The DOJ’s recent press release on the Google/Motorola, Rockstar Bidco, and Apple/ Novell transactions struck me as a bit odd when I read it.  As I’ve now had a bit of time to digest it, I’ve grown to really dislike it.  For those who have not followed Jorge Contreras had an excellent summary of events at Patently-O.

For those of us who have been following the telecom patent battles, something remarkable happened a couple of weeks ago.  On February 7, the Wall St. Journal reported that, back in November, Apple sent a letter[1] to the European Telecommunications Standards Institute (ETSI) setting forth Apple’s position regarding its commitment to license patents essential to ETSI standards.  In particular, Apple’s letter clarified its interpretation of the so-called “FRAND” (fair, reasonable and non-discriminatory) licensing terms that ETSI participants are required to use when licensing standards-essential patents.  As one might imagine, the actual scope and contours of FRAND licenses have puzzled lawyers, regulators and courts for years, and past efforts at clarification have never been very successful.  The next day, on February 8, Google released a letter[2] that it sent to the Institute for Electrical and Electronics Engineers (IEEE), ETSI and several other standards organizations.  Like Apple, Google sought to clarify its position on FRAND licensing.  And just hours after Google’s announcement, Microsoft posted a statement of “Support for Industry Standards”[3] on its web site, laying out its own gloss on FRAND licensing.  For those who were left wondering what instigated this flurry of corporate “clarification”, the answer arrived a few days later when, on February 13, the Antitrust Division of the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) released its decision[4] to close the investigation of three significant patent-based transactions:  the acquisition of Motorola Mobility by Google, the acquisition of a large patent portfolio formerly held by Nortel Networks by “Rockstar Bidco” (a group including Microsoft, Apple, RIM and others), and the acquisition by Apple of certain Linux-related patents formerly held by Novell.  In its decision, the DOJ noted with approval the public statements by Apple and Microsoft, while expressing some concern with Google’s FRAND approach.  The European Commission approved Google’s acquisition of Motorola Mobility on the same day. To understand the significance of the Apple, Microsoft and Google FRAND statements, some background is in order.  The technical standards that enable our computers, mobile phones and home entertainment gear to communicate and interoperate are developed by corps of “volunteers” who get together in person and virtually under the auspices of standards-development organizations (SDOs).  These SDOs include large, international bodies such as ETSI and IEEE, as well as smaller consortia and interest groups.  The engineers who do the bulk of the work, however, are not employees of the SDOs (which are usually thinly-staffed non-profits), but of the companies who plan to sell products that implement the standards: the Apples, Googles, Motorolas and Microsofts of the world.  Should such a company obtain a patent covering the implementation of a standard, it would be able to exert significant leverage over the market for products that implemented the standard.  In particular, if a patent holder were to obtain, or even threaten to obtain, an injunction against manufacturers of competing standards-compliant products, either the standard would become far less useful, or the market would experience significant unanticipated costs.  This phenomenon is what commentators have come to call “patent hold-up”.  Due to the possibility of hold-up, most SDOs today require that participants in the standards-development process disclose their patents that are necessary to implement the standard and/or commit to license those patents on FRAND terms.

As Contreras notes, an important part of these FRAND commitments offered by Google, Motorola, and Apple related to the availability of injunctive relief (do go see the handy chart in Contreras’ post laying out the key differences in the commitments).  Contreras usefully summarizes the three statements’ positions on injunctive relief:

In their February FRAND statements, Apple and Microsoft each commit not to seek injunctions on the basis of their standards-essential patents.  Google makes a similar commitment, but qualifies it in typically lawyerly fashion (Google’s letter is more than 3 single-spaced pages in length, while Microsoft’s simple statement occupies about a quarter of a page).  In this case, Google’s careful qualifications (injunctive relief might be possible if the potential licensee does not itself agree to refrain from seeking an injunction, if licensing negotiations extended beyond a reasonable period, and the like) worked against it.  While the DOJ applauds Apple’s and Microsoft’s statements “that they will not seek to prevent or exclude rivals’ products form the market”, it views Google’s commitments as “less clear”.  The DOJ thus “continues to have concerns about the potential inappropriate use of [standards-essential patents] to disrupt competition”.

Its worth reading the DOJ’s press release on this point — specifically, that while the DOJ found that none of the three transactions itself raised competitive concerns or was substantially likely to lessen the competition, the DOJ expressed general concerns about the relationship between these firms’ market positions and ability to use the threat of injunctive relief to hold up rivals:

Apple’s and Google’s substantial share of mobile platforms makes it more likely that as the owners of additional SEPs they could hold up rivals, thus harming competition and innovation.  For example, Apple would likely benefit significantly through increased sales of its devices if it could exclude Android-based phones from the market or raise the costs of such phones through IP-licenses or patent litigation.  Google could similarly benefit by raising the costs of, or excluding, Apple devices because of the revenues it derives from Android-based devices. The specific transactions at issue, however, are not likely to substantially lessen competition.  The evidence shows that Motorola Mobility has had a long and aggressive history of seeking to capitalize on its intellectual property and has been engaged in extended disputes with Apple, Microsoft and others.  As Google’s acquisition of Motorola Mobility is unlikely to materially alter that policy, the division concluded that transferring ownership of the patents would not substantially alter current market dynamics.  This conclusion is limited to the transfer of ownership rights and not the exercise of those transferred rights. With respect to Apple/Novell, the division concluded that the acquisition of the patents from CPTN, formerly owned by Novell, is unlikely to harm competition.  While the patents Apple would acquire are important to the open source community and to Linux-based software in particular, the OIN, to which Novell belonged, requires its participating patent holders to offer a perpetual, royalty-free license for use in the “Linux-system.”  The division investigated whether the change in ownership would permit Apple to avoid OIN commitments and seek royalties from Linux users.  The division concluded it would not, a conclusion made easier by Apple’s commitment to honor Novell’s OIN licensing commitments. In its analysis of the transactions, the division took into account the fact that during the pendency of these investigations, Apple, Google and Microsoft each made public statements explaining their respective SEP licensing practices.  Both Apple and Microsoft made clear that they will not seek to prevent or exclude rivals’ products from the market in exercising their SEP rights.

What’s problematic about a competition enforcement agency extracting promises not to enforce lawfully obtained property rights during merger review, outside the formal consent process, and in transactions that do not raise competitive concerns themselves?  For starters, the DOJ’s expression about competitive concerns about “hold up” obfuscate an important issue.  In Rambus the D.C. Circuit clearly held that not all forms of what the DOJ describes here as patent holdup violate the antitrust laws in the first instance.  Both appellate courts discussion patent holdup as an antitrust violation have held the patent holder must deceptively induce the SSO to adopt the patented technology.  Rambus makes clear — as I’ve discussed — that a firm with lawfully acquired monopoly power who merely raises prices does not violate the antitrust laws.  The proposition that all forms of patent holdup are antitrust violations is dubious.  For an agency to extract concessions that go beyond the scope of the antitrust laws at all, much less through merger review of transactions that do not raise competitive concerns themselves, raises serious concerns.

Here is what the DOJ says about Google’s commitment:

If adhered to in practice, these positions could significantly reduce the possibility of a hold up or use of an injunction as a threat to inhibit or preclude innovation and competition. Google’s commitments have been less clear.  In particular, Google has stated to the IEEE and others on Feb. 8, 2012, that its policy is to refrain from seeking injunctive relief for the infringement of SEPs against a counter-party, but apparently only for disputes involving future license revenues, and only if the counterparty:  forgoes certain defenses such as challenging the validity of the patent; pays the full disputed amount into escrow; and agrees to a reciprocal process regarding injunctions.  Google’s statement therefore does not directly provide the same assurance as the other companies’ statements concerning the exercise of its newly acquired patent rights.  Nonetheless, the division determined that the acquisition of the patents by Google did not substantially lessen competition, but how Google may exercise its patents in the future remains a significant concern.

No doubt the DOJ statement is accurate and the DOJ’s concerns about patent holdup are genuine.  But that’s not the point.

The question of the appropriate role for injunctions and damages in patent infringement litigation is a complex one.  While many scholars certainly argue that the use of injunctions facilitates patent hold up and threatens innovation.  There are serious debates to be had about whether more vigorous antitrust enforcement of the contractual relationships between patent holders and standard setting organization (SSOs) would spur greater innovation.   The empirical evidence suggesting patent holdup is a pervasive problem is however, at best, quite mixed.  Further, others argue that the availability of injunctions is not only a fundamental aspect of our system of property rights, but also from an economic perspective, that the power of the injunctions facilitates efficient transacting by the parties.  For example, some contend that the power to obtain injunctive relief for infringement within the patent thicket results in a “cold war” of sorts in which the threat is sufficient to induce cross-licensing by all parties.  Surely, this is not first best.  But that isn’t the relevant question.

There are other more fundamental problems with the notion of patent holdup as an antitrust concern.  Kobayashi & Wright also raise concerns with the theoretical case for antitrust enforcement of patent holdup on several grounds.  One is that high probability of detection of patent holdup coupled with antitrust’s treble damages makes overdeterrence highly likely.  Another is that alternative remedies such as contract and the patent doctrine of equitable estoppel render the marginal benefits of antitrust enforcement trivial or negative in this context.  Froeb, Ganglmair & Werden raise similar points.   Suffice it to say that the debate on the appropriate scope of antitrust enforcement in patent holdup is ongoing as a general matter; there is certainly no consensus with regard to economic theory or empirical evidence that stripping the availability of injunctive relief from patent holders entering into contractual relationships with SSOs will enhance competition or improve consumer welfare.  It is quite possible that such an intervention would chill competition, participation in SSOs, and the efficient contracting process potentially facilitated by the availability of injunctive relief.

The policy debate I describe above is an important one.  Many of the questions at the center of that complex debate are not settled as a matter of economic theory, empirics, or law.  This post certainly has no ambitions to resolve them here; my goal is a much more modest one.  The DOJs policymaking efforts through the merger review process raise serious issues.  I would hope that all would agree — regardless of where they stand on the patent holdup debate — that the idea that these complex debates be hammered out in merger review at the DOJ because the DOJ happens to have a number of cases involving patent portfolios is a foolish one for several reasons.

First, it is unclear the DOJ could have extracted these FRAND concessions through proper merger review.  The DOJ apparently agreed that the transactions did not raise serious competitive concerns.   The pressure imposed by the DOJ upon the parties to make the commitments to the SSOs not to pursue injunctive relief as part of a FRAND commitment outside of the normal consent process raises serious concerns.  The imposition of settlement conditions far afield from the competitive consequences of the merger itself is something we do see from antitrust enforcement agencies in other countries quite frequently, but this sort of behavior burns significant reputational capital with the rest of the world when our agencies go abroad to lecture on the importance of keeping antitrust analysis consistent, predictable, and based upon the economic fundamentals of the transaction at hand.

Second, the DOJ Antitrust Division does not alone have comparative advantage in determining the optimal use of injunctions versus damages in the patent system.

Third, appearances here are quite problematic.  Given that the DOJ did not appear to have significant competitive concerns with the transactions, one can create the following narrative of events without too much creative effort: (1) the DOJ team has theoretical priors that injunctive relief is a significant competitive problem, (2) the DOJ happens to have these mergers in front of it pending review from a couple of firms likely to be repeat players in the antitrust enforcement game, (3) the DOJ asks the firms to make these concessions despite the fact that they have little to do with the conventional antitrust analysis of the transactions, under which they would have been approved without condition.

The more I think about the use of the merger review process to extract concessions from patent holders in the form of promises not to enforce property rights which they would otherwise be legally entitled to, the more the DOJ’s actions appear inappropriate.  The stakes are high here both in terms of identifying patent and competition rules that will foster rather than hamper innovation, but also with respect to compromising the integrity of merger review through the imposition of non-merger related conditions we are more akin to seeing from the FCC, states, or less well-developed antitrust regimes.

[Cross posted at Truth on the Market]

[Cross posted at Truthonthemarket.com]

Tomorrow is the deadline for Eric Schmidt to send his replies to the Senate Judiciary Committee’s follow up questions from his appearance at a hearing on Google antitrust issues last month.  At the hearing, not surprisingly, search neutrality was a hot topic, with representatives from the likes of Yelp and Nextag, as well as Expedia’s lawyer, Tom Barnett (that’s Tom Barnett (2011), not Tom Barnett (2006-08)), weighing in on Google’s purported bias.  One serious problem with the search neutrality/search bias discussions to date has been the dearth of empirical evidence concerning so-called search bias and its likely impact upon consumers.  Hoping to remedy this, I posted a study this morning at the ICLE website both critiquing one of the few, existing pieces of empirical work on the topic (by Ben Edelman, Harvard economist) as well as offering up my own, more expansive empirical analysis.  Chris Sherman at Search Engine Land has a great post covering the study.  The title of his article pretty much says it all:  “Bing More Biased Than Google; Google Not Behaving Anti-competitively.”

One clarification is in order.  The  Search Engine Land piece quotes Geoff responding to the author indicating that the research was undertaken independently.  It’s not clear from the way Sherman presents it in the article, but Geoff did acknowledge (as does the disclosure in the paper itself) that Google supports ICLE.  However, as Sherman notes, although the work was indirectly supported by Google, Google had no hand in the conception or execution of the project.  For that I’m the only one to blame, unfortunately.

Following is a summary of the study from the ICLE website.  I plan to blog about the results and their implications in the coming days in a series of posts.

Google has been the subject of persistent claims that its organic search results are improperly “biased” toward its own content.  Among the most influential is an empirical study released earlier this year by Benjamin Edelman and Benjamin Lockwood, claiming that Google favors its own content “significantly more than others.”  The authors conclude in their study that Google’s search results are problematic and deserving of antitrust scrutiny because of competitive harm.

A new report released by the International Center for Law & Economics and authored by Joshua Wright, Professor of Law and Economics at George Mason University, critiques, replicates, and extends the study, finding Edelman & Lockwood’s claim of Google’s unique bias inaccurate and misleading. Although frequently cited for it, the Edelman & Lockwod study fails to support any claim of consumer harm — or call for antitrust action — arising from Google’s practices.

Prof. Wright’s analysis finds own-content bias is actually an infrequent phenomenon, and Google references its own content more favorably than other search engines far less frequently than does Bing:

• In the replication of Edelman & Lockwood, Google refers to its own content in its first page of results when its rivals do not for only 7.9% of the queries, whereas Bing does so nearly twice as often (13.2%).
• Again using Edelman & Lockwood’s own data, neither Bing nor Google demonstrates much bias when considering Microsoft or Google content, respectively, referred to on the first page of search results.
• In our more robust analysis of a large, random sample of search queries we find that Bing generally favors Microsoft content more frequently—and far more prominently—than Google favors its own content.
• Google references own content in its first results position when no other engine does in just 6.7% of queries; Bing does so over twice as often (14.3%).

The results suggest that this so-called bias is an efficient business practice, as economists have long understood, and consistent with competition rather than the foreclosure of competition. One necessary condition of the anticompetitive theories of own-content bias raised by Google’s rivals is that the bias must be sufficient in magnitude to exclude rival search engines from achieving efficient scale. A corollary of this condition is that the bias must actually be directed toward Google´s rivals. That Google displays less own-content bias than its closest rival, and that such bias is nonetheless relatively infrequent, demonstrates that this condition is not met, suggesting that intervention aimed at “debiasing” would likely harm, rather than help, consumers.

[I am participating in an online “debate” at the American Constitution Society with Professor Ben Edelman.  The debate consists of an opening statement and concluding responses.  Professor Edelman’s opening statement is here.  I have also cross-posted the opening statement at Truthonthemarket and Tech Liberation Front. This is my closing statement, which is also cross-posted at Truthonthemarket.]

Professor Edelman’s opening post does little to support his case.  Instead, it reflects the same retrograde antitrust I criticized in my first post.

Edelman’s understanding of antitrust law and economics appears firmly rooted in the 1960s approach to antitrust in which enforcement agencies, courts, and economists vigorously attacked novel business arrangements without regard to their impact on consumers.  Judge Learned Hand’s infamous passage in the Alcoa decision comes to mind as an exemplar of antitrust’s bad old days when the antitrust laws demanded that successful firms forego opportunities to satisfy consumer demand.  Hand wrote:

we can think of no more effective exclusion than progressively to embrace each new opportunity as it opened, and to face every newcomer with new capacity already geared into a great organization, having the advantage of experience, trade connections and the elite of personnel.

Antitrust has come a long way since then.  By way of contrast, today’s antitrust analysis of alleged exclusionary conduct begins with (ironically enough) the U.S. v. Microsoft decision.  Microsoft emphasizes the difficulty of distinguishing effective competition from exclusionary conduct; but it also firmly places “consumer welfare” as the lodestar of the modern approach to antitrust:

Whether any particular act of a monopolist is exclusionary, rather than merely a form of vigorous competition, can be difficult to discern: the means of illicit exclusion, like the means of legitimate competition, are myriad.  The challenge for an antitrust court lies in stating a general rule for distinguishing between exclusionary acts, which reduce social welfare, and competitive acts, which increase it.  From a century of case law on monopolization under § 2, however, several principles do emerge.  First, to be condemned as exclusionary, a monopolist’s act must have an “anticompetitive effect.”  That is, it must harm the competitive process and thereby harm consumers.  In contrast, harm to one or more competitors will not suffice.

Nearly all antitrust commentators agree that the shift to consumer-welfare focused analysis has been a boon for consumers.  Unfortunately, Edelman’s analysis consists largely of complaints that would have satisfied courts and agencies in the 1960s but would not do so now that the focus has turned to consumer welfare rather than indirect complaints about market structure or the fortunes of individual rivals.

From the start, in laying out his basic case against Google, Edelman invokes antitrust concepts that are simply inapt for the facts and then goes on to apply them in a manner inconsistent with the modern consumer-welfare-oriented framework described above:

In antitrust parlance, this is tying: A user who wants only Google Search, but not Google’s other services, will be disappointed.  Instead, any user who wants Google Search is forced to receive Google’s other services too.  Google’s approach also forecloses competition: Other sites cannot compete on their merits for a substantial portion of the market – consumers who use Google to find information – because Google has kept those consumers for itself.

There are two significant errors here.  First, Edelman claims to be interested in protecting users who want only Google Search but not its other services will be disappointed.  I have no doubt such consumers exist.  Some proof that they exist is that a service has already been developed to serve them.  Professor Edelman, meet Googleminusgoogle.com.  Across the top the page reads: “Search with Google without getting results from Google sites such as Knol, Blogger and YouTube.”  In antitrust parlance, this is not tying after all.  The critical point, however, is that user preferences are being satisfied as one would expect to arise from competition.

The second error, as I noted in my first post, is to condemn vertical integration as inherently anticompetitive.  It is here that the retrograde character of Professor Edelman’s analysis (and other critics of Google, to be fair) shines brightest.  It reflects a true disconnect between the 1960s approach to antitrust which focused exclusively upon market structure and impact upon rival websites; impact upon consumers was nowhere to be found.  That Google not only produces search results but also owns some of the results that are searched is not a problem cognizable by modern antitrust.  Edelman himself—appropriately—describes Google and its competitors as “information services.”  Google is not merely a URL finder.  Consumers demand more than that and competition forces search engines to deliver.  It offers value to users (and thus it can offer users to advertisers) by helping them find information in increasingly useful ways.  Most users “want Google Search” to the exclusion of Google’s “other services” (and, if they do, all they need do is navigate over to http://googleminusgoogle.com/ (even in a Chrome browser) and they can have exactly that).  But the critical point is that Google’s “other services” are methods of presenting information to consumers, just like search.  As the web and its users have evolved, and as Google has innovated to keep up with the evolving demands of consumers, it has devised or employed other means than simply providing links to a set of URLs to provide the most relevant information to its users.  The 1960s approach to antitrust condemns this as anticompetitive foreclosure; the modern version recognizes it as innovation, a form of competition that benefits consumers.

Edelman (and other critics, including a number of Senators at last month’s hearing) hearken back to the good old days and suggest that any deviation from Google’s technology or business model of the past is an indication of anticompetitive conduct:

The Google of 2004 promised to help users “leave its website as quickly as possible” while showing, initially, zero ads.  But times have changed.  Google has modified its site design to encourage users to linger on other Google properties, even when competing services have more or better information.  And Google now shows as many fourteen ads on a page.

It is hard to take seriously an argument that turns on criticizing a company simply for looking different than it did seven years ago.  Does anybody remember what search results looked like 7 years ago?  A theory of antitrust liability that would condemn a firm for investing billions of dollars in research and product development, constantly evolving its product to meet consumer demand, taking advantage of new technology, and developing its business model to increase profitability should not be taken seriously.  This is particularly true where, as here, every firm in the industry has followed a similar course, adopting the same or similar innovations.  I encourage readers to try a few queries on http://www.bing-vs-google.com/– where you can get side by side comparisons – in order to test whether the evolution of search results and innovation to meet consumer preferences is really a Google-specific thing or an industry wide phenomenon consistent with competition.  Conventional antitrust analysis holds that when conduct is engaged in not only by allegedly dominant firms, but also by every other firm in an industry, that conduct is presumptively efficient, not anticompetitive.

The main thrust of my critique is that Edelman and other Google critics rely on an outdated antitrust framework in which consumers play little or no role.  Rather than a consumer-welfare based economic critique consistent with the modern approach, these critics (as Edelman does in his opening statement) turn to a collection of anecdotes and “gotcha” statements from company executives.  It is worth correcting a few of those items here, although when we’ve reached the point where identifying a firm’s alleged abuse is a function of defining what a “confirmed” fax is, we’ve probably reached the point of decreasing marginal returns.  Rest assured that a series of (largely inaccurate) anecdotes about Google’s treatment of particular websites or insignificant contract terms is wholly insufficient to meet the standard of proof required to make a case against the company under the Sherman Act or even the looser Federal Trade Commission Act.

• It appears to be completely inaccurate to say that “[a]n unsatisfied advertiser must complain to Google by ‘first class mail or air mail or overnight courier’ with a copy by ‘confirmed facsimile.’”  A quick search, even on Bing, leads one to this page, indicating that complaints may be submitted via web form.
• It is likewise inaccurate to claim that “advertisers are compelled to accept whatever terms Google chooses to impose.  For example, an advertiser seeking placement through Google’s premium Search Network partners (like AOL and The New York Times) must also accept placement through the entire Google Search Network which includes all manner . . . undesirable placements.”  In actuality, Google offers a “Site and Category Exclusion Tool” that seems to permit advertisers to tailor their placements to exclude exactly these “undesirable placements.”
• “Meanwhile, a user searching for restaurants, hotels, or other local merchants sees Google Places results with similar prominence, pushing other information services to locations users are unlikely to notice.”  I have strived in vain to enter a search for a restaurant, hotel, or the like into Google that yielded results that effectively hid “other information services” from my notice, but for some of my searches, Google Places did come up first or second (and for others it showed up further down the page).
• Edelman has noted elsewhere that, sometimes, for some of the searches he has tested, the most popular result on Google (as well, I should add, on other, non-“dominant” sites) is not the first, Google-owned result, but instead the second.  He cites this as evidence that Google is cooking the books, favoring its own properties when users actually prefer another option.  It actually doesn’t demonstrate that, but let’s accept the claim for the sake of argument.  Notice what his example also demonstrates: that users who prefer the second result to the first are perfectly capable of finding it and clicking on it.  If this is foreclosure, Google is exceptionally bad at it.

The crux of Edelman’s complaint seems to be that Google is competing in ways that respond to consumer preferences.  This is precisely what antitrust seeks to encourage, and we would not want a set of standards that chilled competition because of a competitor’s success.  Having been remarkably successful in serving consumers’ search demands in a quickly evolving market, it would be perverse for the antitrust laws to then turn upon Google without serious evidence that it had, in fact, actually harmed consumers.

Untethered from consumer welfare analysis, antitrust threatens to re-orient itself to the days when it was used primarily as a weapon against rivals and thus imposed a costly tax on consumers.  It is perhaps telling that Microsoft, Expedia, and a few other Google competitors are the primary movers behind the effort to convict the company.  But modern antitrust, shunning its inglorious past, requires actual evidence of anticompetitive effect before condemning conduct, particularly in fast-moving, innovative industries.  Neither Edelman nor any of Google’s other critics, offer any.

During the heady days of the Microsoft antitrust case, the big question was whether modern antitrust would be able to keep up with quickly evolving markets.  The treatment of the proferred case against Google is an important test of the proposition (endorsed by the Antitrust Modernization Commission and others) that today’s antitrust is capable of consistent and coherent application in innovative, high-tech markets.  An enormous amount is at stake.  Faced with the high stakes and ever-evolving novelty of high-tech markets, antitrust will only meet this expectation if it remains grounded and focused on the core principle of competitive effects and consumer harm.  Without it, antitrust will devolve back into the laughable and anti-consumer state of affairs of the 1960s—and we will all pay for it.

[I am participating in an online “debate” at the American Constitution Society with Professor Ben Edelman.  The debate consists of an opening statement and concluding responses.  Professor Edelman’s opening statement is here.  I have also cross-posted this opening statement at Truthonthemarket.]

The theoretical antitrust case against Google reflects a troubling disconnect between the state of our technology and the state of our antitrust economics.  Google’s is a 2011 high tech market being condemned by 1960s economics.  Of primary concern (although there are a lot of things to be concerned about, and my paper with Geoffrey Manne, “If Search Neutrality Is the Answer, What’s the Question?,” canvasses the problems in much more detail) is the treatment of so-called search bias (whereby Google’s ownership and alleged preference for its own content relative to rivals’ is claimed to be anticompetitive) and the outsized importance given to complaints by competitors and individual web pages rather than consumer welfare in condemning this bias.

The recent political theater in the Senate’s hearings on Google displayed these problems prominently, with the first half of the hearing dedicated to Senators questioning Google’s Eric Schmidt about search bias and the second half dedicated to testimony from and about competitors and individual websites allegedly harmed by Google.  Very little, if any, attention was paid to the underlying economics of search technology, consumer preferences, and the ultimate impact of differentiation in search rankings upon consumers.

So what is the alleged problem?  Well, in the first place, the claim is that there is bias.  Proving that bias exists — that Google favors its own maps over MapQuest’s, for example — would be a necessary precondition for proving that the conduct causes anticompetitive harm, but let us be clear that the existence of bias alone is not sufficient to show competitive harm, nor is it even particularly interesting, at least viewed through the lens of modern antitrust economics.

In fact, economists have known for a very long time that favoring one’s own content — a form of “vertical” arrangement whereby the firm produces (and favors) both a product and one of its inputs — is generally procompetitive.  Vertically integrated firms may “bias” their own content in ways that increase output, just as other firms may do so by arrangement with others.  Economists since Nobel Laureate Ronald Coase have known — and have been reminded by Klein, Crawford & Alchian, as well as Nobel Laureate Oliver Williamson and many others — that firms may achieve by contract anything they could do within the boundaries of the firm.  The point is that, in the economics literature, it is well known that self-promotion in a vertical relationship can be either efficient or anticompetitive depending on the circumstances of the situation.  It is never presumptively problematic.  In fact, the empirical literature suggests that such relationships are almost always procompetitive and that restrictions imposed upon the abilities of firms to enter them generally reduce consumer welfare.  Procompetitive vertical integration is the rule; the rare exception (and the exception relevant to antitrust analysis) is the use of vertical arrangements to harm not just individual competitors, but competition, thus reducing consumer welfare.

One has to go back to the antitrust economics of the 1960s to find a literature — and a jurisprudence — espousing the notion that “bias” alone is inherently an antitrust problem.  This is why it is so disconcerting to find academics, politicians, and policy wags promoting such theories today on the basis that this favoritism harms competitors.  The relevant antitrust question is not whether there is bias but whether that bias is efficient.  Evidence that other search engines with much smaller market shares, and certainly without any market power, exhibit similar bias suggests that the practice certainly has some efficiency justifications.  Ignoring that possibility ignores nearly a half century of economic theory and empirical evidence.

It adds insult to injury to point to harm borne by competitors as justification for antitrust enforcement already built upon outdated, discredited economic notions.  The standard in antitrust jurisprudence (and antitrust economics) is harm to consumers.  When a monopolist restricts output and prices go up, harming consumers, it is a harm potentially cognizable by antitrust; but when Safeway brands, sells, and promotes its own products and the only identifiable harm is that Kraft sells less macaroni and cheese, it is not.

Understanding the competitive economics of vertical integration and vertical contractual arrangements is difficult because there are generally both anticompetitive and procompetitive theories of the conduct.  One must be very careful with the facts in these cases to avoid conflating harm to rivals arising from competition on the merits with harm to competition arising out of exclusionary conduct.  Misapplication of even this nuanced approach can generate significant consumer harm by prohibiting efficient, pro-consumer conduct that is wrongly determined to be the opposite and by reducing incentives for other firms to take risks and innovate for fear that they, too, will be wrongly condemned.

Professor Edelman has been prominent among Google’s critics calling for antitrust intervention.  Yet, unfortunately, he too has demonstrated a surprising inattention to this complexity and its very real anti-consumer consequences.  In an interview in Politico (login required), he suggests that we should simply prevent Google from vertically integrating:

I don’t think it’s out of the question given the complexity of what Google has built and its persistence in entering adjacent, ancillary markets.  A much simpler approach, if you like things that are simple, would be to disallow Google from entering these adjacent markets.  OK, you want to be dominant in search?  Stay out of the vertical business, stay out of content.

This sort of thinking implies that the harm suffered by competing content providers justifies preventing Google from adopting an entire class of common business relationships on the implicit assumption that competitor harm is relevant to antitrust economics and the ban on vertical integration is essentially costless.  Neither is true.  U.S. antitrust law requires a demonstration that consumers — not just rivals — will be harmed by a challenged practice.  But consumers’ interests are absent from this assessment on both sides — on the one hand by adopting harm to competitors rather than harm to consumers as a relevant antitrust standard and on the other by ignoring the hidden harm to consumers from blithely constraining potentially efficient business conduct.

Actual, measurable competitive effects are what matters for modern antitrust analysis, not presumptions about competitive consequences derived from the structure of a firm or harm to its competitors.  Unfortunately for its critics, in Google’s world, prices to consumers are zero, there is a remarkable amount of investment and innovation (not only from Google but also from competitors like Bing, Blekko, Expedia, and others), consumers are happy, and, significantly, Google is far less dominant than critics and senators suggest.  Facebook is now the most visited page on the Internet.  Many online marketers no longer view Google as the standard, but are instead increasingly looking to social media (like Facebook) as the key to advertisers’ success in attracting eyeballs on the Internet.  And at the end of the day, competition really is “just a click away” (OK, a few letters away) as Google has no control over users’ ability to employ other search engines, use other sources of information, or simply directly access content, all by typing a different URL into a browser.

Finally, even if there is a concern, there is the problem of what to do about it.  Even if Google’s critics were to demonstrate that bias is anticompetitive, it is relevant to any analysis that bias is hard to identify, that there is considerable disagreement among users over whether it is problematic in any given instance, that a remedy would be difficult to design and harder to enforce, and that the costs of being wrong are significant.

Tom Barnett — who was formerly in charge of the Antitrust Division at the DOJ and who now represents Expedia and vociferously criticizes Google (including at the Senate hearings in September) — has himself made this point, observing that:

No institution that enforces the antitrust laws is omniscient or perfect.  Among other things, antitrust enforcement agencies and courts lack perfect information about pertinent facts, including the impact of particular conduct on consumer welfare . . . . We face the risk of condemning conduct that is not harmful to competition . . . and the risk of failing to condemn conduct that does harm competition . . .

Condemning Google for developing Google Maps as a better form of search result than its original “ten blue links” reflects retrograde economics and a strange and costly preference for the status quo over innovation.  Doing so because it harms a competitor turns conventional antitrust analysis on its head with consumers bearing the cost in terms of reduced innovation and satisfaction.

[Cross posted at Truthonthemarket]

So, the AT&T / T-Mobile transaction gets more and more interesting.  Sprint has filed a complaint challenging the transaction.  I’ve been commenting on the weakness of the DOJ complaint and in particular, its heavy reliance on market structure to make inferences about competitive effects.  The heavy dose of structural presumption in the DOJ complaint — especially in light of the DOJ / FTC’s new Horizontal Merger Guidelines which stress reducing that emphasis because it is grounded in outdated economic thinking in favor of analysis of actual competitive effects — reads more like a 1960s complaint than a modern post-2010 Guidelines approach.

There is a question that jumps out here.  What does Sprint get for jumping into full litigation mode rather than free-riding upon the DOJ’s case?  They could certainly free-ride and retain some influence over the DOJ case with economic submissions.  The DOJ is not a passive plaintiff.  This is the DOJ of “reinvigorated” antitrust enforcement.  There is an even more obvious cost to getting involved.  The conventional antitrust wisdom requires skepticism of private suits by rivals for the reasons I discussed here.   Rivals often have a financial incentive to sue more efficient competitors.  Various substantive and procedural stands of antitrust attempt to minimize the costs of providing rivals with generous remedies and a private right of action under the antitrust laws.  Suffice it to say, a rival suit doesn’t get the same attention as one brought by the DOJ or FTC.

So why do it?

I think the answer is pretty clear.  There are at least two important inferences to draw from Sprint’s complaint.

The first is that it is a sign that the DOJ’s structure-based complaint is pretty weak sauce.  David Balto described the complaint as missing “the red meat.”  Its heavy on reliance on outdated structural presumptions, strays far from the intellectual foundations of the new Merger Guidelines, doesn’t acknowledge efficiencies, and has been embarrassingly shown up by the market reaction.  I certainly agree with Balto that the DOJ complaint isn’t the agency’s best work.  So, apparently did the market — with Sprint’s stock price surging instead of the decline predicted by various theories of competitive harm posited in the complaint.

Sprint, by filing this claim, reveals its view that the DOJ is not likely to prevail on the merits on those claims.  Or at a minimum that Sprint’s involvement increases the likelihood.  Given the skepticism about rival suits, I’m skeptical.  To reconcile these views one must read the Sprint complaint.  It heavily pushes an “exclusionary theory” of the merger (i.e. “vertical effects”) omitted by the DOJ in its own complaint.  The basic theory is that the post-merger firm will deprive rivals from access to backhaul or handsets.  I’ve argued that the exclusionary theory doesn’t fare much better in explaining the market reaction to the DOJ’s challenge.  But it at least has going for it that it can explain the Sprint’s stock price reaction: if the merger successfully prevents exclusion, it should improve outcomes for rivals.  The problem is that this explanation doesn’t square too nicely with the market reaction of other rivals likely to suffer from exclusion (smaller carriers) and big guys like Verizon who would benefit from watching AT&T bear the full cost of excluding rivals (an expensive strategy) while it reaped the benefits.

Thus, I think the second lesson is that its pretty clear that Sprint views the omission of these exclusionary theories as a critical weakness in the DOJ’s complaint — critical enough to take the relatively rare step of filing a separate private challenge.  Given the large increase in Sprint’s stock price in reaction to the news of challenge — it’s got a lot at stake here and it’s willing to spend some of that rather than free-riding on the DOJ challenge for the chance to prove it is right.  I remain skeptical; but it’s an interesting development nonetheless.

[Cross posted at Truthonthemarket]

I don’t think so.

Let’s start from the beginning.  In my last post, I pointed out that simple economic theory generates some pretty clear predictions concerning the impact of a merger on rival stock prices.  If a merger is results in a more efficient competitor, and more intense post-merger competition, rivals are made worse off while consumers benefit.  On the other hand, if a merger is is likely to result in collusion or a unilateral price increase, the rivals firms are made better off while consumers suffer.

I pointed to this graph of Sprint and Clearwire stock prices increasing dramatically upon announcement of the merger to illustrate the point that it appears rivals are doing quite well:

The WSJ reports the increases at 5.9% and 11.5%, respectively.  In reaction to the WSJ and other stories highlighting this market reaction to the DOJ complaint, I asked what I think is an important set of questions:

How many of the statements in the DOJ complaint, press release and analysis are consistent with this market reaction?  If the post-merger market would be less competitive than the status quo, as the DOJ complaint hypothesizes, why would the market reward Sprint and Clearwire for an increased likelihood of facing greater competition in the future?

A few of our always excellent commenters argued that the analysis above was either incomplete or incorrect.  My claim was that the dramatic increase in stock market prices of Sprint and Clearwire were more consistent with a procompetitive merger than the theories in the DOJ complaint.

Commenters raised three important points and I appreciate their thoughtful responses.

First, the procompetitive theory does not explain the change in all stock market prices.  For example, readers pointed out that Verizon’s stock barely ticked downward, while smaller carriers MetroPCS and Leap both fell (.8% and 2.3%, respectively, according to the WSJ).  The procompetitive theory, the commenters argued, implies that Verizon and these other rivals should move upward.

Second, they argue that perhaps an  exclusionary theory of the merger better explains these stock price reactions.  Indeed, the new 2010 Horizontal Merger Guidelines included (not without controversy) potential exclusionary effects (“Enhanced market power may also make it more likely that the merged entity can profitably and effectively engage in exclusionary conduct. “).  Rick Brunell of AAI writes:

Although the smaller carriers may gain in the short run due from a merger that raises prices, they also may lose in the long run due to its exclusionary effects, a theory that was front and center of Sprint’s opposition (and the smaller carriers’). Notably Verizon, which has no reason to fear exclusion and would have the most to lose if the merger were actually efficient, has not opposed the merger.”

Similarly, Matt Bodie writes:

Why wouldn’t the market’s reaction be a sign of this: (a) the AT&T/T-Mobile merger will give the new entity strong market power, (b) there are strong anticompetitive as well as efficiency gains from being bigger and having more market size, (c) the newly merged company would use that power to crush its weakest competitors, i.e. Sprint? After all, isn’t there a traditional story where monopolists cut prices to drive other competitors out, but then gradually raise price once their market power allows it, especially in industries with high barriers to entry?”

The basics of the exclusionary theory of the merger is that the anticompetitive harm is not coordination or unilateral price increases from the direct acquisition of market power, i.e. the elimination of competition from a close rival.  Rather, the exclusionary theory posits that the post-merger firm will have sufficient market power to exclude rivals from access to a critical input (e.g. backhaul) and, as Matt has it, “crush its weakest competitors.”  So to Matt, yes, there is that theory in antitrust.  But note that the post-merger share of the combined entity here would be nowhere close to traditional monopoly power standards required to make out a monopolization claim under Section 2 of the Sherman Act.  The new Guidelines do quasi-endorse the possibility of a Minority-Report like merger enforcement search for exclusion that doesn’t reach Section 2 standards post-merger, but might someday, but also needs to be stopped now.  But it is decidedly not standard in merger analysis. And this case is probably not a good test case for that theory; at least the DOJ thinks so.  But no, I don’t think the market reaction is reflecting concerns about exclusion.  More on that in a second.  But for now note that this is not simply a legal point.  While the law requires the demonstration of monopoly power for a Section 2 claim, the economic literature focusing upon exclusion also considers market power a necessary but not sufficient condition for competitive harm.  For the same reasons the exclusion claim would be rejected post-merger on legal grounds if we accept the market definition alleged by the DOJ, exclusion is unlikely as a matter of economics.

Put simply, the exclusionary theory’s proponents argue that it can explain the increase in Sprint’s stock price (reduced likelihood of future exclusion because of the DOJ challenge) and Verizon’s inconsequential reaction (it has “no reason to fear exclusion”).

Just so everybody is seeing the same thing — here is a chart with 5 days of trading including Verizon, Sprint, Clearwire, MetroPCS, Leap and the S&P 500.

Third, commenters argue that this simple analysis doesn’t account for other important factors.  NB writes:

Why did you choose Sprint particularly? Verizon, a larger and far more significant competitor, had its stock drop sharply in that same period you show Sprint “surging”. MetroPCS’s stock also dropped.So what does it mean when a weak competitor’s stock jumps but two other competitors who are doing well have their stock drop? Other than that there are clearly more factors in play here?

Enough questions; time for answers.

Why Didn’t I Include the Exclusionary Theory of Harm?

I plead guilty.  Or at least guilty with an explanation.  I didn’t discuss the possibility of exclusion and whether it would better explain these market reactions than the theory that the merger is efficient or anticompetitive because it will facilitate coordination or unilateral price increases.  As it turns out, however, the reason is that the post was motivated by the following question:

How many of the statements in the DOJ complaint, press release and analysis are consistent with this market reaction?

Turns out, I’m in pretty good company in omitting this theory.  The DOJ didn’t allege it either.  As discussed above, the DOJ specifically alleged that the merger would result in coordinated effects in the national market and/or unilateral price increases.  Rick Brunell accurately points out that Sprint and AAI have both made these arguments.  Indeed, when I testified in the House on the merger, there were a lot of questions raised about exclusionary concerns.   But the bottom line is that they are not in the Complaint.  Apparently, those arguments did not persuade the Justice Department.  I have no intention on running from the interesting question posed by the commenters that the exclusion theory does a better job of explaining market price reactions.  That’s next.  But for now, let me say that I think there is a good reason the DOJ did not accept the Sprint / AAI invitation to adopt the exclusion theory.

Does Exclusion Do A Better Job of Explaining Verizon’s Non-Movement or Slight Fall? 

I think proponents of the exclusion theory of the merger have a tough task here.  Notice that the prediction of the exclusionary theory is NOT that Verizon’s stock price will stay put or fall.  Instead, it is that it will increase post-merger.  While Brunell observes that Verizon need not fear post-merger exclusion itself, it would certainly be happy to free-ride on the allegedly imminent exclusionary efforts of the newly merged firm.  Post-Chicagoans often invoke the argument that “competition is a public good” when explaining why a downstream input provider has reason to go along with an upstream firm’s attempt to monopolize.   Bork argued that the downstream firm had no reason to engage in a contract with the upstream provider that would increase the likelihood that he would be facing an upstream monopolist (and thus worse terms of trade) tomorrow.  The classic Post-Chicago response is that each downstream firm doesn’t take into account the impact of his private decision to enter into such a contract with the would-be monopolist — that is, competition is a public good.  The flip side of this argument is that  exclusion is a public good too!   To put it more concretely, if the post-merger combination of AT&T / T-Mobile were able to successfully exclude Sprint and smaller carriers such as MetroPCS and Leap, and thereby reduce competition, the clear implication of this theory is that Verizon would benefit.

The relevant economics here are not limited to the possibility that post-merger AT&T would successfully exclude Verizon.  Think about it: both Verizon and the post-merger firm would benefit from the exclusionary efforts and reduced competition.  However, Verizon would stand to gain even more!  After all, it isn’t paying the $39 billion purchase price for the acquisition (or any of the other costs of implementing an expensive exclusion campaign).  Thus, an announcement to block the would-be exclusionary merger — the one that would allow Verizon to outsource the exclusion of its rivals to AT&T on the cheap — wouldn’t happen.  Verizon stock should fall relative to the market in response to this lost opportunity.  The unilateral and coordinated effects theories in the DOJ complaint are at significant tension with the stock market reactions of firms like Sprint (and its affiliated venture, Clearwire).  The exclusion theory predicts a large decrease in stock price for Verizon with the announcement.  None of these comfortably fit the facts.  Verizon more or less tracks the S&P with a slight drop.  What about the smaller carriers?  Take a look at the chart.  MetroPCS barely moved relative to the market (in fact, may have increased relative to the market over the relevant time period); Leap is down a bit more than the market.  Here, with the smaller carriers there is not a lot of movement in any direction.  But, contra NB’s comment (“Verizon, a larger and far more significant competitor, had its stock drop sharply in that same period you show Sprint “surging”. MetroPCS’s stock also dropped.”), Verizon’s small fall relative to the market is nowhere near the magnitude of the positive effect on Sprint and Clearwire.

But what about competition?  Isn’t it true that if the merger was procompetitive a challenge announcement would likely mean less competition for Verizon and also predict an increase in stock price?  AAI’s comment tries to have this both ways.  If Verizon’s price stays still, its because it has nothing to fear from exclusion (contra the economics above); if it goes down, the DOJ announcement has decreased the likelihood of those coordinated effects Sprint and AAI argued were so likely (but then there is Sprint’s big jump); and if Verizon prices increase then it just means that we weren’t right in the first instance than they were safe from exclusion.  One is reminded of Tom Smith and his incredible bread machine.   But this leads to an interesting point.  Brunell and AAI (and perhaps other proponents of the DOJ challenge), as pointed out in the comments, appear to agree with me that stock market reactions are probative evidence of competitive effects.  Perhaps they believe that the exclusionary theory is a better explanation of the facts — I obviously don’t think so.  But we are where we are.  That theory is not alleged.  Now that we’ve observed the quite significant stock market reaction of Sprint to the challenge announcement.  Do we at least agree those facts are in tension with the coordinated effects theory made so prominent in the DOJ complaint?

Couldn’t There Be Other Important Factors Explaining Stock Price Movements Unrelated to the Competitive Implications of the DOJ’s Challenge?

To write the question is to answer it.  You bet there could be.  And indeed, I wrote in the first post that while the fairly dramatic stock price reactions of Sprint and Clearwire were probative, the post was not a full-blown event study that would account for those events, formulate a market model, and test for the abnormal returns surrounding the announcement controlling for other important events.  Further, not all competitors are created equal.  Under the efficiency story, the distribution of benefits will accrue proportionately to the rivals who were most likely to face increased competition post-merger (and now are more likely not to).  I certainly agree with Rick Brunell’s summary comment that the stock price evidence is somewhat “mixed.”  There are small and relatively ambiguous effects — once one includes the market performance — on the stock prices of Metro and Verizon.  Leap is more clearly down, even if by a small amount relative to the market.   There may well be a variety of factors unrelated to the announcement confounding effects here.  This is the reason we do real event studies in practice and why I do not believe the simple collection of evidence here warrants sweeping conclusions about the merits of the merger.

However, the DOJ complaint tells us that the important competitive players in the market — the “Big Four” — are AT&T, T-Mobile, Sprint, and Verizon.  Focusing upon the non-merging big 4, we see Sprint’s price going up dramatically and Verizon’s staying put.  The former is simply  more consistent with procompetitive theories than the coordinated effects and unilateral effects theories alleged in the DOJ complaint.  One might expect an announcement to block a procompetitive merger to have a greater positive impact on Verizon stock.  But, as many have observed in the press, the impact of the merger upon Verizon is complicated by a number of factors, not the least of which is that the challenge announcement increases the likelihood that the DOJ is committed to challenging any future attempts to merger by Verizon.  Unless spectrum capacity is increased dramatically (see this excellent Adam Thierer post on this score) in the very near future it is difficult to see how the reduced ability to exercise that significant and valuable option would not also impact Verizon.  Thus, while not a slam dunk by any means, the procompetitive theory of the merger does a pretty decent job on the Big Four.   It certainly beats the coordination theory trumpeted in the Complaint.  As for the attempt of AAI and Sprint to salvage the DOJ complaint with the exclusionary theory — perhaps it is not too late to amend, but it isn’t there now and I’d warn the DOJ against including it.  With respect to the DOJ’s Big Four, the exclusionary theory is not only new and relatively controversial in the Guidelines, but also makes a strong prediction concerning a Verizon stock price increase that is inconsistent with the data.

There will certainly be more data as we move along.  And it should interesting to watch how things unfold both in the market and between the DOJ and FCC as well.  For now, however, color me unconvinced by the heavy reliance upon the structural, “Big 4 collusion” story leading the Complaint and the attempts to save it with exclusionary theories.

[Cross posted at Truthonthemarket]

Basic economic theory underlies the conventional antitrust wisdom that if a merger makes the merging party a more effective competitor by lowering its costs, rivals facing this more effective competitor post-merger are made worse off, but consumers benefit. On the other hand, if a merger is likely to result in collusion or a unilateral price increase, the rival firm is made better off while consumers suffer. In the latter case — the one the DOJ complaint asserts we are experiencing with respect to the proposed AT&T merger — marketwide coordination or reduction of competition resulting in higher prices makes the non-merging rival better off.

Basic economic theory thus generates a set of clear testable implications for the DOJ’s theory of the transaction:

1. events that the merger more likely should have a negative impact upon non-merging rivals’ stock prices when the merger is procompetitive (reflecting the likelihood the firm will face a more efficient, lower-cost rival in the future);
2. events that make a merger less likely should have a positive impact upon non-merging rivals’ stock prices when the merger is procompetitive (reflecting the reduced likelihood that the merger will face the more efficient competitor in the future)
3. by similar economic logic, events that make an anticompetitive merger more likely to occur should result in increase non-merging rivals’ stock prices (who will benefit from higher market prices) while events that make an anticompetitive merger less likely should decrease non-merging rivals’ stock prices.

The DOJ complaint clearly stakes out its position that the merger will be anticompetitive, and result in higher market prices. Paragraph 36 of the DOJ’s complaint focuses upon potential post-merger coordination:

The substantial increase in concentration that would result from this merger, and the reduction in the number of nationwide providers from four to three, likely will lead to lessened competition due to an enhanced risk of anticompetitive coordination. … Any anti competitive coordination at a national level would result in higher nationwide prices (or other nationwide harm) by the remaining national providers, Verizon, Sprint, and the merged entity. Such harm would affect consumers all across the nation, including those in rural areas with limited T-Mobile presence.

Paragraph 37 of the DOJ complaint turns to unilateral effects:

The proposed merger likely would lessen competition through elimination of head-to-head competition between AT&T and T-Mobile. … The proposed merger would, therefore, likely eliminate important competition between AT&T and T-Mobile.

If the DOJ’s allegations are correct, one would expect the market price for prominent non-merging rivals such as Sprint to fall upon today’s announcement that the DOJ will challenge the merger. This is because the announcement decreases the likelihood that an anticompetitive merger will occur, and thus deprives the opportunity for non-merging rivals to enjoy the increased market prices and margins that would follow from post-merger collusion or unilateral price increases.

The NY Times Dealbook headline suggests otherwise: “Sprint Shares Surge on AT&T Setback.” Geoff highlighted several of the DOJ’s claims in the report. As the case unfolds, I think an important question to ask is how many of those allegations are consistent with the following data showing the market reactions of Sprint and Clearwire stock prices today. I’ve included Clearwire both because Sprint owns a majority share in it and because of its recent announcement of plans to enter the 4G LTE space.

I’ve not run a full-blown event study here, obviously.  But the positive jump for Sprint (Blue Line) & Clearwire (Green Line) today in response to the announcement is hard to miss.  How many of the statements in the DOJ complaint, press release and analysis are consistent with this market reaction?  If the post-merger market would be less competitive than the status quo, as the DOJ complaint hypothesizes, why would the market reward Sprint and Clearwire for an increased likelihood of facing greater competition in the future?  The simplest alternative hypothesis is that the merger is likely procompetitive and rivals are enjoying a premium for the increased likelihood that they will avoid more intense competition in the future.  Is there a reason here to reject that simple hypothesis?  Will the market reaction induce the DOJ to revisit its priors?

[Cross-Posted at Truthonthemarket.com]

I did not intend for this to become a series (Part I), but I underestimated the supply of analysis simultaneously invoking “search bias” as an antitrust concept while waving it about untethered from antitrust’s institutional commitment to protecting consumer welfare.  Harvard Business School Professor Ben Edelman offers the latest iteration in this genre.  We’ve criticized his claims regarding search bias and antitrust on precisely these grounds.

For those who have not been following the Google antitrust saga, Google’s critics allege Google’s algorithmic search results “favor” its own services and products over those of rivals in some indefinite, often unspecified, improper manner.  In particular, Professor Edelman and others — including Google’s business rivals — have argued that Google’s “bias” discriminates most harshly against vertical search engine rivals, i.e. rivals offering search specialized search services.   In framing the theory that “search bias” can be a form of anticompetitive exclusion, Edelman writes:

Search bias is a mechanism whereby Google can leverage its dominance in search, in order to achieve dominance in other sectors.  So for example, if Google wants to be dominant in restaurant reviews, Google can adjust search results, so whenever you search for restaurants, you get a Google reviews page, instead of a Chowhound or Yelp page. That’s good for Google, but it might not be in users’ best interests, particularly if the other services have better information, since they’ve specialized in exactly this area and have been doing it for years.

I’ve wondered what model of antitrust-relevant conduct Professor Edelman, an economist, has in mind.  It is certainly well known in both the theoretical and empirical antitrust economics literature that “bias” is neither necessary nor sufficient for a theory of consumer harm; further, it is fairly obvious as a matter of economics that vertical integration can be, and typically is, both efficient and pro-consumer.  Still further, the bulk of economic theory and evidence on these contracts suggest that they are generally efficient and a normal part of the competitive process generating consumer benefits.  Vertically integrated firms may “bias” their own content in ways that increase output; the relevant point is that self-promoting incentives in a vertical relationship can be either efficient or anticompetitive depending on the circumstances of the situation.  The empirical literature suggests that such relationships are mostly pro-competitive and that restrictions upon firms’ ability to enter them generally reduce consumer welfare.  Edelman is an economist, with a Ph.D. from Harvard no less, and so I find it a bit odd that he has framed the “bias” debate outside of this framework, without regard to consumer welfare, and without reference to any of this literature or perhaps even an awareness of it.  Edelman’s approach appears to be a declaration that a search engine’s placement of its own content, algorithmically or otherwise, constitutes an antitrust harm because it may harm rivals — regardless of the consequences for consumers.  Antitrust observers might parallel this view to the antiquated “harm to competitors is harm to competition” approach of antitrust dating back to the 1960s and prior.  These parallels would be accurate.  Edelman’s view is flatly inconsistent with conventional theories of anticompetitive exclusion presently enforced in modern competition agencies or antitrust courts.

But does Edelman present anything more than just a pre-New Learning-era bias against vertical integration?  I’m beginning to have my doubts.  In an interview in Politico (login required), Professor Edelman offers two quotes that illuminate the search-bias antitrust theory — unfavorably.  Professor Edelman begins with what he describes as a “simple” solution to the search bias problem:

I don’t think it’s out of the question given the complexity of what Google has built and its persistence in entering adjacent, ancillary markets. A much simpler approach, if you like things that are simple, would be to disallow Google from entering these adjacent markets. OK, you want to be dominant in search? Stay out of the vertical business, stay out of content.

The problems here should be obvious.  Yes, a per se prohibition on vertical integration by Google into other economic activities would be quite simple; simple and thoroughly destructive.  The mildly more interesting inquiry is what Edelman proposes Google ought provide.  May, under Edelman’s view of a proper regulatory regime, Google answer address search queries by providing a map?  May Google answer product queries with shopping results?  Is the answer to those questions “yes” if and only if Google serves up some one else’s shopping results or map?  What if consumers prefer Google’s shopping result or map because it is more responsive to the query.  Note once again that Edelman’s answers do not turn on consumer welfare.  His answers are a function of the anticipated impact of Google’s choices to engage in those activities upon rival vertical search engines.  Consumer welfare is not the center of Edelman’s analysis; indeed, it is unclear what role consumer welfare plays in Edelman’s analysis at all.  Edelman simply applies his prior presumption that Google’s conduct, even if it produces real gains for consumers, is or should be actionable as an antitrust claim upon a demonstration that Google’s own services are ranked highly on its own search engine — even if Google-affiliated content is ranked highly by other search engines!  (See Danny Sullivan making that point nicely in this post).  Edelman’s proscription ignores the efficiencies of vertical integration and the benefits to consumers entirely.  It may be possible to articulate a coherent anticompetitive theory involving so-called search bias that could then be tested against the real world evidence.  Edelman has not.

Professor Edelman’s other quotation from the profile of the “academic wunderkind” that drew my attention was the following answer in response to the question “which search engine do you use?”  After explaining that he probably uses Google and Bing in proportion to their market shares, Professor Edelman is quoted as saying:

If your house is on fire and you forgot the number for the fire department, I’d encourage you to use Google. When it counts, if Google is one percent better for one percent of searches and both options are free, you’d be crazy not to use it. But if everyone makes that decision, we head towards a monopoly and all the problems experience reveals when a company controls too much.

By my lights, there is no clearer example of the sacrifice of consumer welfare in Edelman’s approach to analyzing whether and how search engines and their results should be regulated.  Note the core of Professor Edelman’s position: if Google offers a superior product favored by all consumers, and if Google gains substantial market share because of this success as determined by consumers, we are collectively headed for serious problems redressable by regulation.  In these circumstances, given the (1) lack of consumer lock-in for search engine use, (2) the overwhelming evidence that vertical integration is generally pro-competitive, and (3) the fact that consumers are generally enjoying the use of free services — one might think that any consumer-minded regulatory approach would carefully attempt to identify and distinguish potentially anticompetitive conduct so as to minimize the burden to consumers from inevitable false positives.  With credit to antitrust and its hard-earned economic discipline, this is the approach suggested by modern antitrust doctrine.  U.S. antitrust law requires a demonstration that consumers will be harmed by a challenged practice — not merely rivals.  It is odd and troubling when an economist abandons the consumer welfare approach; it is yet more peculiar that an economist not only abandons the consumer welfare lodestar but also argues for (or at least presents an unequivocal willingness to accept) an ex ante prohibition on vertical integration altogether in this space.

I’ve no doubt that there are more sophisticated theories of which creative antitrust economists can conceive that come closer to satisfying the requirements of modern antitrust economics by focusing upon consumer welfare.  Certainly, the economists who identify those theories will have their shot at convincing the FTC.  Indeed, Section 5 might even open the door to theories ever-so slightly more creative and more open-ended that those that would be taken seriously in a Sherman Act inquiry.  However, antitrust economists can and should remain intensely focused upon the impact of the conduct at issue — in this case, prominent algorithmic placement of Google’s own affiliated content its rankings — on consumer welfare.  Because Professor Edelman’s views harken to the infamous days of antitrust that cast a pall over any business practice unpleasant for rivals — even if the practice delivered what consumers wanted.  Edelman’s theory is an offer to jeopardize consumers and protect rivals, and to brush the dust off antiquated antitrust theories and standards and apply them to today’s innovative online markets.  Modern antitrust has come a long way in its thinking over the past 50 years — too far to accept these competitor-centric theories of harm.

[Cross-posted at Truthonthemarket.com]

There is an antitrust debate brewing concerning Google and “search bias,” a term used to describe search engine results that preference the content of the search provider.  For example, Google might list Google Maps prominently if one searches “maps” or Microsoft’s Bing might prominently place Microsoft affiliated content or products.

Apparently both antitrust investigations and Congressional hearings are in the works; regulators and commentators appear poised to attempt to impose “search neutrality” through antitrust or other regulatory means to limit or prohibit the ability of search engines (or perhaps just Google) to favor their own content.  At least one proposal goes so far as to advocate a new government agency to regulate search.  Of course, when I read proposals like this, I wonder where Google’s share of the “search market” will be by the time the new agency is built.

As with the net neutrality debate, I understand some of the push for search neutrality involves an intense push to discard traditional economically-grounded antitrust framework.  The logic for this push is simple.  The economic literature on vertical restraints and vertical integration provides no support for ex ante regulation arising out of the concern that a vertically integrating firm will harm competition through favoring its own content and discriminating against rivals.  Economic theory suggests that such arrangements may be anticompetitive in some instances, but also provides a plethora of pro-competitive explanations.  Lafontaine & Slade explain the state of the evidence in their recent survey paper in the Journal of Economic Literature:

We are therefore somewhat surprised at what the weight of the evidence is telling us. It says that, under most circumstances, profit-maximizing vertical-integration decisions are efficient, not just from the firms’ but also from the consumers’ points of view. Although there are isolated studies that contradict this claim, the vast majority support it. Moreover, even in industries that are highly concentrated so that horizontal considerations assume substantial importance, the net effect of vertical integration appears to be positive in many instances. We therefore conclude that, faced with a vertical arrangement, the burden of evidence should be placed on competition authorities to demonstrate that that arrangement is harmful before the practice is attacked. Furthermore, we have found clear evidence that restrictions on vertical integration that are imposed, often by local authorities, on owners of retail networks are usually detrimental to consumers. Given the weight of the evidence, it behooves government agencies to reconsider the validity of such restrictions.

Of course, this does not bless all instances of vertical contracts or integration as pro-competitive.  The antitrust approach appropriately eschews ex ante regulation in favor of a fact-specific rule of reason analysis that requires plaintiffs to demonstrate competitive harm in a particular instance. Again, given the strength of the empirical evidence, it is no surprise that advocates of search neutrality, as net neutrality before it, either do not rely on consumer welfare arguments or are willing to sacrifice consumer welfare for other objectives.

I wish to focus on the antitrust arguments for a moment.  In an interview with the San Francisco Gate, Harvard’s Ben Edelman sketches out an antitrust claim against Google based upon search bias; and to his credit, Edelman provides some evidence in support of his claim.

I’m not convinced.  Edelman’s interpretation of evidence of search bias is detached from antitrust economics.  The evidence is all about identifying whether or not there is bias.  That, however, is not the relevant antitrust inquiry; instead, the question is whether such vertical arrangements, including preferential treatment of one’s own downstream products, are generally procompetitive or anticompetitive.  Examples from other contexts illustrate this point.

Grocery product manufacturers contract for “bias” with supermarkets through slotting contracts and other shelf space payments.  The bulk of economic theory and evidence on these contracts suggest that they are generally efficient and a normal part of the competitive process.   Vertically integrated firms may “bias” their own content in ways that increase output.  Whether bias occurs within the firm (as is the case with Google favoring its own products) or by contract (the shelf space example) should be of no concern for Edelman and those making search bias antitrust arguments.  Economists have known since Coase — and have been reminded by Klein, Alchian, Williamson and others — that firms may achieve by contract anything they could do within the boundaries of the firm.  The point is that, in the economics literature, it is well known that content self-promoting incentives in a vertical relationship can be either efficient or anticompetitive depending on the circumstances of the situation.  The empirical literature suggests that such relationships are mostly pro-competitive and that restrictions upon the abilities of firms to enter them generally reduce consumer welfare.

Edelman is an economist, and so I find it a bit odd that he has framed the “bias” debate without reference to any of this literature.  Instead, his approach appears to be that bias generates harm to rivals and that this harm is a serious antitrust problem.  (Or in other places, that the problem is that Google exhibits bias but its employees may have claimed otherwise at various points; this is also antitrust-irrelevant.)  For example, Edelman writes:

Search bias is a mechanism whereby Google can leverage its dominance in search, in order to achieve dominance in other sectors.  So for example, if Google wants to be dominant in restaurant reviews, Google can adjust search results, so whenever you search for restaurants, you get a Google reviews page, instead of a Chowhound or Yelp page. That’s good for Google, but it might not be in users’ best interests, particularly if the other services have better information, since they’ve specialized in exactly this area and have been doing it for years.

“Leveraging” one’s dominance in search, of course, takes a bit more than bias.  But I was quite curious about Edelman’s evidence and so I went and looked at Edelman and Lockwood.  Here is how they characterize their research question: “Whether search engines’ algorithmic results favor their own services, and if so, which search engines do so most, to what extent, and in what substantive areas.”  Here is how the authors describe what they did to test the hypothesis that Google engages in more search bias than other search engines:

To formalize our analysis, we formed a list of 32 search terms for services commonly provided by search engines, such as “email”, “calendar”, and “maps”. We searched for each term using the top 5 search engines: Google, Yahoo, Bing, Ask, and AOL. We collected this data in August 2010. We preserved and analyzed the first page of results from each search. Most results came from sources independent of search engines, such as blogs, private web sites, and Wikipedia. However, a significant fraction – 19% – came from pages that were obviously affiliated with one of the five search engines. (For example, we classified results from youtube.com and gmail.com as Google, while Microsoft results included msn.com, hotmail.com, live.com, and Bing.)

Here is the underlying data for all 32 terms; so far, so good.  A small pilot study examining whether and to what extent search engines favor their own content is an interesting project — though, again, I’m not sure it says anything about the antitrust issues.  No surprise: they find some evidence that search engines exhibit some bias in favor of affiliated sites.  You can see all of the evidence at Edelman’s site (again, to his credit).  Interpretations of these results vary dramatically.  Edelman sees a serious problem.  Danny Sullivan begs to differ (“Google only favors itself 19 percent of the time”), and also makes the important point that the study took place before Yahoo searches were powered by Bing.

In their study, Edelman and Lockwood appear at least somewhat aware that bias and vertical integration can be efficient although they do not frame it in those terms.  They concede, for example, that “in principle, a search engine might feature its own services because its users prefer these links.”  To distinguish between these two possibilities, they conceive of the following test:

To test the user preference and bias hypotheses, we use data from two different sources on click-through-rate (CTR) for searches at Google, Yahoo, and Bing. Using CTR data from comScore and another service that (with users’ permission) tracks users’ searches and clicks (a service which prefers not to be listed by name), we analyze the frequency with which users click on search results for selected terms. The data span a four-week period, centered around the time of our automated searches.  In click-through data, the most striking pattern is that the first few search results receive the vast majority of users’ clicks. Across all search engines and search terms, the first result received, on average, 72% of users’ clicks, while the second and third results received 13% and 8% of clicks, respectively.

So far, no surprises.  The first listing generates greater incremental click-through than the second or third listing.  Similarly, the eye-level shelf space generates more sales than less prominent shelf space.  The authors have a difficult time distinguishing user preference from bias:

This concentration of users’ clicks makes it difficult to disprove the user preference hypothesis. For example, as shown in Table 1, Google and Yahoo each list their own maps service as the first result for the query “maps”. Our CTR data indicates that Google Maps receives 86% of user clicks when the search is performed on Google, and Yahoo Maps receives 72% of clicks when the search is performed on Yahoo. One might think that this concentration is evidence of users’ preference for the service affiliated with their search engine. On the other hand, since clicks are usually highly concentrated on the first result, it is possible that users have no such preference, and that they are simply clicking on the first result because it appears first. Moreover, since the advantage conferred by a result’s rank likely differs across different search queries, we do not believe it is appropriate to try to control for ranking in a regression.

The interesting question from a consumer welfare perspective is not what happens to the users without a strong preference for Google Maps or Yahoo Maps.  Users without a strong preference are likely to click-through on whatever service is offered on their search engine of choice.  There is no significant welfare loss from a consumer who is indifferent between Google Maps and Yahoo Maps from choosing one over the other.

The more interesting question is whether users with a strong preference for a non-Google product are foreclosed from access to consumers by search bias.  When Google ranks its Maps above others, but a user with a strong preference for Yahoo Maps finds it listed second, is the user able to find his product of choice?  Probably if it is listed second.  Probably not if it is delisted or something more severe.  Edelman reports some data on this issues:

Nevertheless, there is one CTR pattern that would be highly suggestive of bias. Suppose we see a case in which a search engine ranks its affiliated result highly, yet that result receives fewer clicks than lower results. This would suggest that users strongly prefer the lower result — enough to overcome the effect of the affiliated result’s higher ranking.

Of course this is consistent with bias; however, to repeat the critical point, this bias does not inexorably lead to — or even suggest — an antitrust problem.  Let’s recall the shelf space analogy.  Consider a supermarket where Pepsi is able to gain access to the premium eye-level shelf space but consumers have a strong preference for Coke.  Whether or not the promotional efforts of Pepsi will have an impact on competition depend on whether Coke is able to get access to consumers.  In that case, it may involve reaching down to the second or third shelf.  There might be some incremental search costs involved.  And even if one could show that Coke sales declined dramatically in response to Pepsi’s successful execution of its contractual shelf-space bias strategy, that merely shows harm to rivals rather than harm to competition.  If Coke-loving consumers can access their desired product, Coke isn’t harmed, and there is certainly no competitive risk.

So what do we make of evidence that in the face of search engine bias, click-through data suggest consumers will still pick lower listings?  One inference is that consumers with strong preferences for content other than the biased result nonetheless access their preferred content.  It is difficult to see a competitive problem arising in such an environment.  Edelman anticipates this point somewhat when observes during his interview:

The thing about the effect I’ve just described is you don’t see it very often. Usually the No. 1 link gets twice as many clicks as the second result. So the bias takes some of the clicks that should have gone to the right result. It seems most users are influenced by the positioning.

This fails to justify Edelman’s position.  First off, in a limited sample of terms, its unclear what it means for these reversals not to happen “very often.”  More importantly, so what that the top link gets twice as many clicks as the second link?  The cases where the second link gets the dominant share of clicks-through might well be those where users have a strong preference for the second listed site.  Even if they are not, the antitrust question is whether search bias is efficient or poses a competitive threat.  Most users might be influenced by the positioning because they lack a strong preference or even any preference at all.  That search engines compete for the attention of those consumers, including through search bias, should not be surprising.  But it does not make out a coherent claim of consumer harm.

The ‘compared to what’ question looms large here.  One cannot begin to conceive of answering the search bias problem — if it is a problem at all — from a consumer welfare perspective until they pin down the appropriate counterfactual.  Edelman appears to assume  — when he observes that ” bias takes some of the clicks that should have gone to the right result” — that the benchmark “right result” is that which would prevail if listings were correlated perfectly with aggregate consumer preference.   My point here is simple: that comparison is not the one that is relevant to antitrust.  An antitrust inquiry would distinguish harm to competitors from harm to competition; it would focus its inquiry on whether bias impaired the competitive process by foreclosing rivals from access to consumers and not merely whether various listings would be improved but for Google’s bias.  The answer to that question is clearly yes.  The relevant question, however, is whether that bias is efficient.   Evidence that other search engines with much smaller market shares, and certainly without any market power, exhibit similar bias would suggest to most economists that the practice certainly has some efficiency justifications.  Edelman ignores that possibility and by doing so, ignores decades of economic theory and empirical evidence.  This is a serious error, as the overwhelming lesson of that literature is that restrictions on vertical contracting and integration are a serious threat to consumer welfare.

I do not know what answer the appropriate empirical analysis would reveal.  As Geoff and I argue in this paper, however, I suspect a monopolization case against Google on these grounds would face substantial obstacles.  A deeper understanding of the competitive effects of search engine bias is a worthy project.  Edelman should also be applauded for providing some data that is interesting fodder for discussion.  But my sense of the economic arguments and existing data are that they do not provide the support for an antitrust attack against search bias against Google specifically, nor the basis for a consumer-welfare grounded search neutrality regime.

[Cross-Posted at Truthonthemarket.com]

There has been, as is to be expected, plenty of casual analysis of the AT&T / T-Mobile merger to go around.  As I mentioned, I think there are a number of interesting issues to be resolved in an investigation with access to the facts necessary to conduct the appropriate analysis.  Annie Lowrey’s piece in Slate is one of the more egregious violators of the liberal application of “folk economics” to the merger while reaching some very confident conclusions concerning the competitive effects of the merger:

Merging AT&T and T-Mobile would reduce competition further, creating a wireless behemoth with more than 125 million customers and nudging the existing oligopoly closer to a duopoly. The new company would have more customers than Verizon, and three times as many as Sprint Nextel. It would control about 42 percent of the U.S. cell-phone market. That means higher prices, full stop. The proposed deal is, in finance-speak, a “horizontal acquisition.” AT&T is not attempting to buy a company that makes software or runs network improvements or streamlines back-end systems. AT&T is buying a company that has the broadband it needs and cutting out a competitor to boot—a competitor that had, of late, pushed hard to compete on price. Perhaps it’s telling that AT&T has made no indications as of yet that it will keep T-Mobile’s lower rates.

Full stop?  I don’t think so.  Nothing in economic theory says so.  And by the way, 42 percent simply isn’t high enough to tell a merger to monopoly story here; and Lowrey concedes some efficiencies from the merger (“buying a company that has the broadband it needs” is an efficiency!).  To be clear, the merger may or may not pose competitive problems as a matter of fact.  The point is that serious analysis must be done in order to evaluate its likely competitive effects.  And of course, Lowrey (H/T: Yglesias) has no obligation to conduct serious analysis in a column — nor do I in a blog post. But this idea that the market concentration is an incredibly useful and — in her case, perfectly accurate — predictor of price effects is devoid of analytical content and also misleads on the relevant economics.

Quite the contrary, so undermined has been the confidence in the traditional concentration-price notions of horizontal merger analysis that the antitrust agencies’ 2010 Horizontal Merger Guidelines are premised in large part upon the notion that modern merger analysis considers shares to be an inherently unreliable predictor of competitive effects!!  (For what its worth, a recent The Wall Street Journal column discussing merger analysis makes the same mistake — that is, suggests that the merger analysis comes down to shares and HHIs.  It doesn’t.)

To be sure, the merger of large firms with relatively large shares may attract significant attention, may suggest that the analysis drags on for a longer period of time, and likely will provide an opportunity for the FCC to extract some concessions.  But what I’m talking about is the antitrust economics here, not the political economy.  That is, will the merger increase prices and harm consumers?  With respect to the substantive merits, there is a fact-intensive economic analysis that must be done before anybody makes strong predictions about competitive effects.  The antitrust agencies will conduct that analysis.  So will the parties.  Indeed, the reported $3 billion termination fee suggests that AT&T is fairly confident it will get this through; and it clearly thought of this in advance.  It is not as if the parties’ efficiencies contentions are facially implausible.  The idea that the merger could alleviate spectrum exhaustion, that there are efficiencies in spectrum holdings, and that this will facilitate expansion of LTE are worth investigating on the facts; just as the potentially anticompetitive theories are.   I don’t have strong opinions on the way that analysis will come out without doing it myself or at least having access to more data.

I’m only reacting to, and rejecting, the idea that we should simplify merger analysis to the dual propositions — that: (1) an increase in concentration leads to higher prices, and (2) when data doesn’t comport with (1) we can dismiss it by asserting without evidence that prices would have fallen even more.  This approach is, let’s just say, problematic.

In the meantime, the Sprint CEO has publicly criticized the deal.  As I’ve discussed previously, economic theory and evidence suggest that when rivals complain about a merger, it is likely to increase competition rather than reduce it.  This is, of course, a rule of thumb.  But it is one that generates much more reliable inferences than the simple view — rejected by both theory and evidence — that a reduction in the number of firms allows leads to higher prices.  Yglesias points out, on the other hand, that rival Verizon prices increased post-merger (but did it experience abnormal returns?  What about other rivals?), suggesting the market expects the merger to create market power.  At least there we are in the world of casual empiricism rather than misusing theory.

Adam Thierer here at TLF provides some insightful analysis as to the political economy of deal approval.   Karl Smith makes a similar point here.

[Cross-Posted at Truthonthemarket.com]

The big merger news is that AT&T is planning to acquire T-Mobile.  From the AT&T press release:

AT&T Inc. (NYSE: T) and Deutsche Telekom AG (FWB: DTE) today announced that they have entered into a definitive agreement under which AT&T will acquire T-Mobile USA from Deutsche Telekom in a cash-and-stock transaction currently valued at approximately $39 billion. The agreement has been approved by the Boards of Directors of both companies. AT&T’s acquisition of T-Mobile USA provides an optimal combination of network assets to add capacity sooner than any alternative, and it provides an opportunity to improve network quality in the near term for both companies’ customers. In addition, it provides a fast, efficient and certain solution to the impending exhaustion of wireless spectrum in some markets, which limits both companies’ ability to meet the ongoing explosive demand for mobile broadband. With this transaction, AT&T commits to a significant expansion of robust 4G LTE (Long Term Evolution) deployment to 95 percent of the U.S. population to reach an additional 46.5 million Americans beyond current plans – including rural communities and small towns.  This helps achieve the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) and President Obama’s goals to connect “every part of America to the digital age.” T-Mobile USA does not have a clear path to delivering LTE.

As the press release suggests, the potential efficiencies of the deal lie in relieving spectrum exhaustion in some markets as well as 4G LTE.  AT&T President Ralph De La Vega, in an interview, described the potential gains as follows:

The first thing is, this deal alleviates the impending spectrum exhaust challenges that both companies face. By combining the spectrum holdings that we have, which are complementary, it really helps both companies.  Second, just like we did with the old AT&T Wireless merger, when we combine both networks what we are going to have is more network capacity and better quality as the density of the network grid increases.In major urban areas, whether Washington, D.C., New York or San Francisco, by combining the networks we actually have a denser grid. We have more cell sites per grid, which allows us to have a better capacity in the network and better quality. It’s really going to be something that customers in both networks are going to notice. The third point is that AT&T is going to commit to expand LTE to cover 95 percent of the U.S. population. T-Mobile didn’t have a clear path to LTE, so their 34 million customers now get the advantage of having the greatest and latest technology available to them, whereas before that wasn’t clear. It also allows us to deliver that to 46.5 million more Americans than we have in our current plans. This is going to take LTE not just to major cities but to rural America.

At least some of the need for more spectrum is attributable to the success of the iPhone:

This transaction quickly provides the spectrum and network efficiencies necessary for AT&T to address impending spectrum exhaust in key markets driven by the exponential growth in mobile broadband traffic on its network. AT&T’s mobile data traffic grew 8,000 percent over the past four years and by 2015 it is expected to be eight to 10 times what it was in 2010. Put another way, all of the mobile traffic volume AT&T carried during 2010 is estimated to be carried in just the first six to seven weeks of 2015. Because AT&T has led the U.S. in smartphones, tablets and e-readers – and as a result, mobile broadband – it requires additional spectrum before new spectrum will become available.

On regulatory concerns, De La Vega observes:

We are very respectful of the processes the Department of Justice and (other regulators) use.  The criteria that has been used in the past for mergers of this type is that the merger is looked at (for) the benefits it brings on a market-by-market basis and how it impacts competition. Today, when you look across the top 20 markets in the country, 18 of those markets have five or more competitors, and when you look across the entire country, the majority of the country’s markets have five or more competitors. I think if the criteria that has been used in the past is used against this merger, I think the appropriate authorities will find there will still be plenty of competition left. If you look at pricing as a key barometer of the competition in an industry, our industry despite all of the mergers that have taken place in the past, (has) actually reduced prices to customers 50 percent since 1999. Even when these mergers have been done in the past they have always benefited the customers and we think they will benefit again.

Obviously, the deal is expected to generate significant regulatory scrutiny and will trigger a lot of interesting discussion and analysis of the state or wireless competition in the U.S.   With the forthcoming FCC Wireless Competition Report likely to signal the FCC’s position on the issue, and split approval authority with the conventional antitrust agencies, there appears to be significant potential for inter-agency conflict.

Greg Stirling at Searchengineland notes that “AT&T and T-Mobile said that they expect regulatory review to take up to 12 months.”   I’ll take the “over.”  Stirling also notes, in an interesting post, the $3 billion termination fee owed to T-Mobile if the deal gets blocked.  How’s that for a confidence signal?  In any event, it will be interesting to watch this unfold.

Here is an interesting preview, from AT&T executives this morning, of some of the arguments AT&T will be advancing in the coming months to achieve regulatory approval.  Some of the most critical issues to parse out will be previous historical experience with cellular mergers, and whether, in fact, it is likely that the merger will bring about substantial efficiencies and facilitate bringing LTE to new markets.  The preview includes the following chart, suggesting that significant price increases are not likely as a result of the merger based upon past experience.

No doubt there will be further opportunity to comment upon developments here over the next 12-18 months.

[Cross-posted at Truth on the Market]

Antitrust investigators continue to see smoke rising around Apple and the App Store.  From the WSJ:

For starters, subscriptions must be sold through Apple’s App Store. For instance, a magazine that wants to publish its content on an iPad cannot include a link in an iPad app that would direct readers to buy subscriptions through the magazine’s website. Apple earns a 30% share of any subscription sold through its App Store. … A federal official confirmed to The Washington Post that the government is looking at Apple’s subscription service terms for potential antitrust issues but said there is no formal investigation. Speaking on the condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to comment publicly, the official said that the government routinely tracks new commercial initiatives influencing markets.

Investigators certainly suspect Apple of myriad antitrust violations; there is even some absurd talk about breaking up Apple.  There is definitely smoke — but is there fire?

The most often discussed bar to an antitrust action against Apple is the one many regulators simply assume into existence: Apple must have market power in an antitrust-relevant market.  While Apple’s share of the smartphone market is only 16% or so, its share of the tablet computing market is much larger.  The WSJ, for example, reports that Apple accounts for about three-fourths of tablet computer sales.  I’ve noted before in the smartphone context that this requirement should not be consider a bar to FTC suit, given the availability of Section 5; however, as the WSJ explains, market definition must be a critical issue in any Apple investigation or lawsuit:

Publishers, for example, might claim that Apple dominates the market for consumer tablet computers and that it has allegedly used that commanding position to restrict competition. Apple, in turn, might define the market to include all digital and print media, and counter that any publisher not happy with Apple’s terms is free to still reach its customers through many other print and digital outlets.

One must conduct a proper, empirically-grounded analysis of the relevant data to speak with confidence; however, it suffices to say that I am skeptical that tablet sales would constitute a relevant market.

Meanwhile, Google demonstrates the corrective dynamics of markets.  New entry during an investigation period can influence agencies’ decision-making — as it should; Google has recently offered a new service, OnePass, which would allow publishers to keep up to 90% of subscription revenue.  It is unknown — and perhaps unknowable — which business model is “correct;” perhaps both are preferable in their individual contexts.  It appears there is emerging, significant competition in this space, of which regulators should take note.

Finally, in light of Geoff’s recent post, it is also worth discussing whether Tim Wu’s recent appointment to the Commission impacts the likelihood of a suit against Apple.  Geoff thinks it means a likely suit against Google; Professor Wu might bring similar implications for Apple — after all, Professor Wu has described Apple as the company he most fears.  I have no doubt that Professor Wu will spend a good deal of his time at the Commission dealing with issues surrounding both Google and Apple, policy issues concerning both, and potential antitrust theories surrounding business practices such as Apple’s subscription model.  I am skeptical, however, that his presence changes the actual likelihood of a suit: Section 2 law remains a substantial obstacle.  The real value of his creative thinking will be in generating Section 5 claims surrounding these business arrangements — where the Commission must demonstrate substantially less onerous requirements and where the Commission operates within greater legal ambiguities.  In this light, will Professor Wu bring such an aggressive stance to Section 5 so as to make the difference between an Apple challenge or not?  I doubt it — the Commission has already expressed an interpretation of Section 5 that I find unjustifiably aggressive.  The Commission needs no assistance in leveraging Section 5 to intervene in high-tech contexts: just ask Intel.

Predictions are a rough business: that caveat aside, I continue to believe the FTC will file against Apple — and because of the obvious (and likely impassable) hurdles under Section 2, I believe the eventual complaint will be a bare Section 5 suit.

[This guest post is by Joshua Wright (George Mason University) and Geoffrey Manne (International Center for Law & Economics), who blog regularly at Truth on the Market]

We’ve been reading with interest a bit of a blog squabble between Tim Wu and Adam Thierer (see here and here) set off by Professor Wu’s WSJ column: “In the Grip of the New Monopolists.”  Wu’s column makes some remarkable claims, and, like Adam, we find it extremely troubling.

Wu starts off with some serious teeth-gnashing concern over “The Internet Economy”:

The Internet has long been held up as a model for what the free market is supposed to look like—competition in its purest form. So why does it look increasingly like a Monopoly board? Most of the major sectors today are controlled by one dominant company or an oligopoly. Google “owns” search; Facebook, social networking; eBay rules auctions; Apple dominates online content delivery; Amazon, retail; and so on. There are digital Kashmirs, disputed territories that remain anyone’s game, like digital publishing. But the dominions of major firms have enjoyed surprisingly secure borders over the last five years, their core markets secure. Microsoft’s Bing, launched last year by a giant with $40 billion in cash on hand, has captured a mere 3.25% of query volume (Google retains 83%). Still, no one expects Google Buzz to seriously encroach on Facebook’s market, or, for that matter, Skype to take over from Twitter. Though the border incursions do keep dominant firms on their toes, they have largely foundered as business ventures.

What struck us about Wu’s column was that there was not even a thin veil over the “big is bad” theme of the essay.  Holding aside complicated market definition questions about the markets in which Google, Twitter, Facebook, Apple, Amazon and others upon whom Wu focuses operate—that is, the question of whether these firms are actually “monopolists” or even “near monopolists”—a question that Adam deals with masterfully in his response (in essence: There is a serious defect in an analysis of online markets in which Amazon and eBay are asserted to be non-competitors, monopolizing distinct sectors of commerce)—the most striking feature of Wu’s essay was the presumption that market concentration of this type leads to harm.

While Wu describes network externalities as one possible reason for the presence of firms with large shares in these markets, and gives some lip service to the notion that monopolists of the 2.0 variety might provide some consumer benefits, consider the following use of language to describe market outcomes:

• “Market power is rarely seized so much as it is surrendered up, and that surrender is born less of a deliberate decision than of going with the flow.”
• “We wouldn’t fret over monopoly so much if it came with a term limit. If Facebook’s rule over social networking were somehow restricted to, say, 10 years—or better, ended the moment the firm lost its technical superiority—the very idea of monopoly might seem almost wholesome. The problem is that dominant firms are like congressional incumbents and African dictators: They rarely give up even when they are clearly past their prime. Facing decline, they do everything possible to stay in power. And that’s when the rest of us suffer.”

Wu’s claim is that the modern “information monopolies” will be socially harmful.  Consider the first quote above.  These firms do not earn and keep their share by satisfying consumer demand from active consumers with preferences; it is “surrendered” by forces beyond the consumers’ control.  And with the second, why would we be concerned about time limits if these concentrated markets (again, let’s assume arguendo the market definitions Wu has in mind for now) were generating competitive results?

One need not read the tea leaves here.  Wu cuts to the chase when he writes that “info-monopolies tend to be good-to-great in the short term and bad-to-terrible in the long term.”  Benefits come early, but “the downside shows up later, as the monopolist ages and the will to innovate is replaced by mere will to power. … The costs of the monopoly are mostly borne by entrepreneurs and innovators. Over the long run, the consequences afflict the public in more subtle ways, as what were once highly dynamic parts of the economy begin to stagnate.”

Professor Wu seems to long for the good old days of antitrust—when big was bad not only as a matter of economics, but as a matter of law.  He writes, apparently assuming the economic truth of his theory of monopoly, that:

These negative effects are why people like Theodore Roosevelt, Louis Brandeis and Thurman Arnold regarded monopoly as an evil to be destroyed by the federal courts. They took a rather literal reading of the Sherman Act, which states, “Every person who shall monopolize…shall be deemed guilty of a felony.” But today we don’t have the heart to euthanize a healthy firm like Facebook just because it’s huge and happens to know more about us than the IRS.

I do not think Professor Wu could have made it any more clear that his view is that market concentration in Internet markets is a net loss proposition for consumers.  If not an explicit endorsement of “big is bad” antitrust policy, it’s at least a rosy-eyed ode to that golden era when enforcers had more “heart.”   His stance is crystal clear.  Now, we think that view is wrong.  And we were just getting ready to write a short blog post responding to Wu’s column when things got a bit more interesting.

Thierer’s excellent response makes a few of the points above, but mostly focuses on the definitional question of “what’s a monopoly.”  Adam’s main allegation is that Wu uses the term “monopoly” inappropriately by merely focusing on market structure—whereas Adam would prefer that it is used only when competitive harm accompanies the concentrated market.  That is, Adam would not define a single seller of product X who sells at the competitive price because of the threat of entry as a monopolist, but Wu would.  It is Wu’s use of a “welfare-neutral” term that gets Thierer going:

Which gets to perhaps most stunning thing about Wu’s editorial today: He never even posits a “harm” that might be coming from the rise of these “new monopolists.”  That’s not surprising, of course, since he’d be hard-pressed to make the case that the sky is falling or that consumers are somehow the victims of some horrendous plight.  Hell, most of these services don’t cost consumers a dime!  And they are constantly innovating and offering an improved consumer experience.  If this is “monopoly,” then give us more! What Tim Wu is really doing is propagating the simplistic old saw that “Big Is Bad.”  We could argue about how big is too big, but we shouldn’t confuse that debate with Wu’s mistaken redefinition of the term “monopoly.”  He has intentionally watered down the term “monopolist” such that it now means any combination of big firms he personally doesn’t approve of in markets that he has defined far too narrowly.   That’s not a proper understanding of the term “monopoly” and it most certainly isn’t an accurate representation of the real world of exciting digital innovation and ingenuity that we live in today.

What’s odd about the entire debate is, as mentioned above, Wu’s WSJ piece seems entirely clear where he stands on the welfare issue: the presence of a dominant firm in Internet markets is bad for consumers.  The column expresses a confidence in the “badness” of concentration that, in our view, just isn’t warranted by the current theoretical and empirical evidence in the industrial organization literature.  But rather than debate that (more important) point, we’ve got what we think is a bit of a sideshow on whether Thierer and Wu are talking about textbook definitions of monopoly, the legal definition, or something else.

What’s more—after Wu’s original WSJ piece ringing the alarm, or at least going to level orange, on Web 2.0 Robber Barons, his reply to Thierer takes the incredibly odd tack of offering a “corrective” to Thierer.  After all, Wu’s new post points out, all he was saying was that the presence of a dominant firm creates a monopoly, and he isn’t saying anything about welfare.  It’s all market structure: There’s nothing to see here, move along.  Thierer’s claims that Wu said anything about redefining monopolist are “sowing confusion and misleading the public” and are owed to his incorrect substitution of the “legal” definition of monopoly rather than a pure economic definition.

Now, Wu knows full well that he has constructed a long meditation in the Saturday Wall Street Journal fretting about Internet monopolies.  I’m sure he can point to all kinds of qualifying words in his piece that permit plausible deniability of his apparent claim that big is, indeed, bad.  But the effect (and, presumably, the intent) of Wu’s piece is, as we have said, quite clear:  We all suffer from these monopolies and they should be destroyed.  For Wu now to claim that he’s merely pointing out that, good or bad, there are some firms that have large shares of certain online markets (as he casually defines them) is preposterous.  For him to hide behind an allegedly-economic definition of monopoly (which, by the way, requires an economic definition of the relevant market—an analysis that is wholly absent from Wu’s piece) is even more preposterous, not least for his apparent complete lack of understanding of the economic definition of monopoly.

Here is Wu’s final answer on the true, “economic” definition of monopoly:

A monopoly is any firm that has a dominant share in the market for a given good or service (legal definitions range between 40% – 70%) resulting in power over that market.   That is the beginning and the end of the definition.   There is no further requirement that the firm be evil, gigantic, have caused consumer harm, be long-lasting, or anything else.

This is wrong, or at least woefully misleading.  As every Industrial Organization and Intermediate Microeconomics textbook makes clear, other than in the literal sense (as in “a single seller in a market”—which is the definition in Carlton & Perloff’s Modern Industrial Organization), a monopoly is a firm or firms that are not price-takers—in other words, that can control prices and maintain supra-competitive returns by charging an equilibrium price above marginal cost.  As Carlton & Perloff describe it, “in contrast to a price-taking competitive firm, a monopoly knows that it can set its own price and that the price chosen affects the quantity it sells.  Whenever a firm can influence the the price it receives for its product, the firm is said to have monopoly power or market power.  The terms monopoly power and market power typically are used interchangeably to mean the ability to set price above competitive levels.”   Wu’s attempt to distinguish from Thierer on the grounds that he is using a truly economic definition paints him into a bit of a corner here.  He surely does not mean the literal “single seller” definition.  But then, what is left?  If Wu is asserting the proposition that Google and eBay and Facebook all face downward sloping demand curves and thus have economic market power, i.e., the ability to price over marginal cost, well, so do nearly all firms in the economy.  On the other hand, if he’s saying that these firms have the power to control market prices and conditions (and not just their own prices), then this is indeed (by definition) a concession that the definition turns on the ability to engage in conduct that is socially harmful.  We think that Wu’s position—in the WSJ piece—is the latter.  But to the extent it is, it is a position that is incomplete from an economic perspective.

Monopoly as an economic concept—once used outside the strict “single seller” context—is not simply about the number of firms competing but, rather, in Irving Fisher’s phrase, “the absence of  competition.”  The fact that competition is extraordinarily complex means that facile definitions like “having a dominant share” or “one firm in a market” are inadequate and it is well-understood that markets with only one seller can be competitive.  Wu’s effort to bring in market power is closer, but now we’re talking about market definition and a host of other concepts that are, in fact, completely absent from Wu’s assessment.

As Adam points out, there is a lot of competition among Wu’s purported monopolists, but the failure to see this (or to point it out) is a function of Wu’s crabbed market definitions.  But on Wu’s own terms, it’s really hard to see the above-marginal-cost pricing in these markets.  From the point of view of the buyers whom Wu is using to define his markets, these monopolists are really pathetic at extracting profits, as most of them give away their products for free and/or have brought so much efficient competition that they have dramatically lowered prices overall (think Amazon).  I guess once Amazon puts all other retailers—including Wal-Mart, Target, Best Buy, Barnes & Noble, etc., etc.—out of business we’ll all suffer mightily.  But that simply isn’t going to happen (and, meanwhile, the presence of all these retailers with substantial online presences, as well as off) puts paid to Wu’s claims about single firm dominance.

By the way—also well-worth a read on this is the DOJ’s Section 2 Report, especially Chapter 2 on monopoly power, or Josh’s piece on the distinction between economic market power and market power in antitrust law.  In a nutshell:  market share is, at best, the beginning, not the end, of the monopoly power analysis.

But that’s all beside the real point, isn’t it?

The real debate is over whether concentration in Internet industries systematically leads to reduced innovation, consumer welfare, and economic growth.  We thought perhaps we’d chime in with a post and attempt to tempt Wu to engage in that debate.  After all, the WSJ article was filled with assertions and anecdotes about the certainty of future harm following from a so-called “age of monopolists.”  That debate is where the action is.  Indeed, one of the primary changes in antitrust economics over the past 40 years has been a shift from reliance on market concentration as a predictor of competitive effects to other, more reliable measures.   For example, the changes to the most recent Horizontal Merger Guidelines.  But let’s not get distracted.  It would be a great debate to have.

But it now appears that Professor Wu—at least in his blog posts—has stood down on that front.  Forget the odes to 1960 antitrust and forget the promises of economic stagnation and consumer harm to come.  The point was merely, we are told, to point out that sometimes (if one assumes a particular market definition) one can find firms with large shares in Internet markets and this might be good, might be bad, or none of the above.   Well, that’s not saying much about Internet markets and frankly, it’s not saying much of anything at all, is it?  We can all certainly agree that the ubiquity of two-sided markets, network externalities, and other features of internet markets can sometimes lead to relatively concentrated markets or the presence of a dominant firm.  We can probably also all agree that these market structures are often efficient, involve serious competition for the market, and lead to boons for consumer welfare.

We could all agree on that, right?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  But let us be frank about this: the policy preferences in Wu’s WSJ piece are not well-camouflaged and they should be of concern to those who actually care about consumer welfare arising from these important—and oft-demonized—firms.  Does anybody who read the WSJ piece really believe that the point was that Internet markets get concentrated sometimes?   We don’t.  Thierer didn’t—and he got a “correction” on the definition of monopolization for his efforts.

We’re not so interested in the corrective on the definition of monopoly.  But, Professor Wu, how about a debate on the merits of the substantive claims that concentration in Internet markets leads to consumer harm?  Or the merits of the good old days of antitrust?