Archives For European Commission

Since Brussels has ordered Ireland to recover 13€ billion from Apple, much ink has been spilled on the European Commission’s (EC) alleged misuse of power and breach of the “rule of law.” In the Irish Times, Professor Liza Lovdahl-Gormsen wrote that the EC has been “bending” competition law to pursue a corporate taxation agenda in disguise. Former European Commissioner Neelie Kroes went so far as to suggest that the EC was attempting to rewrite international tax rules.

Conspiracy stories sell well, all the more so when the EC administration is on display. Yet, the claim that the Apple case is not a genuine competition case is a trick often used to deride enforcement — one that papers over an old lesson of mainstream economics: that monopolists are particularly good at “acquiring” public interest legislation. Nobel Prize winner George Stigler once wrote that “the most obvious contribution that a group may seek of the government is a direct subsidy of money.”  

While this basic economic teaching is not the narrative behind the EC decision against Ireland, there are clear signs that Apple is a textbook monopolist, and that rent-seeking theory could thus assist the EC in the forthcoming appeal. Let us look closer. Year after year, Apple sits atop the rankings as the most successful company of the 21st century. It has been the world’s largest company by market capitalization for some time. It is also the most profitable company in the history of the modern economy. Its flagship product, the iPhone, is the most expensive mass-market smartphone ever sold. On each device, Apple’s earns a 69% gross margin. Last year, industry analysts were taken aback when Apple outsold Samsung.

Granted, high prices and large profits do not a monopolist make. So let us consider other metrics: among tech’s frightful five, Apple is the slacker when it comes to investing in innovation: It spent about 3.5% of its revenue on research and development in 2016. By way of comparison, Alphabet (Google) spent 16%, Microsoft spent 14%, and Facebook spent a whopping 27%. Apple didn’t even feature in the EU ranking of the top 50 highest R&D-intensive companies, trailing behind a host of less-glitzy manufacturers of telecoms infrastructure equipment like Nokia and Ericsson and even “mundane” suppliers of cars, chemicals, and agricultural products. At such low levels of R&D investment, it is even questionable that Apple can be called a “high tech” company (the minimum to be part of that league is 5-7.5%). 

Apple also features as the world champ payer of dividends and purchaser of its own shares in financial analysts’ recommendations. Instead of retaining earnings to devote to internal R&D projects as a patient capitalist, Apple returns comparatively more profits to shareholders than any of its peers. It also sits atop a mountain of unproductive capital.

Beyond financial numbers, Apple’s body language also denotes behavioural signs of monopoly power. In his best seller, “Zero to One,” Peter Thiel writes that “monopolists lie to protect themselves.” Apple is a grandmaster at this game. In a bid to reduce the prices it pays for certain inputs, Apple has routinely claimed to be an antitrust victim in proceedings in the US, the EU, and Asia, accusing upstream component suppliers and innovators such as Qualcomm and Nokia, but also rivals such as Samsung, of unlawful monopolization. To assist it, Apple enlisted the help of a former European Commission official who spent over ten years spearheading the EU’s assaults on Intel, Microsoft, Google and other high-tech firms. To the trained observer, this should come as no surprise. For monopolists, the ends justify the means – including efforts to instrumentalise the regulatory process. 

With such facts in mind, it is now much less obvious that the EC Apple tax case is not plain vanilla competition policy, and much more clear that Apple behaved as a textbook rent-seeking monopolist when it secured 13€ billion from the Irish Government. 

That monopolists expend vast resources in rent-seeking, unproductive activities aimed at capturing rents from governments is a fundamental teaching of modern economic theory.  Like theft, corruption or bribery, those resources – and those invested by governments to counter rent-seeking strategies – are pure waste; they generate no socially valuable production. The EC would be well advised to keep this narrative in mind when defending its case against allegations of unlawful tax harmonization before the EU courts. As I often tell my students, forget the legalese; go for the big picture.

Since the European Commission (EC) announced its first inquiry into Google’s business practices in 2010, the company has been the subject of lengthy investigations by courts and competition agencies around the globe. Regulatory authorities in the United States, France, the United Kingdom, Canada, Brazil, and South Korea have all opened and rejected similar antitrust claims.

And yet the EC marches on, bolstered by Google’s myriad competitors, who continue to agitate for further investigations and enforcement actions, even as we — companies and consumers alike — enjoy the benefits of an increasingly dynamic online marketplace.

Indeed, while the EC has spent more than half a decade casting about for some plausible antitrust claim, the online economy has thundered ahead. Since 2010, Facebook has tripled its active users and multiplied its revenue ninefold; the number of apps available in the Amazon app store has grown from less than 4000 to over 400,000 today; and there are almost 1.5 billion more Internet users globally than there were in 2010. And consumers are increasingly using new and different ways to search for information: Amazon’s Alexa, Apple’s Siri, Microsoft’s Cortana, and Facebook’s Messenger are a few of the many new innovations challenging traditional search engines.

Advertisers have adapted to this evolution, moving increasingly online, and from search to display ads as mobile adoption has skyrocketedSocial networks like Twitter and Snapchat have come into their own, competing for the same (and ever-increasing) advertising dollars. For marketers, advertising on social networks is now just as important as advertising in search. No wonder e-commerce sales have more than doubled, to almost $2 trillion worldwide; for the first time, consumers purchased more online than in stores this past year.

To paraphrase Louis C.K.: Everything is amazing — and no one at the European Commission is happy.

The EC’s market definition is fatally flawed

Like its previous claims, the Commission’s most recent charges are rooted in the assertion that Google abuses its alleged dominance in “general search” advertising to unfairly benefit itself and to monopolize other markets. But European regulators continue to miss the critical paradigm shift among online advertisers and consumers that has upended this stale view of competition on the Internet. The reality is that Google’s competition may not, and need not, look exactly like Google itself, but it is competition nonetheless. And it’s happening in spades.

The key to understanding why the European Commission’s case is fundamentally flawed lies in an examination of how it defines the relevant market. Through a series of economically and factually unjustified assumptions, the Commission defines search as a distinct market in which Google faces limited competition and enjoys an 80% market share. In other words, for the EC, “general search” apparently means only nominal search providers like Google and Bing; it doesn’t mean companies like Amazon, Facebook and Twitter — Google’s biggest competitors.  

But the reality is that “general search” is just one technology among many for serving information and ads to consumers online. Defining the relevant market or limiting the definition of competition in terms of the particular mechanism that Google happens to use to match consumers and advertisers doesn’t reflect the substitutability of other mechanisms that do the same thing — merely because these mechanisms aren’t called “search.”

Properly defined, the market in which Google competes online is not search, but something more like online “matchmaking” between advertisers, retailers and consumers. And this market is enormously competitive.

Consumers today are increasingly using platforms like Amazon and Facebook as substitutes for the searches they might have run on Google or Bing. “Closed” platforms like the iTunes store and innumerable apps handle copious search traffic but also don’t figure in the EC’s market calculations. And so-called “dark social” interactions like email, text messages, and IMs, drive huge amounts of some of the most valuable traffic on the Internet. This, in turn, has led to a competitive scramble to roll out completely new technologies like chatbots to meet consumers’ informational (and merchants’ advertising) needs.

Properly construed, Google’s market position is precarious

Like Facebook and Twitter (and practically every other Internet platform), advertising is Google’s primary source of revenue. Instead of charging for fancy hardware or offering services to users for a fee, Google offers search, the Android operating system, and a near-endless array of other valuable services for free to users. The company’s very existence relies on attracting Internet users and consumers to its properties in order to effectively connect them with advertisers.

But being an online matchmaker is a difficult and competitive enterprise. Among other things, the ability to generate revenue turns crucially on the quality of the match: All else equal, an advertiser interested in selling widgets will pay more for an ad viewed by a user who can be reliably identified as being interested in buying widgets.

Google’s primary mechanism for attracting users to match with advertisers — general search — is substantially about information, not commerce, and the distinction between product and informational searches is crucially important to understanding Google’s market and the surprisingly limited and tenuous market power it possesses.

General informational queries aren’t nearly as valuable to advertisers: Significantly, only about 30 percent of Google’s searches even trigger any advertising at all. Meanwhile, as of 2012, one-third of product searches started on Amazon while only 13% started on a general search engine.

As economist Hal Singer aptly noted in 2012,

[the data] suggest that Google lacks market power in a critical segment of search — namely, product searches. Even though searches for items such as power tools or designer jeans account for only 10 to 20 percent of all searches, they are clearly some of the most important queries for search engines from a business perspective, as they are far easier to monetize than informational queries like “Kate Middleton.”

While Google Search clearly offers substantial value to advertisers, its ability to continue to do so is precarious when confronted with the diverse array of competitors that, like Facebook, offer a level of granularity in audience targeting that general search can’t match, or that, like Amazon, systematically offer up the most valuable searchers.

In order to compete in this market — one properly defined to include actual competitors — Google has had to constantly innovate to maintain its position. Unlike a complacent monopolist, it has evolved to meet changing consumer demand, shifting technology and inventive competitors. Thus, Google’s search algorithm has changed substantially over the years to make more effective use of the information available to ensure relevance; search results have evolved to give consumers answers to queries rather than just links, and to provide more-direct access to products and services; and, as users have shifted more and more of their time and attention to mobile devices, search has incorporated more-localized results.

Competitors want a free lunch

Critics complain, nevertheless, that these developments have made it harder, in one way or another, for rivals to compete. And the EC has provided a willing ear. According to Commissioner Vestager last week:

Google has come up with many innovative products that have made a difference to our lives. But that doesn’t give Google the right to deny other companies the chance to compete and innovate. Today, we have further strengthened our case that Google has unduly favoured its own comparison shopping service in its general search result pages…. (Emphasis added).

Implicit in this statement is the remarkable assertion that by favoring its own comparison shopping services, Google “den[ies] other companies the chance to compete and innovate.” Even assuming Google does “favor” its own results, this is an astounding claim.

First, it is not a violation of competition law simply to treat competitors’ offerings differently than one’s own, even for a dominant firm. Instead, conduct must actually exclude competitors from the market, without offering countervailing advantages to consumers. But Google’s conduct is not exclusionary, and there are many benefits to consumers.

As it has from the start of its investigations of Google, the EC begins with a flawed assumption: that Google’s competitors both require, and may be entitled to, unfettered access to Google’s property in order to compete. But this is patently absurd. Google is not an essential facility: Billions of users reach millions of companies everyday through direct browser navigation, apps, email links, review sites and blogs, and countless other means — all without once touching

Google Search results do not exclude competitors, whether comparison shopping sites or others. For example, 72% of TripAdvisor’s U.S. traffic comes from search, and almost all of that from organic results; other specialized search sites see similar traffic volumes.

More important, however, in addition to continuing to reach rival sites through Google Search, billions of consumers access rival services directly through their mobile apps. In fact, for Yelp,

Approximately 21 million unique devices accessed Yelp via the mobile app on a monthly average basis in the first quarter of 2016, an increase of 32% compared to the same period in 2015. App users viewed approximately 70% of page views in the first quarter and were more than 10 times as engaged as website users, as measured by number of pages viewed. (Emphasis added).

And a staggering 40 percent of mobile browsing is now happening inside the Facebook app, competing with the browsers and search engines pre-loaded on smartphones.

Millions of consumers also directly navigate to Google’s rivals via their browser by simply typing, for example, “” in their address bar. And as noted above, consumers are increasingly using Google rivals’ new disruptive information engines like Alexa and Siri for their search needs. Even the traditional search engine space is competitive — in fact, according to Wired, as of July 2016:

Microsoft has now captured more than one-third of Internet searches. Microsoft’s transformation from a company that sells boxed software to one that sells services in the cloud is well underway. (Emphasis added).

With such numbers, it’s difficult to see how rivals are being foreclosed from reaching consumers in any meaningful way.

Meanwhile, the benefits to consumers are obvious: Google is directly answering questions for consumers rather than giving them a set of possible links to click through and further search. In some cases its results present entirely new and valuable forms of information (e.g., search trends and structured data); in others they serve to hone searches by suggesting further queries, or to help users determine which organic results (including those of its competitors) may be most useful. And, of course, consumers aren’t forced to endure these innovations if they don’t find them useful, as they can quickly switch to other providers.  

Nostalgia makes for bad regulatory policy

Google is not the unstoppable monopolist of the EU competition regulators’ imagining. Rather, it is a continual innovator, forced to adapt to shifting consumer demand, changing technology, and competitive industry dynamics. And, instead of trying to hamstring Google, if they are to survive, Google’s competitors (and complainants) must innovate as well.

Dominance in technology markets — especially online — has always been ephemeral. Once upon a time, MySpace, AOL, and Yahoo were the dominant Internet platforms. Kodak, once practically synonymous with “instant camera” let the digital revolution pass it by. The invincible Sony Walkman was upended by mp3s and the iPod. Staid, keyboard-operated Blackberries and Nokias simply couldn’t compete with app-driven, graphical platforms from Apple and Samsung. Even today, startups like Snapchat, Slack, and Spotify gain massive scale and upend entire industries with innovative new technology that can leave less-nimble incumbents in the dustbin of tech history.

Put differently, companies that innovate are able to thrive, while those that remain dependent on yesterday’s technology and outdated business models usually fail — and deservedly so. It should never be up to regulators to pick winners and losers in a highly dynamic and competitive market, particularly if doing so constrains the market’s very dynamism. As Alfonso Lamadrid has pointed out:

It is companies and not competition enforcers which will strive or fail in the adoption of their business models, and it is therefore companies and not competition enforcers who are to decide on what business models to use. Some will prove successful and others will not; some companies will thrive and some will disappear, but with experimentation with business models, success and failure are and have always been part of the game.

In other words, we should not forget that competition law is, or should be, business-model agnostic, and that regulators are – like anyone else – far from omniscient.

Like every other technology company before them, Google and its competitors must be willing and able to adapt in order to keep up with evolving markets — just as for Lewis Carroll’s Red Queen, “it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.” Google confronts a near-constantly evolving marketplace and fierce competition from unanticipated quarters; companies that build their businesses around Google face a near-constantly evolving Google. In the face of such relentless market dynamism, neither consumers nor firms are well served by regulatory policy rooted in nostalgia.  

Today’s Canadian Competition Bureau (CCB) Google decision marks yet another regulator joining the chorus of competition agencies around the world that have already dismissed similar complaints relating to Google’s Search or Android businesses (including the US FTC, the Korea FTC, the Taiwan FTC, and AG offices in Texas and Ohio).

A number of courts around the world have also rejected competition complaints against the company, including courts in the US, France, the UK, Germany, and Brazil.

After an extensive, three-year investigation into Google’s business practices in Canada, the CCB

did not find sufficient evidence that Google engaged in [search manipulation, preferential treatment of Google services, syndication agreements, distribution agreements, exclusion of competitors from its YouTube mobile app, or tying of mobile ads with those on PCs and tablets] for an anti-competitive purpose, and/or that the practices resulted in a substantial lessening or prevention of competition in any relevant market.

Like the US FTC, the CCB did find fault with Google’s use of restriction on its AdWords API — but Google had already revised those terms worldwide following the FTC investigation, and has committed to the CCB to maintain the revised terms for at least another 5 years.

Other than a negative ruling from Russia’s competition agency last year in favor of Yandex — essentially “the Russian Google,” and one of only a handful of Russian tech companies of significance (surely a coincidence…) — no regulator has found against Google on the core claims brought against it.

True, investigations in a few jurisdictions, including the EU and India, are ongoing. And a Statement of Objections in the EU’s Android competition investigation appears imminent. But at some point, regulators are going to have to take a serious look at the motivations of the entities that bring complaints before wasting more investigatory resources on their behalf.

Competitor after competitor has filed complaints against Google that amount to, essentially, a claim that Google’s superior services make it too hard to compete. But competition law doesn’t require that Google or any other large firm make life easier for competitors. Without a finding of exclusionary harm/abuse of dominance (and, often, injury to consumers), this just isn’t anticompetitive conduct — it’s competition. And the overwhelming majority of competition authorities that have examined the company have agreed.

Exactly when will regulators be a little more skeptical of competitors trying to game the antitrust laws for their own advantage?

Canada joins the chorus

The Canadian decision mirrors the reasoning that regulators around the world have employed in reaching the decision that Google hasn’t engaged in anticompetitive conduct.

Two of the more important results in the CCB’s decision relate to preferential treatment of Google’s services (e.g., promotion of its own Map or Shopping results, instead of links to third-party aggregators of the same services) — the tired “search bias” claim that started all of this — and the distribution agreements that Google enters into with device manufacturers requiring inclusion of Google search as a default installation on Google Android phones.

On these key issues the CCB was unequivocal in its conclusions.

On search bias:

The Bureau sought evidence of the harm allegedly caused to market participants in Canada as a result of any alleged preferential treatment of Google’s services. The Bureau did not find adequate evidence to support the conclusion that this conduct has had an exclusionary effect on rivals, or that it has resulted in a substantial lessening or prevention of competition in a market.

And on search distribution agreements:

Google competes with other search engines for the business of hardware manufacturers and software developers. Other search engines can and do compete for these agreements so they appear as the default search engine…. Consumers can and do change the default search engine on their desktop and mobile devices if they prefer a different one to the pre-loaded default…. Google’s distribution agreements have not resulted in a substantial lessening or prevention of competition in Canada.

And here is the crucial point of the CCB’s insight (which, so far, everyone but Russia seems to appreciate): Despite breathless claims from rivals alleging they can’t compete in the face of their placement in Google’s search results, data barriers to entry, or default Google search on mobile devices, Google does actually face significant competition. Both the search bias and Android distribution claims were dismissed essentially because, whatever competitors may prefer Google do, its conduct doesn’t actually preclude access to competing services.

The True North strong and free [of meritless competitor complaints]

Exclusionary conduct must, well, exclude. But surfacing Google’s own “subjective” search results, even if they aren’t as high quality, doesn’t exclude competitors, according to the CCB and the other regulatory agencies that have also dismissed such claims. Similarly, consumers’ ability to switch search engines (“competition is just a click away,” remember), as well as OEMs’ ability to ship devices with different search engine defaults, ensure that search competitors can access consumers.

Former FTC Commissioner Josh Wright’s analysis of “search bias” in Google’s results applies with equal force to these complaints:

It is critical to recognize that bias alone is not evidence of competitive harm and it must be evaluated in the appropriate antitrust economic context of competition and consumers, rather [than] individual competitors and websites… [but these results] are not useful from an antitrust policy perspective because they erroneously—and contrary to economic theory and evidence—presume natural and procompetitive product differentiation in search rankings to be inherently harmful.

The competitors that bring complaints to antitrust authorities seek to make a demand of Google that is rarely made of any company: that it must provide access to its competitors on equal terms. But one can hardly imagine a valid antitrust complaint arising because McDonald’s refuses to sell a Whopper. The law on duties to deal is heavily circumscribed for good reason, as Josh Wright and I have pointed out:

The [US Supreme] Court [in Trinko] warned that the imposition of a duty to deal would threaten to “lessen the incentive for the monopolist, the rival, or both to invest in… economically beneficial facilities.”… Because imposition of a duty to deal with rivals threatens to decrease the incentive to innovate by creating new ways of producing goods at lower costs, satisfying consumer demand, or creating new markets altogether, courts and antitrust agencies have been reluctant to expand the duty.

Requiring Google to link to other powerful and sophisticated online search companies, or to provide them with placement on Google Android mobile devices, on the precise terms it does its own products would reduce the incentives of everyone to invest in their underlying businesses to begin with.

This is the real threat to competition. And kudos to the CCB for recognizing it.

The CCB’s investigation was certainly thorough, and its decision appears to be well-reasoned. Other regulators should take note before moving forward with yet more costly investigations.

This blurb published yesterday by Competition Policy International nicely illustrates the problem with the growing focus on unilateral conduct investigations by the European Commission (EC) and other leading competition agencies:

EU: Qualcomm to face antitrust complaint on predatory pricing

Dec 03, 2015

The European Union is preparing an antitrust complaint against Qualcomm Inc. over suspected predatory pricing tactics that could hobble smaller rivals, according to three people familiar with the probe.

Regulators are in the final stages of preparing a so-called statement of objections, based on a complaint by a unit of Nvidia Corp., that asked the EU to act against predatory pricing for mobile-phone chips, the people said. Qualcomm designs chipsets that power most of the world’s smartphones, licensing its technology across the industry.

Qualcomm would add to a growing list of U.S. technology companies to face EU antitrust action, following probes into Google, Microsoft Corp. and Intel Corp. A statement of objections may lead to fines, capped at 10 percent of yearly global revenue, which can be avoided if a company agrees to make changes to business behavior.

Regulators are less advanced with another probe into whether the company grants payments, rebates or other financial incentives to customers in returning for buying Qualcomm chipsets. Another case that focused on complaints that the company was charging excessive royalties on patents was dropped in 2009.

“Predatory pricing” complaints by competitors of successful innovators are typically aimed at hobbling efficient rivals and reducing aggressive competition.  If and when successful, such rent-seeking complaints attenuate competitive vigor (thereby disincentivizing innovation) and tend to raise prices to consumers – a result inimical with antitrust’s overarching goal, consumer welfare promotion.  Although I admittedly am not privy to the facts at issue in the Qualcomm predatory pricing investigation, Nvidia is not a firm that fits the model of a rival being decimated by economic predation (given its overall success and its rapid growth and high profitability in smartchip markets).  In this competitive and dynamic industry, the likelihood that Qualcomm could recoup short-term losses from predation through sustainable monopoly pricing following Nvidia’s exit from the market would seem to be infinitesimally small or non-existent (even assuming pricing below average variable cost or average avoidable cost could be shown).  Thus, there is good reason to doubt the wisdom of the EC’s apparent decision to issue a statement of objections to Qualcomm regarding predatory pricing for mobile phone chips.

The investigation of (presumably loyalty) payments and rebates to buyers of Qualcomm chipsets also is unlikely to enhance consumer welfare.  As a general matter, such financial incentives lower costs to loyal customers, and may promote efficiencies such as guaranteed purchase volumes under favorable terms.  Although theoretically loyalty payments might be structured to effectuate anticompetitive exclusion of competitors under very special circumstances, as a general matter such payments – which like alleged “predatory” pricing typically benefit consumers – should not be a high priority for investigation by competition agencies.  This conclusion applies in spades to chipset markets, which are characterized by vigorous competition among successful firms.  Rebate schemes in dynamic markets of this sort are almost certainly a symptom of creative, welfare-enhancing competitive vigor, rather than inefficient exclusionary behavior.

A pattern of investigating price reductions and discounting plans in highly dynamic and innovative industries, exemplified by the EC’s Qualcomm investigations summarized above, is troubling in at least two respects.

First, it creates regulatory disincentives to aggressive welfare-enhancing competition aimed at capturing the customer’s favor.  Companies like Qualcomm, after being suitably chastised, may well “take the cue” and decide to avoid future trouble by “playing nice” and avoiding innovative discounting, to the detriment of future consumers and industry efficiency.

Second, the dedication of enforcement resources to investigating discounting practices by successful firms that (based on first principles and industry conditions) are highly likely to be procompetitive points to a severe misallocation of resources by the responsible competition agencies.  Such agencies should seek to optimize the use of their scarce resources by allocating them to the highest-valued targets in welfare terms, such as anticompetitive government restraints on competition and hard-core cartel conduct.  Spending any resources on chasing down what is almost certainly efficient unilateral pricing conduct not only sends a bad signal to industry (see point one), it suggests that agency priorities are badly misplaced.  (Admittedly, a problem faced by the EC and many other competition authorities is that they are required to respond to third party complaints, but the nature of that response and the resources allocated could be better calibrated to the likely merit of such complaints.  Whether the law should be changed to grant such competition authorities broad prosecutorial discretion to ignore clearly non-meritorious complaints (such as the wide discretion enjoyed by U.S. antitrust enforcers) is beyond the scope of this commentary, and merits separate treatment.)

A proper application of decision theory and its error cost approach could help the EC and other competition enforcers avoid the problem of inefficiently chasing down procompetitive unilateral conduct.  Such an approach would focus intensively on highly welfare inimical conduct that lacks credible efficiencies (thus minimizing false positives in enforcement) that can be pursued with a relatively low expenditure of administrative costs (given the lack of credible efficiency justifications that need to be evaluated).  As indicated above, a substantial allocation of resources to hard core cartel conduct, bid rigging, and anticompetitive government-imposed market distortions (including poorly designed regulations and state aids) would be consistent with such an approach.  Relatedly, investigating single firm conduct, which is central to spurring a dynamic competitive process and is often misdiagnosed as anticompetitive (thereby imposing false positive costs), should be deemphasized.  (Obviously, even under a decision-theoretic framework, certain agency resources would continue to be devoted to mandatory merger reviews and other core legally required agency functions.)

A basic premise of antitrust law (also called competition law) is that competition among private entities enhances economic welfare by reducing costs, increasing efficiency, and spurring innovation.  Government competition agencies around the world also compete, by devising different substantive and procedural rules to constrain private conduct in the name of promoting competition.  The welfare implications of that form of inter-jurisdictional competition are, however, ambiguous.  Public choice considerations suggest that self-interested competition agency staff have a strong incentive to promote rules that spawn many investigations and cases, in order to increase their budgets and influence.  Indeed, an agency may measure its success, both domestically and on the world stage, by the size of its budget and staff and the amount of enforcement activity it generates.  That activity, however, imposes costs on the private sector, and may produce restrictive rules that deter vigorous, welfare-enhancing competition.  Furthermore, and relatedly, it may generate substantial costs due to “false positives” – agency challenges to efficient conduct that should not have been brought.  (There are also costs stemming from “false negatives,” the failure to bring welfare-enhancing enforcement actions.  Decision theory indicates an agency should seek to minimize the sum of costs due to false positives and false negatives.)  Private enforcement of competition laws, until recently largely relegated to the United States, brings additional costs and complications, to the extent it yields ill-advised lawsuits.  Thus one should cast a wary eye at any increase in the scope of enforcement authority within a jurisdiction, and not assume automatically that it is desirable on public policy grounds.

These considerations should be brought to bear in assessing the implications of the 2014 European Union (EU) Damages Actions Directive (Directive), which is expected to yield a dramatic increase in private competition law enforcement in the EU.  The Directive establishes standards EU nations must adopt for the bringing of private competition lawsuits, including class actions.  The 28 EU member states have until December 27, 2016 to adopt national laws, regulations, and administrative provisions that implement the Directive.  In short, the Directive (1) makes it easier for private plaintiffs to have access to evidence; (2) gives a final finding of violation by a national competition agency conclusive effect in private actions brought in national courts and prima facie presumptive effect in private actions brought in other EU nations; (3) establishes clear and uniform statutes of limitation; (4) allows both direct and indirect purchasers of overpriced goods to bring private actions; (5) clarifies that private victims are entitled to full compensation for losses suffered, including compensation for actual loss and for loss of profit, plus interest; (6) establishes a rebuttable presumption that cartels cause harm; and (7) provides for joint and several liability (any participant in a competition law infringement will be responsible towards the victims for the whole harm caused by the infringement, but may seek contribution from other infringers).

By facilitating the bringing of lawsuits for cartel overcharges by both direct and indirect purchasers (see here), the Directive should substantially expand private cartel litigation in Europe.  (It may also redirect some cartel-related litigation from United States tribunals, which up to now have been the favorite venues for such actions.  Potential treble damages recoveries still make U.S. antitrust courts an attractive venue, but limitations on indirect purchaser suits and Sherman Act jurisdictional constraints requiring a “direct, substantial and reasonably foreseeable effect” effect on U.S. commerce create complications for foreign plaintiffs.)  Given the fact that cartels have no redeeming features, this feature may be expected to increase disincentives for cartel conduct and thereby raise welfare.  (The degree of welfare enhancement depends on the extent to which legitimate activity may be misidentified as cartel conduct, yielding “false positive” damage actions.)

The outlook is less sanguine for non-cartel cases, however.  The Directive applies equally to vertical restraints and abuse of dominance cases, which are far more likely to yield false positives.  In my experience, EU enforcers are more comfortable than U.S. enforcers at pursuing cases based on attenuated theories of exclusionary conduct that have a weak empirical basis.  (The EU’s continued investigation of Google, based on economically inappropriate theories that were rejected by the U.S. FTC, is a prime example.)  In particular, the implementation of the Directive will raise the financial risks for “dominant” or “potentially dominant” firms operating in Europe, who may be further disincentivized from undertaking novel welfare-enhancing business practices that preserve or raise their market share.  This could further harm the vitality of the European business sector.

Hopefully, individual EU states will seek to implement the Directive in a manner that takes into account the serious risk of false positives in non-cartel cases.  The welfare implications of the Directive’s implementation are well worth further competition law scholarship.

Nearly all economists from across the political spectrum agree: free trade is good. Yet free trade agreements are not always the same thing as free trade. Whether we’re talking about the Trans-Pacific Partnership or the European Union’s Digital Single Market (DSM) initiative, the question is always whether the agreement in question is reducing barriers to trade, or actually enacting barriers to trade into law.

It’s becoming more and more clear that there should be real concerns about the direction the EU is heading with its DSM. As the EU moves forward with the 16 different action proposals that make up this ambitious strategy, we should all pay special attention to the actual rules that come out of it, such as the recent Data Protection Regulation. Are EU regulators simply trying to hogtie innovators in the the wild, wild, west, as some have suggested? Let’s break it down. Here are The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly.

The Good

The Data Protection Regulation, as proposed by the Ministers of Justice Council and to be taken up in trilogue negotiations with the Parliament and Council this month, will set up a single set of rules for companies to follow throughout the EU. Rather than having to deal with the disparate rules of 28 different countries, companies will have to follow only the EU-wide Data Protection Regulation. It’s hard to determine whether the EU is right about its lofty estimate of this benefit (€2.3 billion a year), but no doubt it’s positive. This is what free trade is about: making commerce “regular” by reducing barriers to trade between states and nations.

Additionally, the Data Protection Regulation would create a “one-stop shop” for consumers and businesses alike. Regardless of where companies are located or process personal information, consumers would be able to go to their own national authority, in their own language, to help them. Similarly, companies would need to deal with only one supervisory authority.

Further, there will be benefits to smaller businesses. For instance, the Data Protection Regulation will exempt businesses smaller than a certain threshold from the obligation to appoint a data protection officer if data processing is not a part of their core business activity. On top of that, businesses will not have to notify every supervisory authority about each instance of collection and processing, and will have the ability to charge consumers fees for certain requests to access data. These changes will allow businesses, especially smaller ones, to save considerable money and human capital. Finally, smaller entities won’t have to carry out an impact assessment before engaging in processing unless there is a specific risk. These rules are designed to increase flexibility on the margin.

If this were all the rules were about, then they would be a boon to the major American tech companies that have expressed concern about the DSM. These companies would be able to deal with EU citizens under one set of rules and consumers would be able to take advantage of the many benefits of free flowing information in the digital economy.

The Bad

Unfortunately, the substance of the Data Protection Regulation isn’t limited simply to preempting 28 bad privacy rules with an economically sensible standard for Internet companies that rely on data collection and targeted advertising for their business model. Instead, the Data Protection Regulation would set up new rules that will impose significant costs on the Internet ecosphere.

For instance, giving citizens a “right to be forgotten” sounds good, but it will considerably impact companies built on providing information to the world. There are real costs to administering such a rule, and these costs will not ultimately be borne by search engines, social networks, and advertisers, but by consumers who ultimately will have to find either a different way to pay for the popular online services they want or go without them. For instance, Google has had to hire a large “team of lawyers, engineers and paralegals who have so far evaluated over half a million URLs that were requested to be delisted from search results by European citizens.”

Privacy rights need to be balanced with not only economic efficiency, but also with the right to free expression that most European countries hold (though not necessarily with a robust First Amendment like that in the United States). Stories about the right to be forgotten conflicting with the ability of journalists to report on issues of public concern make clear that there is a potential problem there. The Data Protection Regulation does attempt to balance the right to be forgotten with the right to report, but it’s not likely that a similar rule would survive First Amendment scrutiny in the United States. American companies accustomed to such protections will need to be wary operating under the EU’s standard.

Similarly, mandating rules on data minimization and data portability may sound like good design ideas in light of data security and privacy concerns, but there are real costs to consumers and innovation in forcing companies to adopt particular business models.

Mandated data minimization limits the ability of companies to innovate and lessens the opportunity for consumers to benefit from unexpected uses of information. Overly strict requirements on data minimization could slow down the incredible growth of the economy from the Big Data revolution, which has provided a plethora of benefits to consumers from new uses of information, often in ways unfathomable even a short time ago. As an article in Harvard Magazine recently noted,

The story [of data analytics] follows a similar pattern in every field… The leaders are qualitative experts in their field. Then a statistical researcher who doesn’t know the details of the field comes in and, using modern data analysis, adds tremendous insight and value.

And mandated data portability is an overbroad per se remedy for possible exclusionary conduct that could also benefit consumers greatly. The rule will apply to businesses regardless of market power, meaning that it will also impair small companies with no ability to actually hurt consumers by restricting their ability to take data elsewhere. Aside from this, multi-homing is ubiquitous in the Internet economy, anyway. This appears to be another remedy in search of a problem.

The bad news is that these rules will likely deter innovation and reduce consumer welfare for EU citizens.

The Ugly

Finally, the Data Protection Regulation suffers from an ugly defect: it may actually be ratifying a form of protectionism into the rules. Both the intent and likely effect of the rules appears to be to “level the playing field” by knocking down American Internet companies.

For instance, the EU has long allowed flexibility for US companies operating in Europe under the US-EU Safe Harbor. But EU officials are aiming at reducing this flexibility. As the Wall Street Journal has reported:

For months, European government officials and regulators have clashed with the likes of Google, and Facebook over everything from taxes to privacy…. “American companies come from outside and act as if it was a lawless environment to which they are coming,” [Commissioner Reding] told the Journal. “There are conflicts not only about competition rules but also simply about obeying the rules.” In many past tussles with European officialdom, American executives have countered that they bring innovation, and follow all local laws and regulations… A recent EU report found that European citizens’ personal data, sent to the U.S. under Safe Harbor, may be processed by U.S. authorities in a way incompatible with the grounds on which they were originally collected in the EU. Europeans allege this harms European tech companies, which must play by stricter rules about what they can do with citizens’ data for advertising, targeting products and searches. Ms. Reding said Safe Harbor offered a “unilateral advantage” to American companies.

Thus, while “when in Rome…” is generally good advice, the Data Protection Regulation appears to be aimed primarily at removing the “advantages” of American Internet companies—at which rent-seekers and regulators throughout the continent have taken aim. As mentioned above, supporters often name American companies outright in the reasons for why the DSM’s Data Protection Regulation are needed. But opponents have noted that new regulation aimed at American companies is not needed in order to police abuses:

Speaking at an event in London, [EU Antitrust Chief] Ms. Vestager said it would be “tricky” to design EU regulation targeting the various large Internet firms like Facebook, Inc. and eBay Inc. because it was hard to establish what they had in common besides “facilitating something”… New EU regulation aimed at reining in large Internet companies would take years to create and would then address historic rather than future problems, Ms. Vestager said. “We need to think about what it is we want to achieve that can’t be achieved by enforcing competition law,” Ms. Vestager said.

Moreover, of the 15 largest Internet companies, 11 are American and 4 are Chinese. None is European. So any rules applying to the Internet ecosphere are inevitably going to disproportionately affect these important, US companies most of all. But if Europe wants to compete more effectively, it should foster a regulatory regime friendly to Internet business, rather than extend inefficient privacy rules to American companies under the guise of free trade.


Near the end of the The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, Blondie and Tuco have this exchange that seems apropos to the situation we’re in:

Bloeastwoodndie: [watching the soldiers fighting on the bridge] I have a feeling it’s really gonna be a good, long battle.
Tuco: Blondie, the money’s on the other side of the river.
Blondie: Oh? Where?
Tuco: Amigo, I said on the other side, and that’s enough. But while the Confederates are there we can’t get across.
Blondie: What would happen if somebody were to blow up that bridge?

The EU’s DSM proposals are going to be a good, long battle. But key players in the EU recognize that the tech money — along with the services and ongoing innovation that benefit EU citizens — is really on the other side of the river. If they blow up the bridge of trade between the EU and the US, though, we will all be worse off — but Europeans most of all.

The precise details underlying the European Commission’s (EC) April 15 Statement of Objections (SO), the EC’s equivalent of an antitrust complaint, against Google, centered on the company’s promotion of its comparison shopping service (CSS), “Google Shopping,” have not yet been made public.  Nevertheless, the EC’s fact sheet describing the theory of the case is most discouraging to anyone who believes in economically sound, consumer welfare-oriented antitrust enforcement.   Put simply, the SO alleges that Google is “abusing its dominant position” in online search services throughout Europe by systematically positioning and prominently displaying its CSS in its general search result pages, “irrespective of its merits,” causing the Google CSS to achieve higher rates of growth than CSSs promoted by rivals.  According to the EC, this behavior “has a negative impact on consumers and innovation”.  Why so?  Because this “means that users do not necessarily see the most relevant shopping results in response to their queries, and that incentives to innovate from rivals are lowered as they know that however good their product, they will not benefit from the same prominence as Google’s product.”  (Emphasis added.)  The EC’s proposed solution?  “Google should treat its own comparison shopping services and those of rivals in the same way.”

The EC’s latest action may represent only “the tip of a Google EC antitrust iceberg,” since the EC has stated that it is continuing to investigate other aspects of Google’s behavior, including Google agreements with respect to the Android operating system, plus “the favourable treatment by Google in its general search results of other specialised search services, and concerns with regard to copying of rivals’ web content (known as ‘scraping’), advertising exclusivity and undue restrictions on advertisers.”  For today, I focus on the tip, leaving consideration of the bulk of the iceberg to future commentaries, as warranted.  (Truth on the Market has addressed Google-related antitrust issues previously — see, for example, here, here, and here.)

The EC’s April 15 Google SO is troublesome in multiple ways.

First, the claim that Google does not “necessarily” array the most relevant search results in a manner desired by consumers appears to be in tension with the findings of an exhaustive U.S. antitrust investigation of the company.  As U.S. Federal Trade Commissioner Josh Wright pointed out in a recent speech, the FTC’s 2013 “closing statement [in its Google investigation] indicates that Google’s so-called search bias did not, in fact, harm consumers; to the contrary, the evidence suggested that ‘Google likely benefited consumers by prominently displaying its vertical content on its search results page.’  The Commission reached this conclusion based upon, among other things, analyses of actual consumer behavior – so-called ‘click through’ data – which showed how consumers reacted to Google’s promotion of its vertical properties.”

Second, even assuming that Google’s search engine practices have weakened competing CSSs, that would not justify EC enforcement action against Google.  As Commissioner Wright also explained, the FTC “accepted arguments made by competing websites that Google’s practices injured them and strengthened Google’s market position, but correctly found that these were not relevant considerations in a proper antitrust analysis focused upon consumer welfare rather than harm to competitors.”  The EC should keep this in mind, given that, as former EC Competition Commissioner Joaquin Almunia emphasized, “[c]onsumer welfare is not just a catchy phrase.  It is the cornerstone, the guiding principle of EU competition policy.”

Third, and perhaps most fundamentally, although EC disclaims an interest in “interfere[ing] with” Google’s search engine algorithm, dictating an “equal treatment of competitors” result implicitly would require intrusive micromanagement of Google’s search engine – a search engine which is at the heart of the company’s success and has bestowed enormous welfare benefits on consumers and producers alike.  There is no reason to believe that EC policing of EC CSS listings to promote an “equal protection of competitors” mandate would result in a search experience that better serves consumers than the current Google policy.  Consistent with this point, in its 2013 Google closing statement, the FTC observed that it lacked the ability to “second-guess” product improvements that plausibly benefit consumers, and it stressed that “condemning legitimate product improvements risks harming consumers.”

Fourth, competing CSSs have every incentive to inform consumers if they believe that Google search results are somehow “inferior” to their offerings.  They are free to advertise and publicize the merits of their services, and third party intermediaries that rate browsers may be expected to report if Google Shopping consistently offers suboptimal consumer services.  In short, “the word will get out.”  Even in the absence of perfect information, consumers can readily at low cost browse alternative CSSs to determine whether they prefer their services to Google’s – “help is only a click away.”

Fifth, the most likely outcome of an EC “victory” in this case would be a reduced incentive for Google to invest in improving its search engine, knowing that its ability to monetize search engine improvements could be compromised by future EC decisions to prevent an improved search engine from harming rivals.  What’s worse, other developers of service platforms and other innovative business improvements would similarly “get the message” that it would not be worth their while to innovate to the point of dominance, because their returns to such innovation would be constrained.  In sum, companies in a wide variety of sectors would have less of an incentive to innovate, and this in turn would lead to reduced welfare gains and benefits to consumers.  This would yield (as the EC’s fact sheet put it) “a negative impact on consumers and innovation”, because companies across industries operating in Europe would know that if their product were too good, they would attract the EC’s attention and be put in their place.  In other words, a successful EC intervention here could spawn the very welfare losses (magnified across sectors) that the Commission cited as justification for reining in Google in the first place!

Finally, it should come as no surprise that a coalition of purveyors of competing search engines and online shopping sites lobbied hard for EC antitrust action against Google.  When government intervenes heavily and often in markets to “correct” perceived “abuses,” private actors have a strong incentive to expend resources on achieving government actions that disadvantage their rivals – resources that could otherwise have been used to compete more vigorously and effectively.  In short, the very existence of expansive regulatory schemes disincentivizes competition on the merits, and in that regard tends to undermine welfare.  Government officials should keep that firmly in mind when private actors urge them to act decisively to “cure” marketplace imperfections by limiting a rival’s freedom of action.

Let us hope that the EC takes these concerns to heart before taking further action against Google.

On Tuesday the European Commission opened formal proceedings against Motorola Mobility based on its patent licensing practices surrounding some of its core cellular telephony, Internet video and Wi-fi technology. The Commission’s concerns, echoing those raised by Microsoft and Apple, center on Motorola’s allegedly high royalty rates and its efforts to use injunctions to enforce the “standards-essential patents” at issue.

As it happens, this development is just the latest, like so many in the tech world these days, in Microsoft’s ongoing regulatory, policy and legal war against Google, which announced in August it was planning to buy Motorola.

Microsoft’s claim and the Commission’s concern that Motorola’s royalty offer was, in Microsoft’s colorful phrase, “so over-reaching that no rational company could ever have accepted it or even viewed it as a legitimate offer,” is misplaced. Motorola is seeking a royalty rate for its patents that is seemingly in line with customary rates.

In fact, Microsoft’s claim that Motorola’s royalty ask is extraordinary is refuted by its own conduct. As one commentator notes:

Microsoft complained that it might have to pay a tribute of up to $22.50 for every $1,000 laptop sold, and suggested that it might be fairer to pay just a few cents. This is the firm that is thought to make $10 to $15 from every $500 Android device that is sold, and for a raft of trivial software patents, not standard essential ones.

Seemingly forgetting this, Microsoft criticizes Motorola’s royalty ask on its 50 H.264 video codec patents by comparing it to the amount Microsoft pays for more than 2000 other patents in the video codec’s patent pool, claiming that the former would cost it $4 billion while the latter costs it only $6.5 million. But this is comparing apples and oranges. It is not surprising to find some patents worth orders of magnitude more than others and to find that license rates are a complicated function of the contracting parties’ particular negotiating positions and circumstances. It is no more inherently inappropriate for Microsoft to rake in 2-3% of the price of every Nook Barnes and Nobles sells than it is for Motorola to net 2.25% of the price of each Windows-operated computer sold – which is the royalty rate Motorola is seeking and which Microsoft wants declared anticompetitive out of hand.

It’s not clear how much negotiation, if any, has taken place between the companies over the terms of Microsoft’s licensing of Motorola’s patents, but what is clear is that Microsoft’s complaint, echoed by the EC, is based on the size of Motorola’s initial royalty demand and its use of a legal injunction to enforce its patent rights. Unfortunately, neither of these is particularly problematic, especially in an environment where companies like Microsoft and Apple aggressively wield exactly such tools to gain a competitive negotiating edge over their own competitors.

The court adjudicating this dispute in the ongoing litigation in U.S. district court in Washington has thus far agreed. The court denied Microsoft’s request for summary judgment that Motorola’s royalty demand violated its RAND commitment, noting its disagreement with Microsoft’s claim that “it is always facially unreasonable for a proposed royalty rate to result in a larger royalty payment for products that have higher end prices. Indeed, Motorola has previously entered into licensing agreements for its declared-essential patents at royalty rates similar to those offered to Microsoft and with royalty rates based on the price of the end product.”

The staggering aggregate numbers touted by Microsoft in its complaint and repeated by bloggers and journalists the world over are not a function of Motorola seeking an exorbitant royalty but rather a function Microsoft’s selling a lot of operating systems and earning a lot of revenue doing it. While the aggregate number ($4 billion, according to Microsoft) is huge, it is, as the court notes, based on a royalty rate that is in line with similar agreements.

The court also takes issue with Microsoft’s contention that the mere offer of allegedly unreasonable terms constitutes a breach of Motorola’s RAND commitment to license its patents on commercially reasonable terms. Quite sensibly, the court notes:

[T]he court is mindful that at the time of an initial offer, it is difficult for the offeror to know what would in fact constitute RAND terms for the offeree. Thus, what may appear to be RAND terms from the offeror’s perspective may be rejected out-of-pocket as non-RAND terms by the offeree. Indeed, it would appear that at any point in the negotiation process, the parties may have a genuine disagreement as to what terms and conditions of a license constitute RAND under the parties’ unique circumstances.

Resolution of such an impasse may ultimately fall to the courts. Thus the royalty rate issue is in fact closely related to the second issue raised by the EC’s investigation: the use or threat of injunction to enforce standards-essential patents.

While some scholars and many policy advocates claim that injunctions in the standards context raise the specter of costly hold-ups (patent holders extracting not only the market value of their patent, but also a portion of the costs that the infringer would incur if it had to implement its technology without the patent), there is no empirical evidence supporting the claim that patent holdup is a pervasive problem.

And the theory doesn’t comfortably support such a claim, either. Motorola, for example, has no interest in actually enforcing an injunction: Doing so is expensive and, notably, not nearly as good for the bottom line as actually receiving royalties from an agreed-upon contract. Instead, injunctions are, just like the more-attenuated liability suit for patent infringement, a central aspect of our intellectual property system, the means by which innovators and their financiers can reasonably expect a return on their substantial up-front investments in technology development.

Moreover, and apparently unbeknownst to those who claim that injunctions are the antithesis of negotiated solutions to licensing contests, the threat of injunction actually facilitates efficient transacting. Injunctions provide clearer penalties than damage awards for failing to reach consensus and are thus better at getting both parties on to the table with matched expectations. And this is especially true in the standards-setting context where the relevant parties are generally repeat players and where they very often have both patents to license and the need to license patents from the standard—both of which help to induce everyone to come to the table, lest they find themselves closed off from patents essential to their own products.

Antitrust intervention in standard setting negotiations based on an allegedly high initial royalty rate offer or the use of an injunction to enforce a patent is misdirected and costly. One of the clearest statements of the need for antitrust restraint in the standard setting context comes from a June 2011 comment filed with the FTC:

[T]he existence of a RAND commitment to offer patent licenses should not preclude a patent holder from seeking preliminary injunctive relief. . . . Any uniform declaration that such relief would not be available if the patent holder has made a commitment to offer a RAND license for its essential patent claims in connection with a standard may reduce any incentives that implementers might have to engage in good faith negotiations with the patent holder.

Most of the SSOs and their stakeholders that have considered these proposals over the years have determined that there are only a limited number of situations where patent hold-up takes place in the context of standards-setting. The industry has determined that those situations generally are best addressed through bi-lateral negotiation (and, in rare cases, litigation) as opposed to modifying the SSO’s IPR policy [by precluding injunctions or mandating a particular negotiation process].

The statement’s author? Why, Microsoft, of course.

Patents are an important tool for encouraging the development and commercialization of advanced technology, as are standard setting organizations. Antitrust authorities should exercise great restraint before intervening in the complex commercial negotiations over technology patents and standards. In Motorola’s case, the evidence of conduct that might harm competition is absent, and all that remains are, in essence, allegations that Motorola is bargaining hard and enforcing its property rights. The EC should let competition run its course.

I am disappointed but not surprised to see that my former employer filed an official antitrust complaint against Google in the EU.  The blog post by Microsoft’s GC, Brad Smith, summarizing its complaint is here.

Most obviously, there is a tragic irony to the most antitrust-beleaguered company ever filing an antitrust complaint against its successful competitor.  Of course the specifics are not identical, but all of the atmospheric and general points that Microsoft itself made in response to the claims against it are applicable here.  It smacks of competitors competing not in the marketplace but in the regulators’ offices.  It promotes a kind of weird protectionism, directing the EU’s enforcement powers against a successful US company . . . at the behest of another US competitor.  Regulators will always be fighting last year’s battles to the great detriment of the industry.  Competition and potential competition abound, even where it may not be obvious (Linux for Microsoft; Facebook for Google, for example).  Etc.  Microsoft was once the world’s most powerful advocate for more sensible, restrained, error-cost-based competition policy.  That it now finds itself on the opposite side of this debate is unfortunate for all of us.

Brad’s blog post is eloquent (as he always is) and forceful.  And he acknowledges the irony.  And of course he may be right on the facts.  Unfortunately we’ll have to resort to a terribly-costly, irretrievably-flawed and error-prone process to find out–not that the process is likely to result in a very reliable answer anyway.  Where I think he is most off base is where he draws–and asks regulators to draw–conclusions about the competitive effects of the actions he describes.  It is certain that Google has another story and will dispute most or all of the facts.  But even without that information we can dispute the conclusions that Google’s actions, if true, are necessarily anticompetitive.  In fact, as Josh and I have detailed at length here and here, these sorts of actions–necessitated by the realities of complex, innovative and vulnerable markets and in many cases undertaken by the largest and the smallest competitors alike–are more likely pro-competitive.  More important, efforts to ferret out the anti-competitive among them will almost certainly harm welfare rather than help it–particularly when competitors are welcomed in to the regulators’ and politicians’ offices in the process.

As I said, disappointing.  It is not inherently inappropriate for Microsoft to resort to this simply because it has been the victim of such unfortunate “competition” in the past, nor is Microsoft obligated or expected to demonstrate intellectual or any other sort of consistency.  But knowing what it does about the irretrievable defects of the process and the inevitable costliness of its consequences, it is disingenuous or naive (the Nirvana fallacy) for it to claim that it is simply engaging in a reliable effort to smooth over a bumpy competitive landscape.  That may be the ideal of antitrust enforcement, but no one knows as well as Microsoft that the reality is far from that ideal.  To claim implicitly that, in this case, things will be different is, as I said, disingenuous.  And likely really costly in the end for all of us.

European Commission

Image by tiseb via Flickr

Here we go again.  The European Commission is after Google more formally than a few months ago (but not yet having issued a Statement of Objections).

For background on the single-firm antitrust issues surrounding Google I modestly recommend my paper with Josh, Google and the Limits of Antitrust: The Case Against the Antitrust Case Against Google (forthcoming soon in the Harvard Journal of Law & Public Policy, by the way).

According to one article on the investigation (from Ars Technica):

The allegations of anticompetitive behavior come as Google has acquired a large array of online services in the last couple of years. Since the company holds around three-quarters of the online search and online advertising markets, it is relatively easy to leverage that dominance to promote its other services over the competition.

(As a not-so-irrelevant aside, I would just point out that I found that article by running a search on Google and clicking on the first item to come up.  Somehow I imagine that a real manipulative monopolist Google would do a better job of white-washing the coverage if its ability to tinker with its search results is so complete.)

More to the point, these sorts of leveraging of dominance claims are premature at best and most likely woefully off-base.  As I noted in commenting on the Google/Ad-Mob merger investigation and similar claims from such antitrust luminaries as Herb Kohl:

If mobile application advertising competes with other forms of advertising offered by Google, then it represents a small fraction of a larger market and this transaction is competitively insignificant.  Moreover, acknowledging that mobile advertising competes with online search advertising does more to expand the size of the relevant market beyond the narrow boundaries it is usually claimed to occupy than it does to increase Google’s share of the combined market (although critics would doubtless argue that the relevant market is still “too concentrated”).  If it is a different market, on the other hand, then critics need to make clear how Google’s “dominance” in the “PC-based search advertising market” actually affects the prospects for competition in this one.  Merely using the words “leverage” and “dominance” to describe the transaction is hardly sufficient.  To the extent that this is just a breathless way of saying Google wants to build its business in a growing market that offers economies of scale and/or scope with its existing business, it’s identifying a feature and not a bug.  If instead it’s meant to refer to some sort of anticompetitive tying or “cross-subsidy” (see below), the claim is speculative and unsupported.

The EU press release promotes a version of the “leveraged dominance” story by suggesting that

The Commission will investigate whether Google has abused a dominant market position in online search by allegedly lowering the ranking of unpaid search results of competing services which are specialised in providing users with specific online content such as price comparisons (so-called vertical search services) and by according preferential placement to the results of its own vertical search services in order to shut out competing services.

The biggest problem I see with these claims is that, well, they make no sense.  First, if someone is searching for a specific vertical search engine on Google by typing its name into Google, it will invariably come up as the first result.  If one is searching for price comparison sites more generally by searching in Google for “price comparison sites” lots of other sites top the list before Google’s own price comparison site shows up.  If one is searching for a specific product and hoping to find price comparisons on Google, why on Earth would that person be hoping to find not Google’s own efforts at price comparison, built right into its search engine, but instead a link to another site and another several steps before finding the information?  As a practical matter, Google doesn’t actually do this particularly well (not as well as Bing, in any case, where the link to its own shopping site almost always comes up first; on Google I often get several manufacturer or other retailer sites before Google’s comparison shopping link appears further down the page).

But even if it did, it’s hard to see how this could be a problem.  The primary reason for this?  Google makes no revenue (that I know of) from users clicking through to purchase anything from its shopping page.  The page has paid search results only at the bottom (rather than the top as on a normal search page), the information is all algorithmically generated, and retailers do not pay to have their information on the page.  If this is generating something of value for Google it is doing so only in the most salutary fashion: By offering additional resources for users to improve their “search experience” and thus induce them to use Google’s search engine.  Of course, this should help Google’s bottom line.  Of course this makes it a better search engine than its competitors.  These are good things, and the fact that Google offers effective, well-targeted and informative search results, presented in multiple forms, demonstrates its (and the industry’s as a whole) degree of innovation and effort–the sort of effort that is typically born out of vibrant competition, not the complacency of a fat, happy monopolist.  The claim that Google’s success harms its competitors should fall on deaf ears.

The same goes for claims that Google favors its own maps, by the way–to the detriment of MapQuest (paging Professor Schumpeter . . . ).  Look for the nearest McDonalds in Google and a Google Map is bound to top the list (but not be the exclusive result, of course).  But why should it be any other way?  In effect, what Google does is give you the Web’s content in as accessible and appropriate a form as it can.  By offering not only a link to McDonalds’ web site, as well as various other links, but also a map showing the locations of the nearest restaurants, Google is offering up results in different forms, hoping that one is what the user is looking for.  Why on Earth should Google be required to use someone else’s graphical presentation of the nearby McDonalds restaurants rather than its own simply because the presentation happens to be graphical rather than in a typed list?

So what’s going on? Continue Reading…