Ronald Cass, Dean Emeritus of Boston University School of Law, has penned the best paper on antitrust regulation that you will read this year, especially if you’re interested in the relationship between antitrust and  information technology sectors.  His paper is entitled, “Antitrust for High-Tech and Low: Regulation, Innovation, and Risk,” and it makes two straightforward points:

1. Antitrust enforcement has characteristics and risks similar to other forms of regulation.
2. Antitrust authorities need to exercise special care in making enforcement decisions respecting conduct of individual dominant firms in high-technology industries.

Here are some highlights from the paper that build on those two points.

Antitrust Is Economic Regulation & Carries Many of the Same Risks

As I noted in my 2009 review of Gary Reback’s antitrust screed “Free the Market,” there are few things that frustrate me more than the myth that antitrust is somehow not a form of economic regulation.  I hear this tired old argument trotted out time and time again, even by many conservatives. It’s utter bunk. Cass makes that abundantly clear in his paper.  “Application of antitrust laws by government officials… has the same risks and problems associated with other forms of regulation, including other “fair play” regulations,” notes Cass. “It requires considerable information on how particular firms and particular markets work, on the effect of particular business practices, and on the costs and benefits of intervening to stop a particular practice as opposed to allowing market forces to limit its effects,” he says (p. 6-7).

Cass isn’t the only one who has made this point.  As James Miller notes in this Federalist Society video (starting around the 18-minute mark), antitrust is not just a form of regulation but it often takes the form of a industrial policy scheme, complete with all its failings. Rick Rule agrees, noting how antitrust is a specialized form of regulation. Cass also appeared at that event and, starting around the 36-minute mark, makes his case for antitrust as just another form of regulation. If you want to watch the entire panel discussion, I’ve embedded the video down below.

Information Technology Markets are Highly Dynamic; Antitrust Can Hurt High-Tech Innovation

The more important takeaway from Cass’s excellent paper is that, precisely because antitrust regulation is haunted by many of the same problems as traditional economic regulatory controls, it is particularly ill-suited for fast-paced, rapidly-evolving information technology markets. “The problem arises in part because, while the concerns over network effects are dynamic, the principal tools for antitrust analysis – especially respecting definition of the relevant market – are static,” Cass observes. “These tools almost inevitably orient enforcers’ decisions toward excessive concern with one part of what, rightly understood, is a much larger competitive picture, even though the composition of the larger picture is difficult to predict. (p. 3) “Rather than demonstrating special caution in venturing into this set of cases, however, antitrust enforcers seem anxious to engage the leading high-technology firms while markets are evolving at a rapid pace,” he notes. (p. 2) Such intervention is particularly unwise, Cass argues, because:

These are markets where it is particularly difficult to maintain dominance, where sustained leadership over some time frame most likely indicates strong efficiencies (strong consumer value), and where innovations that are not yet recognized as significant can offer the strongest constraints on dominant firm behavior and the most important challenges to crafting a meaningful remedy that does more than disadvantage an individual contestant in a changing world. (p. 35)

The real danger of excessive antitrust is how it can force innovators to take their eye off the ball and spend more time trying to please policymakers than the general public. Cass notes:

If successful firms trying to stay on top in industries that can change rapidly and unpredictably often become targets for antitrust scrutiny, rational calculations of innovation costs (investments that help firms succeed) will necessarily include the (discounted) cost of contesting antitrust challenges as well as the costs of directly pursuing innovation. Antitrust inquiries can exact extraordinarily high costs from target firms, both in direct expenditures and in distraction from core business operations. That is true even for inquiries that do not result in suits, as enterprises facing the possibility of a long, expensive lawsuit (and, if the suit is lost, a potentially expensive and disruptive remedy) obviously will respond by trying both to persuade enforcement authorities that their conduct has been lawful and to avoid conduct that will increase the prospect of an action being filed. (p. 10)

Cass identifies IBM’s 13-year long antitrust ordeal as “the paradigmatic case for ill-conceived antitrust enforcement” where all these problems where on display. During the 13-year case, the government collected more than 750 million documents and required IBM to retain 200 attorneys at one point. (Read CNet staff writer Rachel Konrad’s summary of the fiasco from back in 2000). The DOJ finally abandoned the case in 1982 after it became clear how markets had evolved around whatever earlier “dominance” IBM had in mainframe markets. Namely, the desktop PC and software revolution had passed IBM (and clueless antitrust regulators) right by. “In the end,” notes Cass, “the case stands for the proposition that government officials, even with the benefit of extensive investigation and expertise, are unlikely to appreciate the most important sources of competition to enterprises that dominate a particular market and are especially prone to ill-advised interventions based on theoretical objections to market structure.” (p. 16) Worse yet, he notes, was the impact on IBM’s ability to innovate:

More significant than the draw on IBM’s funds were two other byproducts of the antitrust litigation: the distraction of its executives from planning and executing functions necessary to IBM’s long-term business interests, and the active discouragement of decisions that would have benefited the business but might have triggered further antitrust action. (p. 15)

As Peter Pitsch noted in his 1996 PFF book The  Innovation Age, “In 1981 the Department of Justice was still pressing their case against IBM while market forces were about to lay waste to the company.” Pitsch noted that IBM’s manufacturing capacity was slashed in the years that followed and also notes that, astonishingly, “in the space of five years after 1987, IBM lost two thirds of its market value — more than $70 billion.” IBM has recovered and is a very different company today, of course. Yet, it seems clear that the DOJ’s antitrust industrial policy scheming decimated the firm’s chances of keeping pace with others digital technology leaders during the 80s and even 90s.

Cass notes that this same thing played out for Microsoft following its antitrust ordeal as the firm was forced to become extra cautious about how it innovated with regulators always staring over their shoulder. Yet, “it is plain that the real competitive threat to the company came from innovations that lay outside the market as government officials saw it,” Cass notes, since few were talking about search and social networking in the late 90s as a serious threat to Microsoft’s hegemony.

Lessons: Appreciate Dynamism and Be Careful about Market Definition

Cass leaves us with several lessons from the history he recounts. I’ll just cite a few passages here, but generally his lessons can be boiled down to: (1) before intervening, appreciate just how dynamic these information technology markets can be; and, relatedly, (2) be very careful about how you define markets for purposes of antitrust analysis. He notes, for example:

• With this in mind, the overarching caution to antitrust enforcers that emerges from the cases reviewed above is against presuming that the obvious, common-sense boundaries around a market… appropriately set the field of vision for antitrust enforcement (much less the artificially circumscribed market definitions that enforcers will urge when a case has been initiated). The market boundaries that so often are taken for granted frequently fail to capture the most important sources of competition. That is true even in markets as “old-line” and seemingly simple as the auto market, but it is even more likely to be true in high-technology industries where, almost by definition, new innovations will revise established assumptions about how things are done. The market definition problem reflects more than the fact that officials so frequently cannot see changes coming that will dramatically alter competitive conditions in an industry. Almost no one, even those most intimately engaged in the industry itself, is apt to make good predictions about which technologies will succeed or what the ultimate scope of a new technology will be. (p. 28-9)
• The more trenchant flaw in antitrust enforcement is not officials’ failure to identify specific market changes or specific companies that will dramatically rise or fall in value. Rather, the larger problem is that it is exceedingly difficult for government officials to discern the critical factors that explain what actually makes a particular firm dominant, the factors that affect the durability of dominance, or the kinds of change in the market (either on the demand side or the supply side) that could dramatically erode that dominance. (p. 28)
• Despite the networks they have established, each of these businesses also is notable for the relative ease with which consumers can switch from one provider (or one technology) to another – allowing consumers to substitute one product or service for another or, in many cases, to add additional products or services from multiple providers at minimal or zero cost. (p. 31)

These lessons and themes have motivated all my thinking about how information technology policy should be formulated and the (very limited) role that antitrust regulation should play. Just about every other installment of my weekly Forbes column has dealt with such issues, including most notably these essays:

• “Tech Titans & Schumpeter’s Vision,” (8/22/11)
• “No One Owns A Techno Crystal Ball” (10/2/11)
• “The Rule Of Three: The Nature of Competition In The Digital Economy” (6/29/12)
• “Bye Bye BlackBerry. How Long Will Apple Last?” (4/1/12)
• “Regulatory, Antitrust and Disruptive Risks Threaten Apple’s Empire” (4/8/12)
• “Searching In Vain For An Antitrust Case Against Google” (6/30/12)
• “Sunsetting Technology Regulation: Applying Moore’s Law to Washington” (3/25/12)

Anyway, please make sure to read the entire Cass paper. It’s a keeper. I know I will be citing it in virtually everything I write on the topic in coming months and years. In a follow-up post, I will offer a list of other important papers on antitrust and high-tech markets that you want to have on your reading list.

In this new Money Morning article, “The Antitrust Curse: What Apple Can Learn From Microsoft, IBM,”  David Zeiler wonders whether the antitrust lawsuit filed against Apple and several book publishers by the U.S. Department of Justice last week could open the door to a broader case against Apple or, at a minimum, simply become a major distraction to the firm and it’s ability to innovate going forward. He uses IBM and Microsoft as case studies in this regard and notes that, “the problem with being in the DOJ’s gunsight is that it distracts management, makes the company hesitant to innovate, and blemishes the company’s public image.  While antitrust woes may not have been entirely responsible for Microsoft and IBM ceding their dominant positions in tech, they were clearly a major factor,” he says. “And worse for Apple, the e-book case could be just the beginning.”

Quite right. I raised the same concern in my recent Forbes column,”Regulatory, Antitrust and Disruptive Risks Threaten Apple’s Empire,” which Zeiler was kind enough to quote in his essay. In that piece, I argued:

Even if Apple beats back [the eBooks] investigation, broader questions are being raised about the company’s power that could invite a much broader investigation. The danger for Apple is that antitrust becomes an omnipresent threat that must be factored into all ongoing business decisions. Antitrust is a particular danger to Apple because the firm is highly vertically integrated and that integration is the source of many of their innovations.  As earlier tech titans like IBM and Microsoft learned, when antitrust hangs like the Sword of Damocles, every decision about how to evolve and innovate becomes a calculated gamble.

Regarding the earlier impact that antitrust Sword of Damocles had on Microsoft, Zeiler unearthed this terrific 2005 quote from Mark Kroese, a general manager of information services at the Microsoft Network, who described the impact of the MS antitrust case on innovation at the firm as follows: “Working at Microsoft today vs. five years ago is different,” Kroese said. “If anyone thinks the antitrust case hasn’t slowed us down, you’re wrong. If I want to meet with a products manager for Windows, there needs to be three lawyers in the room. We have to be so careful, we err on the side of caution. We are on such a fine line of conduct.” Regarding how antitrust chilled IBM, Zeiler cites veteran tech journalist Steve Wildstrom of Tech.pinions who noted,  “Twelve years of litigation were an enormous distraction in a time of rapid technological and business change. IBM management became cautious and over-lawyered, constantly looking over its shoulder-a condition that persisted for years after the case ended. The antitrust case was almost certainly a major cause of the serious decline of IBM in the late 1980s and early 90s,” Wildstrom said.

Of course, it is impossible to scientifically determine to what degree antitrust harassment contributed to either IBM or Microsoft’s inability to innovate and adapt to the rapidly changing market conditions. And let’s be clear: both IBM and MS have found ways to rebound and innovate in other ways. But one wonders what was lost in the process as the threat of antitrust constantly loomed and potentially chilled innovative efforts that could have kept both firms on the cutting-edge.

It’s not just Apple that faces similar threats today. Google is obviously another company increasingly mentioned as an antitrust target. Commenting of the dangers of a potential case against Google, Bernstein Research senior analyst Carlos Kirjner argues that “even if regulatory proceedings come to naught, the process has the potential, in the most extreme circumstances, to consume so much of the company’s energy that it can lead to important strategic missteps: many believe that Microsoft missed the boat on the Internet, and IBM on the importance of the personal computer, in large part because their management teams were focused on defending against the DoJ’s antitrust efforts.”

The better approach to disciplining tech firms and markets is to rely less on intervention and more on Schumpeter’s “perennial gales of creative destruction,” which are blowing harder than ever in our modern high-tech economy. In markets built largely upon binary code and governed by Moore’s Law, the pace and nature of change has become hyper-Schumpeterian: unrelenting and utterly unpredictable. Innovative risk-takers are constantly shaking things up and displacing yesterday’s lumbering, lethargic giants. Just ask some of the players that have been largely left in the dust, including AOL, AltaVista, MySpace, Palm, and others. Of course, there’s my favorite recent case study: Research In Motion’s BlackBerry smartphone.  As I noted in my recent column, “Bye Bye BlackBerry. How Long Will Apple Last?” BlackBerry was virtually synonymous with “smartphones” and was considered one of the tech titans that seemed destined to dominate for many years to come. But now the BlackBerry’s days appear numbered and its parent company Research In Motion Ltd. is struggling for its very survival.

Too many tech industry pundits today ignore these dynamic realities and instead rely a myopic analytical approach to the information economy that is fundamentally static in character. Many static equilibrium scholars in both the legal and economic profession tend to adopt a snapshot view of markets and innovation. Such critics often express an overly nostalgic view of the technological past while adopting an excessively gloomy view of the present and the chances for future progress.

But, a la Schumpeter, modern tech markets are highly dynamic. There is no static end-state, “perfect competition,” or “market equilibrium” in today’s information technology marketplace. Change and innovation are chaotic, non-linear, and paradigm-shattering. Schumpeter said it best long ago when he noted how, “in capitalist reality as distinguished from its textbook picture, it is not [perfect] competition which counts but the competition from the new commodity, the new technology, the new source of supply, the new type of organization… competition which commands a decisive cost or quality advantage and which strikes not at the margins of the profits and the outputs of the existing firms but at their foundations and their very lives. This kind of competition is as much more effective than the other,” he argued, because the “ever-present threat” of dynamic, disruptive change “disciplines before it attacks.”

By contrast, the static equilibrium mindset is myopically fixated on short-term market share and price competition while ignoring “competition for innovation,” which is what matters most in the more dynamic Schumpeterian model. “Schumpeterian competition is primarily about active, risk-taking decision makers who seek to change their parameters,” note economists Jerry Ellig and Daniel Lin. “It is about continually destroying the old economic structure from within and replacing it with a new one.” Thus, while static or “perfect competition” models assume away innovation and are preoccupied with equilibrium, dynamic models revolve around disequilibrium and assume that the only constant is change. What is most important to economic progress, therefore, is the ongoing process of constant experimentation and spontaneous discovery that allows new business models and organizational structures to emerge in response to market signals.

The other danger of the static equilibrium mindset is that the same new innovators and innovations that obtain success and scale quite rapidly as a result of this process are sometimes thought to possess problematic market power. Accusations of “monopoly” quickly follow. As Nobel Laureate Ronald Coase noted, “if an economist finds something—a business practice of one sort or another—that he does not understand, he looks for a monopoly explanation. And as in this field we are very ignorant, the number of understandable practices tends to be very large, and the reliance on a monopoly explanation, frequent,” he argued.  Of course, non-economists are just as likely—perhaps more likely—to make that same error. This is why a short-term fixation on market share and market power is so problematic.

Moreover, as Schumpeter also taught us, it is essential that uneven entrepreneurial gains be tolerated so that innovation can occur and be continuously incentivized. Economies need innovators to take risks because progress is born from it. Penalizing the risk-takers by trying to “level the playing field” through rash regulation or antitrust interventions will simply sap the entrepreneurial spirit from the marketplace, limit technological innovation, and diminish the possibility of progress and prosperity over the long-haul.

If you’d like a better understanding of this dynamic conception of competition and an explanation of why the static equilibrium mindset — especially in the antitrust field — is so horribly misguided, then I strongly recommend you begin your investigation with the following readings:

The Technology Policy Institute has released an interesting new study from Robert Crandall and Charles Jackson on “Antitrust in High-Tech Industries,” which takes a close look at the impact of antitrust law in the three most high-profile technology cases of the last half century: IBM, AT&T and Microsoft.  Crandall and Jackson conclude:

In each of our three cases, the ultimate source of major changes in the competitive landscape appears to have been innovation and new technology — technology that was apparently not unleashed by the antitrust litigation. In each case, the government did not and probably could not see how technology would develop over time. Therefore, it was difficult for the government to design remedies that would  accelerate competition when this competition developed from new technologies.

I enjoyed the paper and encourage others to read the entire thing.  It’s very much in line with what we’ve written here in the past on the antitrust and high-tech markets.  See, for example, my review of Gary Reback’s recent book on antitrust and high-tech markets.  As I noted there, the crucial, ‘conflict of visions‘ issue comes down to an appreciation for dynamic competition and technological evolution over the sort of static competition, fixed-pie mindset that so many antitrust defenders espouse.  Those of us who believe in dynamic competition see markets in a constant state of flux and expect that sub-optimal market developments or configurations are exactly the spark that incentivizes new form of market entry, innovation, technological disruption, price competition, and so on.  But the static competition crowd looks at the same situation and imagines that the only hope is to wheel in the wrecking ball of antitrust regulation since they have little faith that things might change for the better. Moreover, they ignore the profound costs associated with such regulation and litigation.  Crandall and Jackson’s paper explains why patience is the better policy.

I want to thank Tim Wu for continuing to engage in a discussion here about his book, The Master Switch, with his various comments to my ongoing rants.  After pouring out about 15,000 words over the past 4 days, I suspect I’m beginning to sound a bit like his cyber-stalker!  I feel a bit bad about this because I really do like Tim a lot and find him to be one of the all-around coolest and most laid-back guys in the Net policy business.  But, as I’ve noted in my ongoing series [see parts 1, 2, 3, & 4], we have profoundly different worldviews when it comes to information history and policy. And some of the recent comments he made to my 3^rd post deserve a serious response.

In one of those comments he asks, “The question, then, is how you get, essentially, limited, controlled government in regulatory affairs; how you duplicate, in some sense, the limits imposed on other dangerous gov’t functions like the army. I don’t think this is having things both ways; I think this is trying to learn from what has gone wrong in the past.”  In the other, he says: “The question I’m asking in the end of the book is whether we can do better; try to have rules against the worse forms abuse without a creeping regulation that turns into capture. I suspect you think that’s impossible, but I don’t.”

So, here’s my response (and I’m making it a new, dedicated post here instead of just a comment in an old thread because I feel we are getting to the heart of the difference between cyber-libertarians (like myself) and cyber-collectivists (or whatever Tim would call himself).

To be clear, I don’t think corporations are angels or that there is never a time when a market can’t be naturally subject to a great deal of control by one company or a handful of companies.  The difference between us comes down to two things primarily.

First, as I have already noted in a couple of these essays (especially this one), I believe regulatory capture, mismanagement, or other shenanigans have more to do with creating and / or maintaining “monopoly” or lasting / harmful “market power” than natural market forces.   By definition, a “purely economic laissez-faire approach” does not exist in markets characterized by regulatory capture and bureaucratic mismanagement.  And you won’t ever get less regulatory capture and bureaucratic mismanagement by increasing the scope of government control over a market.

Second, to the extent that any company or set of companies is able to achieve “market power” is a largely natural fashion (think IBM in 70s or Microsoft in late 90s), I believe that markets can and do act to evolve around those situations quite rapidly, even more rapidly when the market is built on code.

I spent time developing these points in detail in this two-part debate [1, 2] with Lawrence Lessig, which I hope Prof. Wu will take the time to read since I went to great pains to clearly delineate the differences that separate our worldviews.  Ultimately, as I said there in response to Prof. Lessig, what really separates the cyber-libertarian and cyber-collectivist schools of thinking comes down to a belief that “market failures” or “code failures” are ultimately better addressed by voluntary, spontaneous, bottom-up, marketplace responses than by coerced, top-down, governmental solutions. Moreover, the decisive advantage of the market-driven approach to correcting code failure comes down to the rapidity and nimbleness of those response(s).

Does that mean cyber-libertarians believe everything will be all wine and roses in a truly free marketplace?  Absolutely not.  There will be short term spells of what many of us would regard as excessive market power.  The difference between us comes down to the amount of faith we would place in government actors versus market forces / evolution to better solve that problem.  We cyber-libertarians would obviously have a lot more patience with markets and technological change, and would be willing to wait and see how things work out.  We believe, as I have noted in my previous responses to Wu, that it is during what some regard as a market’s darkest hour when some of the most exciting disruptive technologies and innovation are developing.   We are bullish on what I have called experimental, evolutionary dynamism.  People don’t sit still; they respond to incentives, including short-term spells of “market power.”

Is this blind faith in the market?  I suspect Prof. Wu and others would accuse us of that.  But I would argue it isn’t blind faith but informed fact.  It’s interesting, for example, that one of the “information empires” Wu doesn’t spend much time on in his book is IBM.  Back in the 60s and 70s, (as I have documented here before) IBM was the big, bad dog of the computing world, with significant “market power” in mainframes — the only computers that really counted at the time.  Big Blue’s market power was achieved in a fairly natural way, however.  Importantly, there isn’t much regulatory capture or interference I could point to that helped cause or maintain the power IBM had. So, it’s certainly a better case study than others Wu uses in his book, most of which were subject to early meddling by government that tipped the balance in unnatural directions.

Anyway, back in the 1960’s, some folks at the time feared IBM might “leverage” their significant market power into new fields. As a result, the Department of Justice opened an antitrust case against Big Blue in 1969 that would become a 13-year quagmire, with little to show for all the legal wrangling by the time the case was abandoned in 1982.  Here’s how CNet staff writer Rachel Konrad summarized the fiasco back in 2000:

In January 1969, the government began a sweeping antitrust investigation into IBM’s dominance and attempted to break it into smaller companies that would compete against one another. During the six most critical years of the trial, from 1975 to 1980, the parties called 974 witnesses and read 104,400 pages of transcripts, according to Emerson Pugh’s 1995 book “Building IBM: Shaping an Industry and Its Technology.” The 13-year investigation, which required IBM to retain 200 attorneys at one point, fizzled in the early ’80s as the computing landscape shifted from mainframes to personal computers. The government abandoned the tainted effort entirely in 1982, as clones of the IBM PC eroded Big Blue’s dominance. But the company, still fearful of the watchful eye of the Justice Department, took pains to avoid the appearance of a monopoly long after it relinquished its hold on the market. People who worked for IBM in the ’80s and early ’90s said the company routinely fell victim to “pricing death strategy”–a reluctance to lower prices below cost, even on products that weren’t selling–to avoid what the government would call predatory pricing. By the mid-’80s, the company was in bad shape. The antitrust troubles, combined with ill-timed product failures such as the Future System, pinched revenues. The company began a nearly decade-long financial slide. In retrospect, the antitrust case against IBM seemed laughable.

IBM had become the victim of a classic “disruptive technology” paradigm shift that few could have foreseen in 1969.  As Peter Pitsch noted in his 1996 PFF book The Innovation Age, “In 1981 the Department of Justice was still pressing their case against IBM while market forces were about to lay waste to the company.” Pitsch continued:

IBM certainly did not expect to see PCs erode the market share and profitability of its venerable mainframe computers, but the fall of the old “big iron” machines was rapid and spectacular. The revenue of IBM’s mainframe unit fell from roughly $9 billion in 1990 to an estimated $4.5 billion in 1994… [T]he parties destined to become players in the PC revolution were unknown when the PC was introduced, and the experts’ predictions of a much-ballyhooed computer face-off between IBM and AT&T never materialized. Innovative companies that did not exist at the beginning of the revolution rose rapidly. Few people had ever heard of a small company named Microsoft. Nor had they heard of Intel, Novell, Compaq, Dell, or Netscape.

Pitsch went on to summarize how IBM’s manufacturing capacity was slashed in the years that followed and also notes that, astonishingly, “in the space of five years after 1987, IBM lost two thirds of its market value — more than $70 billion.”  In sum, new marketplace innovation and competition handled the short-term market power concern that antitrust regulators had about Big Blue.  Pitsch goes on to explain what the antitrust regulators missed:

A dominant firm can lose its “King of the Hill” status in two ways. First, if it does not continually improve, it will lose market share and profits to low-cost imitators. For example, the ability of low-end PC manufacturers to make IBM clones fostered robust price competition in the PC market. Second, today’s market leaders must worry that some established and well-financed competitor or possibly an upstart produce a technical breakthrough that will displace them. This situation reflects [the] fact that gains from innovation are so powerful and beneficial to consumers that they outweigh the higher prices dominant firms can charge. Indeed, attempts to eliminate these high profits by regulating prices would almost certainly disserve consumers even if the regulations dampened the incentives for innovation only slightly.

What Pitsch is talking about here is dynamic competition, not the static competition. And what the history of IBM shows is the power of evolutionary dynamism in action.  Markets are a learning experience; a “discovery process” as Austrian economists have taught us. Those of us who believe in dynamic competition and evolutionary dynamism see markets in a constant state of flux and expect that sub-optimal market developments or configurations are exactly the spark that incentivizes new form of market entry, innovation, price competition, and so on. Experimentation and evolution happen if you let them happen.

Others, however – and I suspect this includes Prof. Wu – would argue that’s not good enough. They want action, and they want it now!  Every short-term hiccup deserves a policy response in the name of protecting “the public interest,” however they define it through regulation.  But what about the costs and trade-offs associated with early, preemptive, or prescriptive regulation?  What of the danger of regulation steering markets in unnatural or inefficient directions? The possibility of picking technological winners and losers, or technological lock-in?  The possibility of regulatory capture and the creation of a special interest, lobbying hell inside the Beltway?

Somehow these factors often go out the window for those who subscribe to the more static, snapshot-oriented view of markets and competition that is so prevalent in cyber-collectivist circles.  But the cyber-libertarian can’t let those go.  Those factors lie at the core of the problem, we would argue. Actions have consequences. Regulations have costs. And those costs typically outweigh the benefits of preemptive strikes by the State.

And that, at root, is what separates the cyber-libertarian and cyber-collectivist worldviews when it comes to concerns about “market power” and what to do about it.

[Jump to Part 6 in the series.]

Reading the 2002 edited volume, From 0 to 1: An Authoritative History of Modern Computing, I came across an interesting history of the first software patent—a business history, as opposed to a legal history. I hadn’t seen this anywhere before, so I’ll recount it here.

Luanne Johnson, president (now co-chair) of the Software History Center, tells the story of Martin A. Goetz at Applied Data Research (ADR), a Princeton, New Jersey company founded in 1959 to sell computer programming services.

In 1964, computer manufacturer RCA approached ADR about writing a flowcharting program that RCA would provide to users of its RCA 501 computer at no cost. ADR designed and wrote the program, AUTOFLOW, and offered it to RCA for $25,000. But RCA didn’t want it at that price. Marty Goetz then went to work on a different approach to recouping the $10,000 his company had laid out to write AUTOFLOW.

There were only hundreds of companies using the RCA 501, to whom he might have sold directly. So, seeing a larger market among users of the IBM 1401, Goetz and his colleagues re-wrote AUTOFLOW for that computer. They ultimately produced superior flowcharting software to what IBM offered its customers. AUTOFLOW was capable of flowcharting the logical sequence of existing software, easing the design of software to compliment what was already in use on IBM machines. Writes Johnson:

AUTOFLOW sold quite well. As a matter of fact, considering that in 1965 no one had ever sold a significant number of copies of a software product for a price, it sold remarkably well. But what should have been a natural market for thousands of potential customers was severely constrained by the belief on the part of those customers that the product that ADR was selling for $2,400 could be gotten for free from IBM. * * * Over and over again, as a result of a sales presentation on AUTOFLOW, the potential customer would call his IBM account representative and ask when they were going to upgrade their program to do what AUTOFLOW did. . . . [T]he more aggressively that ADR sold AUTOFLOW, the greater the likelihood became that IBM would produce a product with comparable functionality and offer it for free, effectively putting ADR out of the software products business. Goetz took defensive action. He applied for a patent on AUTOFLOW and served notice on IBM that they might be violating ADR’s patent application if they produced an automatic flowcharting program.

Goetz’s ADR became the first recipient of a patent on software in 1968, “a clear turning-point in the recognition of software as a product, not a service.” With attorney Mort Jacobs, Goetz determined that their software should be licensed rather than sold to customers to prevent them sharing programs, “a customary and accepted practice” at the time.

This anecdote doesn’t prove anything, but it offers a lot of food for thought and discussion. To wit:

• Johnson’s account favors today’s software patenting status quo. She refers to the “natural market” for ADR’s software, implying that IBM’s practice of writing and giving away software would have been an unnatural influence. She portrays Goetz’ pursuit of a patent as “defensive,” though there’s an equally plausible interpretation in which IBM plays defense against an insurgent by writing software to match its offering. Blocking that option by seeking a patent would part of going “on offense.” Finally, Johnson characterizes the ADR patent as “recognition” of what she appears to take as the right outcome.
• ADR’s 1968 patent on AUTOFLOW was a close predecessor to the 1969 antitrust suit against IBM, which resulted in the unbundling of hardware, customer training, system engineering, and software. Had these things not happened, the separation of the computer business from software, which we take for granted today, may not have happened as quickly. It would be a mistake to assume that software would not have emerged as a separate business line, though. The personal computer grew from very different roots than the IBM computers of the late 60s and early 70s. I think there would still be a software market separate from computers today even if the software patent and the federal government’s antitrust action against IBM had not happened. Software-writing insurgents would have had to work that much harder to make inroads, and computer companies that much harder to keep them out—all to the benefit of consumers.
• I was most interested to see that the first use of software patenting was to change the balance of power in the marketplace for existing software. The reward offered by patenting is not what caused ADR to produce AUTOFLOW, which would have been consistent with the theoretical foundations of intellectual property law. Goetz and ADR used patent to gain competitive advantage on a larger, better established rival in the market for an existing product. We may sympathize with the little guy, of course—David to IBM’s Goliath—but established firms today almost certainly make more use of software patenting as a tool of competitive advantage than upstart start-ups. Rebalancing the market for existing products, of course, is not what intellectual property law is supposed to do.

You can comment or blog elsewhere about this story or my observations on it. I don’t spend a lot of time on software patents, but I do like to collect evidence about that policy when it makes itself available.

Great piece in Wired by Fred Vogelstein asking “Why Is Obama’s Top Antitrust Cop Gunning for Google?” It paints a pretty good picture of the coming antitrust ordeal that Google is likely to be subjected to by the Obama Administration. And, as usual, I couldn’t agree more with the skepticism that Eric Goldman of Santa Clara University Law School articulates when he notes: “The problem for antitrust in high tech is that the environment changes so rapidly. Someone who looks strong today won’t necessarily be strong tomorrow.”  More importantly, as Vogelstein’s article notes, we’ve been down this path before with less than stellar results when you look at the IBM investigation in the 70s and the Microsoft case from the 90s (a fiasco that is still going on today):

After the government initiated its case against IBM, the company spent two decades scrupulously avoiding even the appearance of impropriety. By the time the suit was dropped in the early 1980s, company lawyers were weighing in on practically every meeting and scrutinizing every innovation, guarding against anything that could be seen as anticompetitive behavior. A decade later, innovation at Big Blue had all but ceased, and it had no choice but to shrink its mainframe business. (It has since reinvented itself as a services company.) Microsoft took the opposite approach. Gates and company were defiant, to the point of stonewalling regulators and refusing to take the charges seriously. “Once we accept even self-imposed regulation, the culture of the company will change in bad ways,” one former Microsoft executive told Wired at the time. “It would crush our competitive spirit.” Gates put it even more directly: “The minute we start worrying too much about antitrust, we become IBM.” Microsoft’s hostility to the very idea of regulation resulted in several avoidable missteps—including remarkably antagonistic deposition testimony from Gates—that ultimately helped the DOJ rally support for its ongoing antitrust suit against the company. Although Microsoft ultimately settled, the public beating appears to have taken a toll on the company, which has been unable to maintain its reputation for innovation and industry leadership.

Read the whole article for all the gory details.  This is going to be the biggest antitrust case of all-time once it is finally launched and I feel confident predicting that it will make many lawyers and consultants very, very rich while doing absolutely nothing to help consumer welfare.  But perhaps those DOJ lawyers can at least get Google to lower the prices for all those services they offer. Oh, wait, they’re all free.  But don’t worry, I’m sure Beltway bureaucrats will do a great job of running something as complex as search algorithms and online advertising markets.  Right.