Prisoners of Debt


In a financial version of Night of the Living Dead, debts forgiven by bankruptcy courts are springing back to life to haunt consumers. Fueling these miniature horror stories is an unlikely market in which seemingly extinguished debts are avidly bought and sold.

The case of Van Rathavongsa illustrates how canceled debts regain vitality. The Raleigh (N.C.) factory worker pulled himself out from beneath a mountain of bills by means of a bankruptcy proceeding that wrapped up in 2002. One of the debts the judge canceled, or "discharged," was $9,523 Rathavongsa owed to Capital One Financial, the big credit-card company. But Capital One continued to report the factory worker's discharged debt to credit bureaus as a live balance, according to documents filed in U.S. Bankruptcy Court in Raleigh.

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This kind of failure by creditors to update credit reports happens with some frequency, consumer lawyers and court-employed bankruptcy trustees say. And it can have consequences: In September, 2003, when Rathavongsa tried to close on a $274,650 mortgage for a new house, his would-be lender, Wachovia, said he would either have to pay Capital One or show proof from the credit-card company that the debt had been discharged. Despite several calls and a letter from his attorney, he says, Capital One never revised the credit report. To obtain the home loan, Rathavongsa eventually did what many consumers in this situation do. He gave in and paid Capital One $9,523 he no longer legally owed.

"Happens All the Time, Your Honor"

Because of episodes like this, discharged debts have attracted the attention of little-known firms expert at buying and selling a range of delinquent consumer obligations. Back-due bills with a face value of billions of dollars change hands at a steep discount every year. Five of the companies in this business are publicly traded on Nasdaq. Others have large private-money backers. B-Line, in Seattle, was acquired last year by the Dallas-based hedge fund firm Lone Star Funds. The investment bank Bear Stearns owns two bankruptcy-debt buyers: Max Recovery and eCast Settlement.

The very existence of this marketplace confounds even some veterans in the bankruptcy field. During a preliminary hearing in New York in March, U.S. Bankruptcy Judge Robert Drain asked a lawyer for JPMorgan Chase how the bank had managed to sell consumer credit-card debts that had been discharged. "I don't know who would buy a discharged account," the perplexed judge said.

"Happens all the time, your honor," the Chase lawyer, Thomas E. Stagg, responded.

Drain's confusion is understandable. Traditionally, discharged debt was seen as not worth the paper it's written on. Once a judge excuses some of a debtor's obligations—part of the bankruptcy system's goal of granting a financial fresh start—that person has no legal duty to pay them. In fact, bankruptcy law prohibits efforts to collect discharged debt.

In the 1990s, businesses adept at tracking and trading consumer debt expanded their reach to dabble in accounts enmeshed in bankruptcy. That dabbling has grown into a robust market. Some of the trade in so-called bankruptcy paper involves debts that remain collectible. What's troubling is that the market now also includes billions in discharged debts, which ought to have no dollar value. Owners of canceled liabilities can revive their value in two main ways: by directly pressuring consumers to cough up cash or by gaming the credit system, as allegedly happened in the Rathavongsa case.

An Opening for Abuse?

The Raleigh man filed a motion in bankruptcy court in November, 2003, asserting that Capital One had improperly failed to update his credit report. U.S. Bankruptcy Judge A. Thomas Small agreed. Capital One, Small wrote in December, 2003, "most likely received notice" of Rathavongsa's bankruptcy filing, as indicated by the company's having ceased trying to collect the debt. Because Capital One never responded to Rathavongsa's motion, the judge wrote, "the court can assume that Capital One filed the erroneous credit report for the purpose of pressuring Rathavongsa to pay a discharged debt." In February, 2004, the judge ordered the company to repay the $9,523, as well as $14,000 in fines and attorney's fees for its "cavalier attitude toward the debtor's motion."

A Capital One spokeswoman, Tatiana Stead, says: "Our records show we did not receive proper notice regarding the bankruptcy notice or subsequent discharge of Mr. Rathavongsa's account." The company has paid what the judge ordered "to put an end to the matter and avoid the additional expenditure of resources that would have been required to appeal the judge's ruling," she says.

Consumer lawyers and even some longtime players in the bankruptcy-paper market say they're worried that the trading of canceled debt encourages unsavory efforts to collect on discharged debt. "What you are highlighting is a significant abuse in the industry," acknowledges William Weinstein, a former chief executive of B-Line and a pioneer in the debt-buying business.

Speaking generally and not about his former company, he confirms that some lenders and debt buyers simply hound consumers to pay debts that have been canceled, while others refrain from informing consumer credit bureaus when debts are eliminated. "The failure to accurately update credit reporting has allowed unscrupulous activity to prosper," says Weinstein. He left B-Line last year after it was purchased by Lone Star for an undisclosed sum, a departure marked by now-settled litigation between Weinstein and his former company. B-Line's current president, Rui Pinto-Cardoso, says the firm doesn't engage in the practices Weinstein describes.

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