LEAVING DELAWARE? THE ESSENTIAL ROLE OF SPECIALIZED CORPORATE COURTS

LEAVING DELAWARE? THE ESSENTIAL ROLE OF SPECIALIZED CORPORATE COURTS

Following the Delaware Court of Chancery’s invalidation of Elon Musk’s fifty-six-billion-dollar compensation package, Tesla moved its incorporation from Delaware to Texas. Shortly thereafter, Delaware’s legislature, seeking to protect Delaware’s dominant incorporation position, passed the most sweeping corporate law amendments in fifty years.

Both supporters of Musk and defenders of Delaware’s judiciary have accused each other of partisanship, but neither side has addressed the central question: What is the role of specialized corporate courts?

This Essay presents a novel theory of why such courts are necessary. Corporate disputes are distinct because they arise within ongoing relationships between shareholders and management, governed by incomplete contracts. To address managerial disloyalty or incompetence, shareholders can replace managers or sue for breaches of fiduciary duties. In this dynamic, courts become third-party participants in these incomplete contracts when they decide which claims merit judicial intervention, and which do not. Judicial review in corporate law thus culminates in claim-dismissal specialization.

The business judgment rule, this Essay reveals, is designed to enable specialized courts to limit intervention to conflicts of interest while referring mismanagement cases to shareholders. This Essay demonstrates that Delaware’s judiciary has largely fulfilled its intended role while highlighting the constraints it faces regarding both shareholders and legislatures in correcting errors. Meanwhile, with its recent home reincorporation in Texas, Tesla can gain insulation from hostile takeovers and activism, prioritizing long-term business strategies and the broader community. Finally, this Essay provides the policy blueprint for over twenty other states that have already adopted specialized corporate courts.

The full text of this Essay can be found by clicking the PDF link to the left.

Introduction

To infinity . . . and Texas? Following an adverse decision in the Delaware Court of Chancery, Elon Musk announced his hope that Tesla would leave Delaware and reincorporate in the state of Texas. 1 See Tornetta v. Musk, 310 A.3d 430, 446 (Del. Ch. 2024) (invalidating Elon Musk’s $56 billion compensation package); Elon Musk (@elonmusk), X (Feb. 1, 2024), https://x.com/elonmusk/status/1752922071229722990 [https://perma.cc/XM86-96UW] (announcing an immediate move to vote on Texas reincorporation).  In a post announcing a similar move for SpaceX, Musk warned others, “If your com­pany is still incorporated in Delaware, I recommend moving to another state as soon as possible.” 2 Elon Musk (@elonmusk), X (Feb. 14, 2024), https://x.com/elonmusk/status/1757924482885583112 [https://perma.cc/5K4C-XDKK]. And, indeed, in its June 13, 2024, shareholder meeting, Tesla shareholders approved the move of the company to Texas. 3 Tesla, Inc., Current Report (Form 8-K) (June 13, 2024), https://www.sec.gov/ix?doc=/ Archives/edgar/data/0001318605/000110465924071439/tm2413800d31_8k.htm (on file with the Columbia Law Review) (“[V]otes cast in favor of approving Proposal 3 [Texas reincorporation] constituted approximately 63% . . . .”).

The Delaware litigation sparking Tesla’s move south centered around a compensation package that promised its prominent CEO 1% of the company’s shares for every $50 billion increase in Tesla’s value. 4 Tornetta, 310 A.3d at 445 (describing the compensation package). Musk accom­plished all the milestones set for him by Tesla’s board of directors and became entitled to shares valued at nearly $56 billion. 5 Id. An objecting shareholder brought suit in Delaware court, which subsequently blocked Tesla from paying Musk the promised shares. 6 Id. Nevertheless, in the same June 13 shareholder meeting, Tesla shareholders ratified the compensa­tion package the Delaware Chancery Court invalidated. 7 Tesla, Inc., supra note 3 (“[V]otes cast in favor of approving Proposal 4 [Elon Musk’s compensation package] constituted approximately 76% . . . .”). Musk’s vindica­tion, however, was only temporary: In a later ruling, the Chancery Court doubled down on its earlier position and rendered the ratification invalid. 8 Tornetta v. Musk, 326 A.3d 1203, 1212 (Del. Ch. 2024).  And even prior to this latest decision, Musk’s compensation saga had already pushed him from state competition to federalism: “When there are egregiously wrong legal judgments in a single state that substan­tially harm American citizens in all other 49 states, the Federal government should take immediate corrective action.” 9 Elon Musk (@elonmusk), X (Nov. 7, 2024), https://x.com/elonmusk/status/1854567200113533325 [https://perma.cc/R2B9-NAT8].

While Musk’s ire over his withheld bonus payment may be under­standable, the benefits of reincorporating in Texas are not as obvious. Nor is it clear whether Delaware’s Chancery Court has truly taken a wrong turn away from its position as a trustworthy corporate law court. Then again, Tesla was not alone in its desire to reincorporate out of Delaware. For instance, Tripadvisor attempted to reincorporate in Nevada but was stopped by a striking decision by Delaware’s Chancery, which was later reversed by Delaware’s Supreme Court. 10 Maffei v. Palkon, 339 A.3d 705, 710 (Del. 2025) (en banc) (reversing the Chancery Court and holding that the business judgment rule applies to corporate reincorporation).

Despite being one of the smallest states in the union, Delaware has long been the preferred state for incorporation, even though most com­panies do not maintain a headquarters or significant facilities there. 11 See Roberta Romano, The Genius of American Corporate Law 6–8 (1993) [hereinafter Romano, The Genius of American Corporate Law] (providing a seminal explo­ration of Delaware’s dominance). Scholars have offered many reasons why Delaware has maintained a posi­tion atop the incorporation hierarchy, but all have centered around either the existence of judicial expertise or the uniqueness of Delaware corporate law. 12 See, e.g., id. at 39–40 (explaining that Delaware’s dominance was due to judicial specialization and laws developed to protect shareholders); William L. Cary, Federalism and Corporate Law: Reflections Upon Delaware, 83 Yale L.J. 663, 685–88 (1974) (explaining that Delaware’s dominance was due to laws developed to enable managerial abuse of share­holders); Ehud Kamar, A Regulatory Competition Theory of Indeterminacy in Corporate Law, 98 Colum. L. Rev. 1908, 1923–27 (1998) (arguing that Delaware’s advantage comes from the concentration of firms, judicial specialization, and Delaware’s strong commitment to corporate value).

These analyses are undoubtedly important, but they have also left a gaping hole in our understanding of corporate courts and corporate law: What is so special about corporate law that we couch it in judicial expertise and specialized courts? While other legal areas like tax, 13 See Leandra Lederman, (Un)Appealing Deference to the Tax Court, 63 Duke L.J. 1835, 1836–39 (2014) (describing the Tax Court’s role). patents, 14 See Rochelle Cooper Dreyfuss, The Federal Circuit: A Case Study in Specialized Courts, 64 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1, 1–3 (1989) (exploring the rationale for the specialization of patent courts). and bankruptcy 15 See Jonathan M. Seymour, Against Bankruptcy Exceptionalism, 89 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1925, 1926–35 (2022) (exploring the rationale for bankruptcy courts’ specialization). have specialized courts, other complex fields like medical malpractice do not. This discrepancy indicates that complexity alone is insufficient to warrant specialization. Each specialized area has unique rea­sons justifying its need for specialized courts. 16 For instance, family courts and probate courts handle sensitive matters like cus­tody, divorce, and estate disputes, illustrating a social rationale. See, e.g., Ellen R. Jordan, Specialized Courts: A Choice?, 76 Nw. U. L. Rev. 745, 746, 748 (1981). Therefore, understanding the specific rationale for corporate law’s specialization, beyond just its complexity, is critical. This Essay answers these questions by offering a novel theory of the connection between corporate law and specialized courts.

Unlike most state courts in the United States, the Delaware Chancery Court’s jurisdiction focuses nearly exclusively on equity cases, a focus that evolved into a specialty for corporate disputes. 17 See William T. Quillen & Michael Hanrahan, A Short History of the Delaware Court of Chancery—1792–1992, 18 Del. J. Corp. L. 819, 831–34 (1993). The court also has any statutory jurisdiction conferred by law. See Del. Const. art. IV, § 10. For decades, it has been the gold standard for resolution of complex business and corporate gov­ernance disputes. 18 See About the Division of Corporations, Del. Div. Corps., https://corp.delaware.gov/aboutagency/ [https://perma.cc/RS43-VCVB] (last visited Aug. 16, 2025) (“More than 66% of the Fortune 500 have chosen Delaware as their legal home. . . . The Delaware Court of Chancery is a unique, more than 225 year old business court that has written most of the modern U.S. corporation case law.”). As of 2020, twenty-five states have come to appreciate the benefits that specialized business courts can bring and have created their own specialized courts. 19 Lee Applebaum, Mitchell Bach, Eric Milby & Richard L. Renck, Through the Decades: The Development of Business Courts in the United States of America, 75 Bus. Law. 2053, 2057 (2020).

Texas joined this trend in 2023, endorsing the creation of the Texas Business Court. 20 Welcome to Texas: Texas Governor Signs Law Creating Specialized Business Courts, Sidley Austin LLP (June 12, 2023), https://www.sidley.com/en/insights/newsupdates/2023/06/welcome-to-texas_texas-governor-signs-law-creaing-specialized-business-courts [https://perma.cc/4BFU-BN6U] [hereinafter Welcome to Texas]. Like Delaware’s Court of Chancery, this court exclusively hears business and corporate governance disputes. 21 Id. Strikingly, Tesla and SpaceX decided to reincorporate in Texas shortly after this announce­ment, even though the court would not begin operating until September 2024. 22 Id.; see also Tesla, Inc., supra note 3 (noting the date of Tesla’s decision). Even to this day, the court remains in its infancy. 23 See Eight Months In—What’s Happening in the New Texas Business Court, O’Melveny & Myers LLP (May 9, 2025), https://www.omm.com/insights/alerts-publications/eight-months-in-what-s-happening-in-the-new-texas-business-court/ [https://perma.cc/QT36-X3JM] (“Although the early opinions from the Texas Business Court largely concern juris­dictional issues, litigants can expect to see more substantive opinions as cases proceed past the initial gatekeeping stage.”). This raises the question: What benefits does reincorporating in Texas bring?

As the Texas court is still developing, its doctrinal form is uncertain. While practical and political considerations may help mold the court over time, relying on a newly created court to settle high-stakes business suits comes with a certain amount of unpredictability and risk. 24 See Welcome to Texas, supra note 20 (“[T]here are likely to be some growing pains and a number of unexpected effects . . . .”). The lack of established precedents also means corporate managers face uncertainty about potential liability for their desired plans of action.

In other words, the Texas Business Court represents a blank canvas—an opportunity to offer its own vision for handling corporate law and governance suits. But can Texas structure this vision to be as successful as Delaware’s established system? Can Nevada, which has similarly proposed to establish a business court in February 2025, 25 Kyle Chouinard, Establishing a Nevada Business Court Could Attract Billions in Revenue, Lawmaker Says, L.V. Sun (Feb. 9, 2025), https://lasvegassun.com/news/2025/feb/09/establishing-a-nevada-business-court-could-attract/ [https://perma.cc/T95L-6A5F]. do the same? To answer these questions, we need to examine why specialized business courts are necessary to resolve corporate governance disputes.

Assessments of corporate courts exist within corporate law’s broader political economy: States compete with one another to attract incorpora­tions to their state—a significant source of franchise taxes and other benefits. 26 See, e.g., Lucian Arye Bebchuk, Federalism and the Corporation: The Desirable Limits on State Competition in Corporate Law, 105 Harv. L. Rev. 1435, 1442–48 (1992) (describing the states’ incentives and competition). And as Musk is clearly acutely aware, this competition is not just interstate: States like Delaware must also weigh the threat that the federal government will intervene and take over the laws they develop, as it has in the past, particularly in the context of laws regarding shareholder votes. 27 See Mark J. Roe, Delaware’s Competition, 117 Harv. L. Rev. 588, 596–600 (2003) (describing the impact of federal law and threat of further federalization on corporate law).

Within this regulatory context, traditional justifications for creating specialized courts can be described as either “public-facing” or “business-facing.” Public-facing arguments claim that specialized courts will attract businesses, creating economic benefits such as jobs, revenue, and enhanced incorporation tax income for public services. 28 See, e.g., N.Y. Com. Div., The Benefits of the Commercial Division to the State of New York 1–3 (c. 2018), https://www.nycourts.gov/LegacyPDFS/courts/comdiv/PDFs/TheBenefitsoftheCommercialDivisiontotheStateofNewYork.pdf (on file with the Columbia Law Review) (explaining the benefits of business courts). Business-facing justifications highlight the advantages specialized courts bring to incorpo­rated businesses 29 See, e.g., Romano, The Genius of American Corporate Law, supra note 11, at 44 (“[T]he more firms there are in Delaware, the more legal precedents will be produced, further providing a sounder basis for business planning . . . .”). : Judges overseeing only business disputes develop exper­tise, leading to quicker resolutions and more predictable, higher-quality decisions over time. 30 See, e.g., Ad Hoc Comm. on Bus. Cts., Business Courts: Towards a More Efficient Judiciary, 52 Bus. Law. 947, 951–53 (1997) (explaining the benefits of selecting appropriate scope in judicial specialization).

While valid, these justifications do not fully explain why specialized courts are necessary to resolve complex corporate governance disputes. The main issue is that the cited benefits lack a clear connection to the specific subject matter of these courts. In other words, these justifications could apply to specialization in any legal area.

Consider, for example, lawsuits arising from brain surgery complica­tions. Such cases can be extremely complex, requiring judges to under­stand advanced medical concepts. 31 Deciding whether a doctor failed to exhibit the same level of care that other rea­sonable brain surgeons would have exercised requires a certain level of understanding of the underlying science, an area of medicine that requires years of study and with which the judge is most likely unfamiliar. See, e.g., Trees v. Ordonez, 311 P.3d 848, 854 (Or. 2013) (explaining that the necessity of expert testimony in most medical malpractice cases follows from the rationale that a layperson lacks the requisite technical knowledge to assess the standard of care). One could argue for specialized courts in this area too, citing efficiency and predictability. Yet, there has not been a significant push for medical malpractice courts. Similarly, courts adjudi­cating high-stakes debt agreements with multiple claimants, outside the bankruptcy context, are also not specialized, despite the evergreen impact of debt on corporate America. 32 See Tomer S. Stein, Debt as Corporate Governance, 74 Hastings L.J. 1281, 1290–96 (2023) [hereinafter Stein, Debt as Corporate Governance] (describing the complexity of debt agreements and their governing laws). The American judicial system is seemingly content to allow courts of general jurisdiction to handle these cases, despite both the judges’ lack of expertise in a complex subject matter and the presence of multiple claimants and high economic stakes. Therefore, citing generic benefits of specialization is insufficient to reveal the distinct rationale for corporate disputes specialization. We must identify the unique characteristics of corporate law and governance disputes that set them apart from other legal matters.

Corporate disputes are not isolated conflicts but rather take place in the context of an ongoing relationship between shareholders and man­agement, among shareholders themselves, and between shareholders and other corporate stakeholders. 33 See Ad Hoc Comm. on Bus. Cts., supra note 30, at 952–53 (explaining that cor­porate disputes can impact “numerous persons throughout society, including employees, shareholders, creditors, supplies, or customers of the companies involved”). The cardinal relationship between share­holders and management can be thought of as an incomplete contract between a principal and an agent. 34 Zohar Goshen & Sharon Hannes, The Death of Corporate Law, 94 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 263, 269 (2019). The principal (the shareholders) invests in the firm, and the agent (the board) manages the firm to create future value. 35 Id. Beyond the general instruction to “maximize firm value,” there are few (if any) enforceable precepts as to how to manage the firm. 36 For the seminal case, see Dodge v. Ford Motor Co., 170 N.W. 668, 684 (Mich. 1919) (“A business corporation is organized and carried on primarily for the profit of the stockholders.”). Instead, the parties agree to a general allocation of control rights, which govern the distribution of decisionmaking power over the firm, and cash flow rights, which govern the distribution of firm-generated value. 37 See Zohar Goshen & Richard Squire, Principal Costs: A New Theory for Corporate Law and Governance, 117 Colum. L. Rev. 767, 785 (2017) (describing the nature of control and cash flow rights). In this incomplete contract, conflicts may arise as to the allocation and use of these two types of rights. 38 Corporate control rights conflicts are most visible in contests for control over the entire corporation, such as a hostile takeover. Challenging the right of the target corpora­tion’s board to adopt “takeover defenses” without shareholder consent is a dispute over the allocation of control rights between the board and shareholders. See, e.g., Frank H. Easterbrook & Daniel R. Fischel, The Proper Role of a Target’s Management in Responding to a Tender Offer, 94 Harv. L. Rev. 1161, 1165–82 (1981) [hereinafter Easterbrook & Fischel, Responding to a Tender Offer] (analyzing the interests of shareholders and man­agers in the takeover context). Disputes over the allocation of cash flow rights, on the other hand, arise when a conflict has the potential to influence the division of cash flows or assets. For example, minority shareholders in a public corporation may dispute whether the price offered for the minority shares by the controlling owner in a merger was fair. See, e.g., Ronald J. Gilson & Jeffrey N. Gordon, Controlling Controlling Shareholders, 152 U. Pa. L. Rev. 785, 787–88 (2003) (theorizing the role of law in disputes between controlling and minority shareholders).

To begin, the allocation of control rights to agents leads to agent costs that include both competence costs, such as the costs imposed by a loyal but incompetent manager, and conflict costs, capturing the costs imposed by disloyal managers motivated to benefit themselves at the expense of the firm and its shareholders. 39 Goshen & Squire, supra note 37, at 788, 793. Both types of costs reduce firm value. To cope with potential manager–agent costs, the principal-shareholders keep two rights: discretionary control rights such as shareholder voting allowing them to dismiss the manager and duty-enforcement rights such as the right to sue the agent for breach of directors’ fiduciary duties. 40 Id. at 779.

When shareholders choose to use discretionary control rights, they may be imposing principal costs that include both competence costs (e.g., mistakenly firing a loyal and competent manager) and conflict costs (e.g., shareholders demanding short-term profits at the expense of long-term value). 41 Id. at 786, 791. Both types of costs harm firm value. Importantly, the use of discretionary control rights is tantamount to a self-help remedy, as share­holders need not explain why, for instance, they replaced the manager. 42 Id. at 800 (“In the enforcement of [discretionary control] rights, there is no dis­tinction between seeking the relief and granting it . . . .”). But when the principals enlist the help of courts by using duty-enforcement rights, they may be imposing adjudication costs that include both competence costs (e.g., honest mistakes made by inexperienced judges while determining whether an agent breached fiduciary duties) and conflict costs (e.g., plaintiffs’ lawyers filing meritless suits). 43 See id. at 770–71. Both types of costs reduce firm value.

To maximize firm value, the parties need to minimize the total control costs: agent costs, principal costs, and adjudication costs. One important consideration to minimizing control costs is whether to hold an agent accountable through discretionary control rights (and bear the principal costs) or through duty-enforcement rights (and bear the adjudication costs). Obviously, that decision should depend on the relative size of principal costs compared with adjudication costs. Theoretically, the shareholders will decide to sue the manager only when adjudication costs are lower than principal costs.

But shareholders do not decide whether to sue the managers; it is plaintiffs’ lawyers who make this decision. 44 See Ronald J. Gilson & Robert H. Mnookin, Disputing Through Agents: Cooperation and Conflict Between Lawyers in Litigation, 94 Colum. L. Rev. 509, 510 (1994) (describing the conditions under which lawyers dominate principal–agent conflicts). The plaintiffs’ lawyer’s incen­tives to litigate are not always aligned with the interest of the sharehold­ers. 45 See id. at 513 (“[T]he incentives for a cooperative lawyer, who is a repeat player concerned with maintaining [their] reputation over time, differ from those of [their] client, who as a one-shot litigant may be tempted to defect.”). Regardless of the relative size of principal costs and adjudication costs, the plaintiffs’ lawyer’s interest is to file a suit whenever there is a posi­tive probability for rewards either through a court’s ruling or a settlement. This reality transfers to the court the role of deciding which issues to accept for litigation and which issues to send back to the shareholders to solve on their own through discretionary control rights. The court’s role of sorting cases transforms it into a third party participant in the incom­plete contract governing the ongoing relationship between shareholders and management. 46 The court becomes a third party to the contract functionally but not formally (i.e., becoming a signatory). The notion of “incomplete contract” in this context is economic rather than legal.

In this triangular arrangement, the agents, principals, and courts are not only concerned with resolving the dispute in front of them, but they are also concerned with how the choice of dispute resolution mechanism (be it discretionary control right or duty-enforcement right) impacts the efficient performance of the firm. Understanding this dynamic is key to understanding the role of specialized corporate courts and why they are necessary.

The crucial point is that the total control costs of managing a firm exist before, during, and after any business harm occurs. This is distinct from other types of legal disputes. 47 For discussion of the interplay between corporate law and other types of legal disputes, such as tort litigation, see, e.g., Robert J. Rhee, The Tort Foundation of Duty of Care and Business Judgment, 88 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1139, 1143 (2013) (“Tort theory pro­vides not just the lexicon of liability, but the foundational principles of the duty and liability of corporate boards.”). Consider our brain surgery example from before. 48 See supra note 31 and accompanying text. The plaintiff and doctor had virtually no relationship before the injury. There is no balancing of rights between them or negoti­ation over responsibilities and entitlements. Once harm occurs, the plain­tiff’s sole recourse is judicial intervention. They lack other mechanisms to address the damage or influence the doctor’s behavior. Similarly, when lenders and borrowers enter into a contract, both their relationship and their recourse is limited by the tenor and express terms of the agreement. 49 See Tomer S. Stein, Rules vs. Standards in Private Ordering, 70 Buff. L. Rev. 1835, 1873–77 (2022) (comparing lender and shareholder contractual arrangements). After the suit concludes, judicial interaction likely ends.

Corporate disputes differ from isolated conflicts, such as medical torts or debt contracts, as they involve ongoing relationships between share­holders, management, and the court. 50 See infra section I.A. While judicial recourse is the plain­tiff’s only option in brain surgery or debt agreement cases, corporate dis­putes offer alternative mechanisms to address agent costs. Further­more, courts know that any decision they impose on the corporation will change the corporate arrangement going forward.

This unique characteristic of corporate disputes necessitates special­ized courts with knowledge and expertise in corporate law, and a capacity to play an integral and ongoing role in corporate arrangements. Knowl­edgeable courts are aware of their own competence and conflict costs, understanding that legal remedies aren’t always necessary to resolve a corporate dispute. Shareholders and managers can use other mechanisms to handle matters on their own. Accordingly, expert courts limit their inter­vention to cases in which shareholders exercising legal rights would be more efficient than shareholders addressing the problems themselves. The ability to distinguish these scenarios is rare, uniquely required in cor­porate law, and drives the need for specialized corporate courts. It is this tripartite allocation of competence and conflict costs across courts, share­holders, and managers that makes specialized corporate courts necessary and important.

Viewed in this context, the business judgment rule 51 See In re Walt Disney Co. Derivative Litig., 906 A.2d 27, 52 (Del. 2006) (en banc) (“[In business judgment rule review,] [o]ur law presumes that ‘in making a business deci­sion the directors of a corporation acted on an informed basis, in good faith, and in the honest belief that the action taken was in the best interests of the company.’” (quoting Aronson v. Lewis, 473 A.2d 805, 812 (Del. 1984))). should be seen as a representation of specialized corporate courts’ proper role in the ongoing relationship among management, shareholders, and the courts. The business judgment rule embodies the core reason for specialized courts: limiting judicial intervention to certain types of agent costs. For some types of agent costs, such as those resulting from nonconflicted deci­sions that did not pan out, the business judgment rule effectively prevents judicial intervention. 52 See infra section IV.A. This is not because specialized courts are unable to adjudicate these matters but rather because the court recognizes that it would be more efficient for shareholders to address this type of misman­agement instead. In essence, being a specialized court requires knowing when to apply the business judgment rule and when not to. And beyond the business judgment rule, specialized courts understand that even when their involvement is necessary, their enforcement role is not absolute, and they must remain sensitive to the impact of their decisions on principals and agents going forward.

From this perspective, specialized corporate courts function similarly to constitutional courts. 53 For discussion of the proper role of constitutional courts, see generally Stephen Gardbaum, What Makes for More or Less Powerful Constitutional Courts?, 29 Duke J. Compar. & Int’l L. 1 (2018) (exploring various constitutional courts to explain the sources and scope of a constitutional court’s judicial power). When deciding constitutional matters, a consti­tutional court recognizes that it is also adjudicating the scope and allocation of its own powers relative to the executive and the legislative branches. 54 See, e.g., Nuno Garoupa & Tom Ginsburg, Building Reputation in Constitutional Courts: Political and Judicial Audiences, 28 Ariz. J. Int’l & Compar. L. 539, 544 (2011) (explaining the interaction between constitutional courts and the political branches when addressing constitutional issues).  It understands that not every problem requires judicial inter­vention, as other recourse exists. 55 See, e.g., Lawrence Gene Sager, Fair Measure: The Legal Status of Underenforced Constitutional Norms, 91 Harv. L. Rev. 1212, 1239–40 (1978) (describing doctrinal under­enforcement as an invitation by the Supreme Court for participation by other branches of government).  Some disputes might better be resolved by turning to the executive or the legislature, indirectly leaving the issue for the voters. 56 Id.  Similarly, specialized corporate courts recognize that adju­dicating corporate disputes requires regulating their own powers relative to the shareholders and managers. This expertise goes much beyond resistance to judicial error or bias and the vagaries of politics 57 See Ofer Eldar & Gabriel Rauterberg, Is Corporate Law Nonpartisan?, 2023 Wis. L. Rev. 177, 212–20 (analyzing the role of partisanship in corporate law). —even if our constitutional or corporate judges avoid partisanship, it takes a differ­ent skillset to know when judicial intervention is not appropriate despite the judge’s best judgment as to what might be an unbiased understanding of a legal dispute.

In other words, specialized corporate courts are needed not only because of how they resolve corporate disputes but because they know when to do so and, more importantly, when not to do so. Rather than presuming they must resolve all corporate governance disputes, these courts consider what is the most efficient resolution of each dispute. Sometimes direct court intervention is best; other times creating rules that will allow share­holders to resolve the issue themselves is more appropriate. The utility of a specialized corporate court stems from the fact that it views itself not as an adjudicator overseeing a dispute between two distant parties. Rather, specialized corporate courts recognize that they are ongoing participants in a triangular relationship.

To be sure, specialized corporate courts continue to perform the core adjudicatory functions common to all courts, including the efficient man­agement of trial proceedings, the development of precedent, the supervi­sion of settlements, and the evaluation of expert testimony. 58 In corporate disputes, the court’s ability to evaluate financial testimony becomes particularly important. See infra notes 244–248 and accompanying text. The distinguishing feature of specialized corporate courts, however, lies in their capacity to regulate their own institutional role within the ongoing, tripartite relationship among shareholders, managers, and the judiciary. Identifying this salient self-regulatory function is essential to understand­ing the distinctive role of specialized corporate courts.

Given the necessity of specialization, Tesla’s move to Texas is strategic, even though Texas’s specialized corporate law courts are still in their infancy. While a successful specialized court in Texas, following this Essay’s blueprint, would offer benefits similar to those in Delaware, Texas has a unique advantage: It is Tesla’s home state, hosting some of Tesla’s factories and its headquarters. 59 See supra note 3. Unlike Delaware, which is only interested in col­lecting incorporation fees, Texas is also interested in the benefits of Tesla’s business activity and its impact on the state’s economy. Texas can provide insulation from hostile takeovers and hedge fund activism, prioritizing not only shareholder profits but also the welfare of employees and other resi­dents. 60 See infra Part V. This environment enables Tesla to pursue long-term, innovative projects that benefit employees and, eventually, shareholders as well. 61 See infra Part V.

This Essay offers a novel justification for specialized corporate courts by examining their unique role in regulating corporate affairs. Part I ana­lyzes the participation of the courts in the incomplete contract between shareholders and management, identifies the prototypes of corporate value loss, and explains how the parties would like to address them. Part II discusses “mismanagement” losses, explaining why judicial intervention is inefficient in these cases. Part III contrasts “mismanagement” with “man­agerial takings,” when shareholders cannot adequately address losses independently, thus warranting judicial intervention. Part IV argues for specialized courts over general courts given their reluctance to adjudicate mismanagement cases and their ability to address takings cases effectively. This Part presents a new rationale for the business judgment rule and related review doctrines, considering specialized corporate courts’ proper role in managing the ongoing management–shareholder relationship, and these courts’ relationship with legislative bodies. Lastly, this Part dis­cusses legislative interventions as a form of correcting judicial mistakes. Using this novel framework, Part V resolves the issues underlying the Tesla jurisdictional dispute and draws out the profound policy implications for the future development of state corporate law.