Why an expanding source of capital behind today's lawsuits is drawing scrutiny — and what North Carolina's new restriction may signal for the wider market
Third-party litigation funding has grown, over a relatively short period, from a niche financing arrangement into a meaningful force shaping the litigation environment and, by extension, the cost of insurance. It tends to operate out of view, rarely discussed by the parties whose cases it supports, yet its influence reaches into the very loss trends that captive owners watch most closely. For organizations financing their own risk, it is worth understanding what this capital does, why it has attracted steadily growing concern, and why a recent development in North Carolina has captured the industry's attention.
At its simplest, third-party litigation funding (TPLF) is an arrangement in which an outside investor, often a specialized fund or PE Firm, provides capital to a plaintiff or a law firm to pursue a lawsuit. In return, the funder receives an agreed share of any settlement or judgment. The funder is not a party to the dispute and, in most arrangements, holds no interest in the underlying matter beyond its financial return. An ethically questionable proposition in my eyes.
Supporters describe the practice as a way to broaden access to the courts, allowing claimants who could not otherwise afford prolonged litigation to pursue claims they believe are meritorious. That is a fair description of how funding can work in individual cases, and it is the framing most often offered in its defense. Yet alongside that account, a steady and growing chorus of insurers, defense counsel, and policymakers has voiced a more cautious view.
The unease around TPLF is less about any single arrangement and more about the cumulative direction it nudges the system. The concerns most frequently raised tend to cluster around a handful of themes.
Why it reaches the cost of risk: None of these effects appears on a single policyholder's loss run in an obvious way. Their influence is diffuse — felt in the slow drift of verdict severity, the lengthening of claim tails, and the firming of liability rates across the market. It is precisely because the pressure is quiet and indirect that it can be easy to underestimate.
This backdrop is what makes a recent step in North Carolina notable. In June 2026, Governor Josh Stein signed into law House Bill 315, the Prohibit Litigation Investments Act — described as the first measure of its kind in the nation. Rather than the disclosure-oriented approach other states have generally pursued, the law makes it unlawful to engage in litigation investment, or to furnish such investment to a party or to counsel of record in a civil proceeding in the state.
The statute carries real teeth. It authorizes the state's attorney general to bring action against violators, and it allows an injured person to recover treble damages measured against the full potential investment the funder had contemplated. Notably, the bill drew broad bipartisan support: it passed the state House unanimously and cleared the Senate with a single dissenting vote, reflecting a level of agreement that is uncommon for any contested policy question.
The measure also arrives within a wider current of activity. National business groups, including the U.S. Chamber of Commerce's Institute for Legal Reform, championed the law — its president, Stephen Waguespack, framing it as a bulwark "against shadowy investors who bankroll litigation for profit." At the federal level, disclosure-focused legislation introduced in early 2026 by Senate Judiciary Chair Chuck Grassley has met resistance from lawmakers across the aisle, while other states — California, Colorado, and Illinois among them — weigh their own limits on how much influence outside investors may hold over a lawyer's practice.
North Carolina's step suggests that concern over litigation funding has matured from commentary into law — and an outright prohibition is a meaningfully different posture than disclosure, treating the practice not as something to be made visible but as something to be kept out of the state's courts altogether. For those tracking liability cost trends, the question is less whether this single measure reshapes the market and more whether it marks the beginning of a broader regulatory turn.
It is worth noting that the legal and regulatory picture here remains in motion and varies considerably by jurisdiction. The treatment of litigation funding differs from state to state, measures of this kind frequently attract legal challenge, and the practical effect of any prohibition depends on how it is drafted, interpreted, and ultimately enforced. The discussion above is offered as directional context rather than a settled account of the law.
For organizations that finance their own risk through a captive, litigation funding is not an abstract policy debate — it is one of the forces sitting behind the loss trends that determine whether a program performs as expected. The liability lines most exposed to social inflation are also the lines where captives most often participate, and the same pressures that strain the commercial market eventually find their way into retained layers.
A captive that writes or reinsures liability exposure benefits from understanding that the litigation environment is not static, and that the cost of a claim today reflects forces that have little to do with the underlying facts of the loss. That understanding argues for the disciplines captives should already be practising: conservative reserving that reflects current verdict trends rather than historical averages, well-calibrated reinsurance to absorb the tail of an outsized award, and a clear-eyed view of where severity risk is best retained and where it is better ceded to the broader market.
The practical takeaway: Developments like North Carolina's are a reminder that the cost of risk is shaped well upstream of any individual policy. Captive owners who follow these shifts — and who size retentions and reserves with the current litigation climate in mind — are simply better positioned to keep their programs resilient as the environment continues to change.
Captives Insure helps middle-market and Fortune 1000 organizations structure captive programs that retain premium, control, and underwriting profit — with disciplined reserving and reinsurance designed for today's risk environment.
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