| TAX AND ACCOUNTING/ BUDGETING |
February
2004 |
THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS
It's been nearly two years since Arthur
Andersen went under and Sarbanes-Oxley was passed. Have the
Big Four audit firms changed since then?
By John Goff
Prologue back in the early 1970s, the
accounting profession was a gentlemanly affair. Work hard, make
a decent salary, and play golf on Saturday with your clients.
Auditors were like bankers: conservative, straightforward, and
ethical to a fault. Indeed, accountants routinely topped the
lists of most-admired professionals. "I was CFO at two companies
in the '70s," recalls Robert Howell, now distinguished visiting
professor of business administration at the Tuck School of Business
at Dartmouth College. "When my accountant said, 'You ought not
do that,' that was it. Things have gone 180 degrees out of phase
since then." The shift can be traced to 1978, when the American
Institute of Certified Public Accountants (AICPA) lifted the
ban on advertising and solicitation. The end of that prohibition
triggered a land grab in the accounting industry, and a big
push into consulting services.
The
ensuing conflicts of interest culminated in a string of now-infamous
accounting scandals and the dismantling of Arthur Andersen.
Many observers believed the downfall of Andersen, the passage
of the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002 (Sarbox), and the establishment
of the Public Company Accounting Oversight Board (PCAOB) would
curb the excesses of the previous decade. The tough talk of
the PCAOB's chairman, William McDonough, only reinforced that
notion. In a press conference in October he noted that the
Big Four accountancies "have a high interest in restoring
confidence [in public-company accounting]. If they don't do
it themselves, we will do it for them. And it will be painful."
But recent events suggest McDonough will
have his work cut out for him. In June, public-interest groups,
including Common Cause and Consumers Union, charged that Ernst
& Young was advising audit clients to "rubber stamp" the purchase
of nonaudit services, a seeming violation of the spirit of
Sarbox, if not the law.
Soon after, news broke that three of the
Big Four (excluding Deloitte Touche Tohmatsu) were being sued
by a single client for allegedly padding travel expenses.
Then, in September, a former senior partner at E&Y's San Francisco
office was charged with destroying documents related to a
government investigation of a failed dot-com called NextCard.
To some industry watchers, the three incidents suggest that
the Big Four are still finding their way in a post-Sarbox
world. Barbara Roper, director of investor protection at the
Consumer Federation of America, is harsher: "I don't see a
lot of evidence that the Big Four firms have seen the light.".
Rope-a-Dope
You can't really blame the Big Four for
not owning up to any past mistakes. Any admission that previous
audits were not as rigorous as they might have been could
expose the firms to shareholder lawsuits. Publicly, the four
firms have expressed general concern over the tarnishing of
the audit profession.
PricewaterhouseCoopers vice chairman John
O'Connor concedes that he was embarrassed by the accounting
scandals of the past few years: "We asked ourselves, 'Have
we lost our nobility?'" Even before the scandals hit, the
accountancy had instituted PwC University, a five-day seminar
to help employees deal with the kinds of stresses auditors
experience.
Nevertheless, O'Connor asserts that PwC's
biggest mistake during the past few years was that it simply
lost sight of the value of its core audit service. "We had
underinvested in some of our services, including audit," he
says. Sarbox was intended, in part, to refocus audit firms
on auditing. To some extent, it has, by prohibiting auditors
from offering certain consulting services altogether and allowing
them to offer others only to nonaudit clients. In addition,
auditors are meeting more often with corporate audit committees,
which are now empowered to hire and fire the firms. That's
a definite power shift. "Audit committees are our clients
now," notes Susan Frieden, Americas vice chair of quality
and risk management at E&Y.
CFOs say engagement partners have become
more conservative in the wake of Sarbox as well. At a recent
conference at MIT's Sloan School of Management, Howard Smith,
CFO of insurer AIG, noted that the amount of time spent getting
feedback from the company's auditors has "grown tremendously"
for complicated accounting issues. At the same conference,
John Millerick, CFO of Analogic, said bluntly: "There are
no quick answers [from our auditors] anymore."
Others argue that Sarbox could have gone
further. "Sarbox was just triage," asserts Cynthia Smith,
a lecturer at Ohio State University and co-author of Inside
Arthur Andersen. "It addressed a number of obvious things."
Under Section 203 of the act, for example, firms are required
to rotate lead audit partners every five years. But critics
say legislators should have required companies to change firms
every five years (a stipulation E&Y vice chairman Beth Brooke
labels "a horrible idea").
What's more, Andersen's downfall has actually
proven to be a windfall for the remaining top-tier firms,
which picked up the disgraced firms' clients. E&Y, for one,
reported revenues of US$13.1 billion for its fiscal year 2003,
a 30 percent rise from the previous year. And PwC's aggregated
net revenue for its fiscal year 2003 was US$14.7 billion,
a jump of nearly US$1 billion.
In fact, it appears the Big Four have
managed to neatly ride out the storm of investor and congressional
criticism triggered by the Andersen scandal. "The Big Four
firms are very good at taking blows, doing the rope-a-dope,"
says Stephen Giusto, CFO at California-based consulting firm
Resources Connection and a former partner at a marquee firm.
"But there's been very little change to how they do business."
Auditors disagree, pointing to the creation
of the PCAOB as just one example of an industry in flux. "It's
a big change from self-regulation to regulation," asserts
O'Connor.
Indeed, the end of the peer-to-peer review
system has been hailed by both audit firms and their critics.
The PCAOB has also garnered praise for its decision, taken
early on, to limit the role of the AICPA in the making of
audit-industry standards. But the reality is, the Big Four
audit the financial statements of the public companies that
generate 99 percent of all revenues in the public sector.
That's not likely to change anytime soon. Officials of the
Big Four think there's plenty of competition in the sector.
"It's not unusual to have three or four major players in an
industry [that's gone through consolidation]," says O'Connor.
"It's still very competitive for clients." Adds E&Y's Brooke:
"Four firms is a workable number."
Charles Mulford has a different view.
Mulford, a professor of accounting at the Georgia Institute
of Technology, recounts the story of one large corporation
that recently decided to dump its auditor of record (a Big
Four firm). Of the remaining three top-tier firms, one already
provided the company with consulting services, knocking that
firm out of contention. In addition, Mulford says the chairman
of the company didn't like a key partner at one of the two
remaining Big Four audit houses. "The company ended up sending
out an RFP to one firm," he says.
McDonough acknowledges the scarcity of
audit choices for large corporations. "The lack of competition
is a problem," he says. "But what can be done about it?" Very
little (see "Return of the Big Eight?" below). "Four
firms is close to a big problem already," says Giusto. "Anything
less would be a complete disaster." Given that prospect, it's
doubtful the PCAOB would put any of the top-tier firms out
of commission. "If there's a shortcoming to oversight," says
Mulford, "it's that the PCAOB can't let another [big firm]
fail. If firms get to a situation where they know this, it
could be a problem." Roper thinks it's already a problem.
"At this point," she says, "the PCAOB is boxed in."
Oh Calcutta!
This is not to say the accounting oversight
board won't flex its regulatory muscle. Rather than going
after firms, however, the board will likely punish individual
partners.
There are plenty of those. On average,
the Big Four firms (which are set up as limited liability
partnerships) employ about 6,600 partners. The LLP structure,
which merits full partnership tax treatment, shields the firms'
partners from vicarious liability. Unlike a corporation, which
is hierarchical, an LLP is by nature decentralized. In some
cases, the setup can create a Wild West mentality, in which
partners at headquarters-level have relatively little control
over conduct at local offices.
While the national offices of the Big
Four firms have undoubtedly become more influential in the
past few years, the power of local partners remains strong
("they rule with an iron fist," is how one former auditor
put it). That power, some worry, could lead to future abuses.
"Many of these partners believe they're their own bosses,"
argues Dartmouth's Howell. "It's pretty hard to keep the screws
down."
It's even harder if auditors feel a greater
loyalty to the executives who hire them than to the shareholders
served by those executives. Congress's demand that corporate
audit committees take over responsibility for the auditor
relationship may change that dynamic. Moreover, national officers
at the top audit firms say they've been extremely forceful
in advising partners to back away from potentially risky situations.
Such exhortations could be having an effect, too. "Culturally,
people are more willing to [drop a client] now," says PwC's
O'Connor.
Getting the message across to all of a
firm's worldwide partners will be a feat, however. Asks Howell:
"You might be able to get a change at the top, but how do
you reach Calcutta?".
You'll Never Get Rich
Ohio State's Smith argues that there is
still concern that audit firms will remain more focused on
revenues than shareholders. A recent academic study would
seem to support that view. In a theoretical model devised
by professors at Vanderbilt University's Owen Graduate School
of Management, researchers found that audit firms are still
likely to produce inaccurate audit opinions to benefit a big
client - if auditors think they can get away with it. Says
Debra Jeter, associate professor of management at Owen and
a co-author of the research: "Our study suggests that ethics
will translate into behavior only if regulators ensure it
is linked to dollar signs."
Whether they can make a whole lot of dollars
by selling audit services ... well, that remains to be seen.
With Sarbanes-Oxley Section 404c and SAS 99 (which requires
auditors to take a more-skeptical approach in engagements),
billable hours for assurance work have gone up. And the Big
Four firms do seem intent on providing more-robust audit products,
including some forensics. But audits are still not the moneymakers
that nonaudit services are. "Audits are clearly profitable,"
asserts E&Y's Brooke. "As profitable as [our] other businesses?
Probably not."
No doubt PwC, E&Y, and KPMG have been
hurt by the sell-off of their management-consulting businesses.
In 1998, 45 percent of Big Five revenues (not profits) came
from professional management services, according to the General
Accounting Office. In 2002, that slice was closer to 10 percent.
Industry watchers say it's only a matter
of time before the top firms begin to expand their lucrative
nonaudit services. Case in point: Bruce Nolop, CFO at Pitney
Bowes in Connecticut, says PwC, the company's independent
auditor for 64 years, recently tried to sell it a Sarbox tool.
"We had concerns about whether we should use them," says Nolop.
"We came down on the side of not using our auditor."
Still, Nolop says Pitney Bowes is relying
on PwC more than ever to "help us navigate the new regulatory
environment." While that environment should raise the profile
of audit partners at the top firms, nonaudit partners still
make up a fair share of each firm's total number of partners.
Critics worry that those partners will eventually start to
dominate the culture of the top firms, exploiting fuzzy areas
to maximize profits. Says one former Big Five auditor: "Partners
tend to vote with their wallets."
It's appropriate for partners, as owners
of for-profit businesses, to focus on making money. But the
partnership structure intensifies pressure for revenues, as
there are more "chiefs" expecting C-suite compensation. Top
partners at the Big Four firms earn about US$350,000 a year,
says one source, while national practice directors pull in
seven-figure incomes. "I remember senior partners telling
me, 'You're not going to get rich in this business,'" recalls
Giusto of his time at Deloitte. "But some of these top guys
[at the big firms] are getting rich."
And while money may not be the root of
all evil, it's usually in the vicinity. No doubt recognizing
this relationship, PwC has changed its compensation system,
essentially eliminating the firm's bonus payouts. But the
accounting profession requires rigorous training and demands
long hours. Its practitioners should be paid well. Even Mulford
argues that the for-profit model "brings the best talent to
the firms."
Maybe so. But longtime watchers of the
accounting scene say big money has changed the Big Four, and
something has been lost. "In the past, auditing was really
a professional service," says Howell. "Now, the primary objective
of firms is to get bigger - and to make more money for the
partners.".
EPILOGUE
A few weeks after the Enron scandal
broke, Vanderbilt University conducted a roundtable on the
accounting industry. After the conference, a former student
came over to talk to Owen Graduate School's Jeter, who chaired
the discussion. She recalls with amazement the conversation
she had with the former student. "He told me that he had gone
on to become a lawyer, and his wife was a CPA," remembers
Jeter. "He then said, in essence, that he and his wife both
do the same thing. I asked him what that was. He said: 'Find
loopholes.'"
John Goff is technology editor at
CFO, CFO Asia's sister publication.
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