning without human intervention, DAOs serve for transparency and efficiency. Indeed, the use of DAOs is dramatically expanding in today’s financial markets, banking, and corporate governance. With this increasing significance and progressive application amidst to inevitable practical uncertainties and ambiguities, it is getting a more crucial task than ever to seriously ponder upon their operation under the existing legal systems. That is the precise target of the Government asking the Commission to investigate what exactly constitutes a DAO and what are encompassed by their structure.

The Commission has drafted the following questions encouraging everybody with relevant expertise to respond, but not necessarily to all of them:

  • “When would a DAO choose to include an incorporated entity into its structure?
  • What is the status of a DAO’s investors / token-holders?
  • What kind of liability do or should developers of open-source code have (if any)?
  • How does / should the distinction between an incorporated company (or other legal form or incorporated entity) involved in software development and an open-source smart contract-based software protocol operate as a matter of law?
  • How do DAOs structure their governance and decision-making processes?
  • How do money laundering, corporate reporting and other regulatory concepts apply to DAOs, and who is liable for taxes if the DAO makes a profit?
  • Which jurisdictions are currently attractive for DAOs and why?”

The Law Commission aims at reaching a final report which will define the relevant issues under the existing laws of England and Wales as well as determine the potential for further legal reforms.

The call for evidence will last for 10 weeks from 16 November 2022 with the closing date of 25 January 2023. Further details of the project are available at Decentralised Autonomous Organisations (DAOs) | Law Commission.

Moral: if in doubt, get your own bank account

A straightforward tort case from the Privy Council a week ago, with an equally straightforward message for financial operators, was reported today: Royal Bank of Scotland International Ltd v JP SPC 4 [2022] UKPC 18.

In 2009 Cayman Islands operators JPSPC4 (JP for short) set up an investment fund to make specialised loans to UK lawyers. It employed as “loan originator / manager” a Manx company known as SIOM, owned by two gentlemen called Timothy Schools and David Kennedy. SIOM had a Manx account with the RBS in Douglas. Simplified, the scheme was that loan funds would be fed to SIOM’s account, to be held on trust for JP; SIOM would then disburse them to borrowers and receive repayments on JPSPC4’s behalf. Unfortunately the plan was a disaster. Of something over £110 million transferred to SIOM, the majority allegedly ended up in the hands of Messrs Schools and Kennedy (both of whom are currently on trial for fraud).

JP went into liquidation in 2012. In the present proceedings it sued RBS in Douglas for negligence, alleging that it had known SIOM held the funds on trust, and had missed obvious signs that withdrawals from its account amounted to a breach of that trust. RBS applied for a strike-out. The Manx courts granted it, and JP appealed.

The Privy Council had no hesitation in dismissing the appeal, and rightly so. As it pointed out, the holder of the account at RBS was not JP but SIOM; and while a bank might owe its customer a Quincecare duty (see Barclays Bank plc v Quincecare [1992] 4 All ER 363), there was no respectable indication that any such duty extended to third parties, and certainly not to trust beneficiaries. Furthermore, it made the obvious point that the liability of third parties for assisting in a breach of trust (which was essentially what was alleged against RBS) was under Royal Brunei Airlines Sdn Bhd v Tan [1995] 2 AC 378 based on proof of dishonesty, which was not alleged here; incautious suggestions to the contrary from Peter Gibson J in Baden v Société Générale [1983] 1 WLR 509, 610-611 were specifically said to be heterodox. There being no other plausible reason to accept a liability in tort here, it followed that the claim had been rightly struck out.

Two comments are in order.

First, financial services companies should now be advised to get their own bank accounts rather than operate through the accounts of nominees. Had JP disbursed funds from an account in its name, perhaps having given drawing rights to SIOM, none of these problems would have arisen.

Secondly, JP could have got a remedy in the present case. There is no doubt that SIOM would have had standing to bring a Quincecare claim against the bank (see Singularis Holdings Ltd v Daiwa Capital Markets Europe Ltd [2019] UKSC 50; [2020] AC 1189), and that JP could have claimed against it for breach of trust, put it into liquidation and got the liquidators to pursue RBS. Why it didn’t we don’t know; it may simply be that it viewed such a proceeding as unduly cumbersome and expensive. If so, it seems to have made a pretty costly mistake. Such are the risks of litigation.

When will a court say “Don’t draw down that bond …” ?

How easy should it be to stop a beneficiary claiming on a performance bond or standby letter of credit? Two cases reported this week (though one was actually decided about ten weeks ago) lead to slightly divergent results.

The first case, decided on Thursday under the name ETC Export Trading v AplasImporter [2020] EWHC 3229 (QB), revolved around what one might diplomatically call a somewhat rum demand under a performance bond. Under a contract containing an English law and London arbitration clause, Swiss sellers agreed to sell $21 million-odd worth of wheat to Aplas, an Ethiopian importer, to be paid for by letter of credit, with (as usual) no duty in the seller to perform unless and until the credit had been opened. In addition the seller was required to open a 10% performance bond in favour of Aplas, Aplas expressly agreeing not to invoke or claim under the bond unless the seller was in breach.

The seller duly instructed its bank, BNP, to open the performance bond. For reasons unexplained, this was done rather indirectly: an outfit called Berhan opened the actual bond, receiving a counterguarantee from Commerzbank, which in turn received another counterguarantee from BNP.

As it happened the deal went off because Aplas never opened the necessary credit. Shortly later, however, Berhan made a demand on Commerzbank, alleging a demand against it by Aplas, though Aplas was to say the least evasive when asked whether it had actually made any such request. ETC was obviously concerned that it would lose something over $2 million, with little hope of recovery, if the demand was paid by Commerzbank and passed back to BNP. It sought an injunction against Aplas on the basis that Aplas would be in breach of contract were the bond to be called. The relevant order sought was an order to Aplas not itself to call in the bond, and to prevail upon Berhan not to take any steps to claim in its name against Commerzbank. ETC also sought an order against Berhan preventing it from making a claim.

ETC succeeded. Having rightly bulldozered away a rather tentative argument that the arbitration clause prevented the court intervening, Pepperall J decided that even if there was not a clear demonstration of fraud, there was a good arguable claim that Aplas would be in breach its obligation were a call to be made. In addition he injuncted Berhan from calling on Commerzbank, since in his view there was a good arguable case that there was no entitlement to payment under the original bond.

His Lordship was clearly right to accept that intervention was possible even where there was no clear case of fraud. Although generally speaking it is not a breach of contract to call on a bond where nothing is in fact owing, provided you do so in good faith (see eg Costain International v Davy McKee (London) Ltd, unrep., CA, 26.11.1990), an express obligation only to call it in when entitled to payment is on a different footing: see Sirius International Insurance v FAI General Insurance [2003] 1 WLR 2214 and more recently Simon Carves v Ensus UK [2011] EWHC 657 (TCC); [2011] B.L.R. 340. Slightly more interesting is the basis of the claim against Berhan, which was not in contractual privity with ETC. Although it is clearly a good idea for the court to be able to injunct unjustified calls on bonds right down the line of promises and counterguarantees, it is not entirely clear what the foundation of this right could be. Perhaps one should draw a discreet veil over that aspect of the case, but remind lawyers that there remains room for serious argument here.

More problematic, however, and certainly more significant, was Pepperall J’s use of words like “good arguable claim” as the standard for court intervention. This is problematical, in that the traditional standard for injuncting the beneficiary, as much as the provider, of a bond is the test sometimes called the “enhanced merits” test. Under that test, the claimant must proffer clear evidence plus strong corroboration. Otherwise, the reasoning goes, we lose the benefit of regarding the bond as effectively a cash substitute in the hands of the beneficiary.

Admittedly on the facts of ETC itself the distinction between the two tests probably didn’t matter, since it is difficuIt to avoid concluding that the drawdown was indeed clearly prohibited under the contract. But the point is an important one, and a different answer is suggested by Foxton J in the second case, decided last September, Salam Air v Latam Airlines [2020] EWHC 2414 (Comm).

Salam involved a claim on a standby letter of credit, similar in many ways to a performance bond, given to back rental payments under a dry aircraft lease. The lessee was an Omani airline in dire straits following COVID, that was desperate to escape the contract. (It even went so far as a quixotic, if hopeless, plea that the whole arrangement was frustrated by the effective closure of Omani skies to virtually all but cargo planes). The claim by the lessee was made against the lessor to prevent it operating the standby credit.

Foxton J was having none of it, and dismissed the application. This was unsurprising. On the facts the rentals remained owing, and even if they did not there was no express promise not to invoke the credit. It followed that the doctrine of autonomy applied as of course.

His Lordship did go on to say, however, that in his view all claims to prevent payment under letter- of-credit-type instruments, be they letters of credit proper, bonds or standby credits, were on principle subject to the “enhanced merits” test. Furthermore, this applied whether they were brought against the credit institution giving the bond or the beneficiary wishing to claim on it, and whether the basis of the claim was fraud or breach of an express undertaking not to claim under the instrument. (Although unable entirely to escape the Court of Appeal outlier in Themehelp v West [1996] QB 84 which might suggest the contrary, he essentially said it ought to be limited to almost identical facts). In other words, the beneficiary’s right to have the instrument treated as cash in his hands trumped any arguments based on breach of contract.

Which leaves us with the question: where there is an alleged express undertaking not to draw on an instrument, should we be talking “good arguable claim” or “enhanced merits”? The view of this blog is the latter. Absent a clear demonstration of a reason for unenforceability, such bonds should remain as good as cash in the bank, and subject to the doctrine of “pay now, argue later”. If businessmen don’t like that, then they shouldn’t agree to give bonds, or if they do they should provide for them to be operable only against some document that independently verifies the counterparty’s claim.

Most shareholders hold no shares — official. But it doesn’t matter.

Relief all round in the Square Mile today, courtesy of Hildyard J in SL Claimants v Tesco Plc [2019] EWHC 2858 (Ch).

Something over two years ago Tesco was fined a whopping £129 million for publishing misleading profit figures which bent the market in its shares. A number of institutions, market makers and others who had relied on these figures sued Tesco under s.90A and Sch.10A of FSMA 2000, saying they had bought or retained its shares on the basis of the figures. At this point, however, Tesco raised a classic pettifogger’s point (to be fair, one previously raised by, among others, Profs Gullifer and Benjamin).

To qualify for compensation under FSMA you have by Sch.10A to have bought, disposed of or retained “any interest in securities”. Tesco said two things. First, they argued that where shares were dematerialised and the custody chain included more than one layer of custodianship, no ultimate beneficiary investor ever held an interest in any securities so as to trigger liability under FSMA. If shares were vested (legally) in A who held them on trust for B who held them for investor X, X had an interest in B’s interest in the shares, but no interest in the shares themselves. Secondly, Tesco contended that intermediated securities were fungible; that when they were dealt with the whole transaction was effectuated by a combination of electronic credit and debit book entries and netting arrangements between custodians; and therefore that one could simply not talk in the old-fashioned way about shares being acquired or disposed of by anyone. True, they admitted, their plea would leave the relevant parts of FSMA largely like Cinderella — all dressed up with nowhere to go — and largely emasculate the whole UK scheme of investor protection as regards dematerialised securities (meaning these days almost all securities); but, in effect, that was tough. Fiat justitia ruat coelum, as they might have put it.

Hildyard J was having none of it. He accepted that where there were two or more custodians in a securities daisy-chain the ultimate investor technically had an interest in his immediate custodian’s interest, and not in the actual shares in which the custodian had an interest. But he rejected the idea that juridico-metaphysical niceties of this sort affected FSMA. “Any interest”, he said, could and should be interpreted as including any proprietary interest in shares or interests in shares. True it was, too, that technically a transfer of shares these days involved no transfer of anything at all, but rather a stream of electrons signifying juridical suppression of one equitable claim in X and its co-ordinated supersession by another in Y. But this did not prevent concepts like disposal being given their popular, rather than their technical equity lawyers’, meaning.

So the big claim against Tesco goes ahead. Relief, one suspects, not only in the City but in government. Had the result gone the other way there would have been a need for urgent corrective legislation. And in these fraught times we know just how hard it can be to get that kind of thing through.

No absolute immunity for international organisations before US courts.

 

The International Finance Corporation (IFC) makes loans to private businesses to finance projects in developing countries. In 2008, it lent $450 million to finance a coal-fired power plant in India. Local residents complained of harm suffered as a result of pollution from the plant and sued the IFC before a federal court in Washington, D.C., where it is headquartered, claiming, inter alia, that the the IFC had violated provisions of the loan agreement that were included to protect the local community. The International Organizations Immunities Act 1945 gives international organizations “the same immunity from suit” as “as is enjoyed by foreign governments.”

At the time foreign governments enjoyed virtually absolute immunity and the IFC claimed immunity from suit. Since then s1605(2)(a) of the Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act 1976, s1605(2)(a) U.S.C., has lifted the immunity of foreign governments in respect of suits based on their commercial activities, but the Act made no reference to the immunity of international organisations. In Jam et al v International Finance Corporation 586 U.S _ (2019) the US Supreme Court held on 27 Feb, Justice Breyer dissenting, that the immunity of international organisations is co-equivalent with that of foreign governments and the IFC is not absolutely immune from suit. The case was remanded for further hearing consistent with this opinion.

However under s.1605(2)(a) there are three alternative conditions for the lifting of immunity: (i) the action arises out of commercial activity in the US, or (ii) the action arises out of an act in the US in connection with commercial activity elsewhere, or (iii) the action arises out of an act outside the US in connection with commercial activity elsewhere  and the act causes a direct effect in the US. In many cases against international organisations based in the US these criteria will not be satisfied and this may prove to be the case with the further hearings in the instant case.

Money in the bank is not a trust fund — OK?

It is hornbook banking law, and has been ever since 1848 (see Foley v Hill (1848) 2 HLC 28), that those lucky enough to have a credit balance with their bank have the benefit of a debt owed by the latter: nothing more, nothing less, and certainly no trust or other equitable interest in any funds in the institution. Any lingering doubts on the matter were dispelled by Space Investments v CIBC (Bahamas) Ltd [1986] 3 All E.R. 75.

Or so we thought, until Barling J put the cat among the pigeons in late 2017. The Court of Appeal has now, much to everyone’s relief, reversed his decision and restored orthodoxy in First City Monument Bank plc v Zumax Nigeria Ltd [2019] EWCA Civ 294.

Cut away the intricacies of murky Nigerian financial transactions, and the background was this. Zumax, a Nigerian company servicing the oil industry in the shape of Shell and Chevron, banked in Nigeria with IMB. Like many Nigerian organisations, when it received dollar payments it ensured they were made offshore: here, into an account with Chase in the name of an Isle of Man nominee, Redsear. If and when monies were needed in Nigeria, Redsear would then transfer them into IMB’s account with Commerzbank; IMB in turn would credit Zumax in naira.

Between 2000 and 2002 several million dollars were transferred from the Redsear account to IMB, but allegedly never reached Zumax. Allegations of fraud were made against the person who organised these transfers, who had connections with both Redsear and IMB. Zumax alleged that in so far as these sums had reached IMB (whose obligations First City Monument had taken over), they had been held on trust for Zumax. We are not told in terms why Zumax did not simply sue to have its account credited, but this may have been due to the fact that Zumax was alleged to owe large sums of money to IMB under a previous facility, or some other reason connected with dubious dealings by IMB.

Barling J held that because the monies had been transferred to IMB via its Commerzbank account specifically for the benefit of Zumax, IMB had not been free to deal with them as its own, and there was in the circumstances no reason why a trust should not be inferred. The Court of Appeal saw this off in short order. It was of course possible for a bank to receive money as a trustee for its customer: but it was unlikely. The fact that monies were transferred to a bank for the benefit of the account of X was entirely consistent with a duty to credit the account and not to hold the monies on trust, and this applied as much to a transfer through a correspondent bank (i.e. Commerzbank) as to a direct transfer. The normal inference, indeed, was that a bank in such a case held the monies at its free disposal. For good measure there had been no mention of any need to segregate the monies — normally an important feature of a trust. (The court might have added that in so far as a “Quistclose trust” was alleged, it would still not get Zumax home, since the normal inference in such trusts is that unless and until put to its intended use the money is held not for the payee but for the payer — here Redsear).

Relief all round, one suspects, for the banking community. Banking law is complex enough without being regularly made more difficult by the use of trusts; this decision will make it that much more difficult for lawyers further to muddy turbid waters by lengthy pleadings alleging fiduciary duties, trust relationships and the like. In the view of this blog, this is quite right too.

International insolvency — English law rights confirmed protected

Shortly after New Year 2018, Hildyard J decided that when an Azeri bank went bust and was put into reconstruction in Baku, the Azeri administrator could not use the Cross-Border Insolvency Regulation to freeze out a couple of creditors in England and Russia whose bond debts were governed by English law. They had refused to have anything to do with the reconstruction, smugly sat back and waited for the reconstruction to finish, knowing that the bank still had English assets that could potentially be seized. (See our blogpost here).

The Court of Appeal has now agreed, in Bakhshiyeva (Foreign Representative of the Ojsc International Bank of Azerbaijan) v Sberbank of Russia & Ors [2018] EWCA Civ 2802 (18 December 2018) . It might or might not be a good idea for England to adopt modified universalism in insolvency and accept, in essence, that the law of a corporation’s home jurisdiction should be controlling in all questions of the enforceability of obligations against it, wherever situated and whatever the law governing them. Indeed, it does just this in EU insolvencies, courtesy of the EUInsolvency Regulation 2015. But established common law authority said that an English court would ignore laws cancelling debts that did not emanate from the state whose law governed them. Further, the CBIR was best read as legislation with procedural, not substantive, aims. It would suspend enforcement of obligations while the reconstruction was going ahead, but would not actually destroy them. Any attempt to use a foreign reconstruction for anything more than that would not be countenanced.

Whether this is the last word we will see. There may be an appeal to the Supremes: the two creditors clearly have the money, and quite a lot rides on the result. However, the view of this blog, for what it is worth, is that this is a delicate matter best left to careful legislative reform, if indeed reform is needed at all. And that’s a bigger if than it looks. Money-men aren’t popular these days, but there is something to be said for the position of the two creditors. No-one has to issue English-law bonds, nor to leave assets in England that can be seized to support the obligations contained in them. And, one strongly suspects, the interest rate on the English-law debt was lower than on Azeri-law debt precisely because of the perceived lower solvency risk. The ability to take the benefit of this and then tell foreign creditors to go fish isn’t, perhaps, something we should be promoting.

Ship arrest: no undertaking in damages exigible from arresting party

The Court of Appeal declined yesterday to upset the ship arrest apple-cart. In The Alkyon [2018] EWCA Civ 2760 it upheld the decision of the Admiralty Judge, Teare J, noted here on this blog, that a bank could hold an arrest over a mortgaged ship without having to give any undertaking to pay damages for loss of use should it turn out that its claim was ill-founded. The owners of the MV Alkyon, a 36,000 dwt bulker, had argued that there was no default justifying her arrest in Newcastle; that they could not afford to bail her; that her immobilisation by arrest would cause them big losses; and that it was only fair that if the bank was indeed wrong, it should carry the can for those losses.

Despite the fact that there is theoretically no restriction on the court’s discretion to release an arrested vessel (see CPR 61.8(4)(b)), Teare J disagreed; and the Court of Appeal agreed with him. Although there was much in common between ship arrest and freezing orders, where an undertaking in damages was emphatically the rule, for the court to demand such an undertaking in arrest cases would  cut across the idea that arrest was available as of right, and also the established principle that liability for wrongful arrest could not be imposed unless the claimant proved bad faith or possibly gross negligence. This was not something for the judiciary — barring possibly the Supreme Court — to do.

In the view of this blog, the Court of Appeal was quite right not to draw the analogy with freezing orders. For one thing not all arresters are plutocratic banks: think crewmen seeking wages or damages for injury on board, or for that matter suppliers of canned food and water for those crewmen to eat and drink. For another, the right to arrest is there for a purpose, namely to assure people that they will be paid by the owners of peripatetic pieces of maritime machinery: to allow a threat to arrest to be met with a threat to claim damages would not further this end. For a third, damages for arrest may well bear no proportion to the amount of the claim: the losses caused by the arrest of a large bulker or reefer would be likely to dwarf a straightforward $100,000 bunkers debt. And lastly, it’s all very well saying a single arrester ought to carry the can for immobilisation losses: but what if cautions against release then pile on? Which of the undeserving claimants should have to pay how much? Nice work for lawyers, maybe: less good news for shipping claimants who want to get on with their commercial lives.

Atlantik (misplaced) Confidence — the saga continues.

Last year we dealt here with Teare J’s meticulous decision in Aspen Underwriting Ltd & Ors v Kairos Shipping Ltd [2017] EWHC 1904 (Comm), in which following the Atlantik Confidence debacle, hull underwriters, having previously paid out on the orders of her owners’ (Dutch) bank under an insurance assignment provision, now sued the bank to recover their money on the basis that the ship had been deliberately scuttled. The issue was whether the bank could insist on being sued in the Netherlands on the basis of Art.4 of Brussels I Recast. The decision was that most claims, including those based on unjust enrichment, had to be brought in the Netherlands. Howver, claims based on tortious misrepresentation and under the Misrepresentation Act 1967 could be brought here. The fact that such claims related to insurance under Art.14 was no bar, since there was no question of a large Dutch bank being a weaker party who, according to Recital 18 to the Regulation, needed to be protected from the machinations of big bad insurers.

The Court of Appeal has dismissed an appeal (seeAspen Underwriting Ltd & Ors v Credit Europe Bank NV [2018] EWCA Civ 2590). On most points it simply said that the Judge had got it absolutely right. The only exception was that it was not open to a judge, consitently with Euro-law, to take the sensible view and decline to apply Art.14 to anyone he thouht was not in fact a weaker party. But this did not matter, since in Kabeg v Mutuelles Du Mans Assurances (Case C-340/16) [2017] I.L. Pr. 31 the ECJ Advocate-General had since Teare J’s judgment accepted that Art.14 could be disapplied to a subrogee “regularly involved in the commercial or otherwise professional settlement of insurance-related claims who voluntarily assumed the realisation of the claim as party of its commercial or otherwise professional activity”. This was near enough to the position of the bank here to justify ignoring Art.14.

Some good news, in other words, for marine underwriters trying to get their money back from those acting for crooks.  On the other had, the moral we advanced in our previous article still stands: all policies in future ought to contain a term, rigorously enforced, stating that no monies will be paid out save against a signed receipt specifically submitting to the exclusive jurisdiction of the English courts in respect of any subsequent dispute respecting the payment or the policy generally.