Archives For refusals to deal

[This post adapts elements of “Should ASEAN Antitrust Laws Emulate European Competition Policy?”, published in the Singapore Economic Review (2021). Open access working paper here.]

U.S. and European competition laws diverge in numerous ways that have important real-world effects. Understanding these differences is vital, particularly as lawmakers in the United States, and the rest of the world, consider adopting a more “European” approach to competition.

In broad terms, the European approach is more centralized and political. The European Commission’s Directorate General for Competition (DG Comp) has significant de facto discretion over how the law is enforced. This contrasts with the common law approach of the United States, in which courts elaborate upon open-ended statutes through an iterative process of case law. In other words, the European system was built from the top down, while U.S. antitrust relies on a bottom-up approach, derived from arguments made by litigants (including the government antitrust agencies) and defendants (usually businesses).

This procedural divergence has significant ramifications for substantive law. European competition law includes more provisions akin to de facto regulation. This is notably the case for the “abuse of dominance” standard, in which a “dominant” business can be prosecuted for “abusing” its position by charging high prices or refusing to deal with competitors. By contrast, the U.S. system places more emphasis on actual consumer outcomes, rather than the nature or “fairness” of an underlying practice.

The American system thus affords firms more leeway to exclude their rivals, so long as this entails superior benefits for consumers. This may make the U.S. system more hospitable to innovation, since there is no built-in regulation of conduct for innovators who acquire a successful market position fairly and through normal competition.

In this post, we discuss some key differences between the two systems—including in areas like predatory pricing and refusals to deal—as well as the discretionary power the European Commission enjoys under the European model.

Exploitative Abuses

U.S. antitrust is, by and large, unconcerned with companies charging what some might consider “excessive” prices. The late Associate Justice Antonin Scalia, writing for the Supreme Court majority in the 2003 case Verizon v. Trinko, observed that:

The mere possession of monopoly power, and the concomitant charging of monopoly prices, is not only not unlawful; it is an important element of the free-market system. The opportunity to charge monopoly prices—at least for a short period—is what attracts “business acumen” in the first place; it induces risk taking that produces innovation and economic growth.

This contrasts with European competition-law cases, where firms may be found to have infringed competition law because they charged excessive prices. As the European Court of Justice (ECJ) held in 1978’s United Brands case: “In this case charging a price which is excessive because it has no reasonable relation to the economic value of the product supplied would be such an abuse.”

While United Brands was the EU’s foundational case for excessive pricing, and the European Commission reiterated that these allegedly exploitative abuses were possible when it published its guidance paper on abuse of dominance cases in 2009, the commission had for some time demonstrated apparent disinterest in bringing such cases. In recent years, however, both the European Commission and some national authorities have shown renewed interest in excessive-pricing cases, most notably in the pharmaceutical sector.

European competition law also penalizes so-called “margin squeeze” abuses, in which a dominant upstream supplier charges a price to distributors that is too high for them to compete effectively with that same dominant firm downstream:

[I]t is for the referring court to examine, in essence, whether the pricing practice introduced by TeliaSonera is unfair in so far as it squeezes the margins of its competitors on the retail market for broadband connection services to end users. (Konkurrensverket v TeliaSonera Sverige, 2011)

As Scalia observed in Trinko, forcing firms to charge prices that are below a market’s natural equilibrium affects firms’ incentives to enter markets, notably with innovative products and more efficient means of production. But the problem is not just one of market entry and innovation.  Also relevant is the degree to which competition authorities are competent to determine the “right” prices or margins.

As Friedrich Hayek demonstrated in his influential 1945 essay The Use of Knowledge in Society, economic agents use information gleaned from prices to guide their business decisions. It is this distributed activity of thousands or millions of economic actors that enables markets to put resources to their most valuable uses, thereby leading to more efficient societies. By comparison, the efforts of central regulators to set prices and margins is necessarily inferior; there is simply no reasonable way for competition regulators to make such judgments in a consistent and reliable manner.

Given the substantial risk that investigations into purportedly excessive prices will deter market entry, such investigations should be circumscribed. But the court’s precedents, with their myopic focus on ex post prices, do not impose such constraints on the commission. The temptation to “correct” high prices—especially in the politically contentious pharmaceutical industry—may thus induce economically unjustified and ultimately deleterious intervention.

Predatory Pricing

A second important area of divergence concerns predatory-pricing cases. U.S. antitrust law subjects allegations of predatory pricing to two strict conditions:

  1. Monopolists must charge prices that are below some measure of their incremental costs; and
  2. There must be a realistic prospect that they will able to recoup these initial losses.

In laying out its approach to predatory pricing, the U.S. Supreme Court has identified the risk of false positives and the clear cost of such errors to consumers. It thus has particularly stressed the importance of the recoupment requirement. As the court found in 1993’s Brooke Group Ltd. v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., without recoupment, “predatory pricing produces lower aggregate prices in the market, and consumer welfare is enhanced.”

Accordingly, U.S. authorities must prove that there are constraints that prevent rival firms from entering the market after the predation scheme, or that the scheme itself would effectively foreclose rivals from entering the market in the first place. Otherwise, the predator would be undercut by competitors as soon as it attempts to recoup its losses by charging supra-competitive prices.

Without the strong likelihood that a monopolist will be able to recoup lost revenue from underpricing, the overwhelming weight of economic evidence (to say nothing of simple logic) is that predatory pricing is not a rational business strategy. Thus, apparent cases of predatory pricing are most likely not, in fact, predatory; deterring or punishing them would actually harm consumers.

By contrast, the EU employs a more expansive legal standard to define predatory pricing, and almost certainly risks injuring consumers as a result. Authorities must prove only that a company has charged a price below its average variable cost, in which case its behavior is presumed to be predatory. Even when a firm charges prices that are between its average variable and average total cost, it can be found guilty of predatory pricing if authorities show that its behavior was part of a plan to eliminate a competitor. Most significantly, in neither case is it necessary for authorities to show that the scheme would allow the monopolist to recoup its losses.

[I]t does not follow from the case‑law of the Court that proof of the possibility of recoupment of losses suffered by the application, by an undertaking in a dominant position, of prices lower than a certain level of costs constitutes a necessary precondition to establishing that such a pricing policy is abusive. (France Télécom v Commission, 2009).

This aspect of the legal standard has no basis in economic theory or evidence—not even in the “strategic” economic theory that arguably challenges the dominant Chicago School understanding of predatory pricing. Indeed, strategic predatory pricing still requires some form of recoupment, and the refutation of any convincing business justification offered in response. For example, ​​in a 2017 piece for the Antitrust Law Journal, Steven Salop lays out the “raising rivals’ costs” analysis of predation and notes that recoupment still occurs, just at the same time as predation:

[T]he anticompetitive conditional pricing practice does not involve discrete predatory and recoupment periods, as in the case of classical predatory pricing. Instead, the recoupment occurs simultaneously with the conduct. This is because the monopolist is able to maintain its current monopoly power through the exclusionary conduct.

The case of predatory pricing illustrates a crucial distinction between European and American competition law. The recoupment requirement embodied in American antitrust law serves to differentiate aggressive pricing behavior that improves consumer welfare—because it leads to overall price decreases—from predatory pricing that reduces welfare with higher prices. It is, in other words, entirely focused on the welfare of consumers.

The European approach, by contrast, reflects structuralist considerations far removed from a concern for consumer welfare. Its underlying fear is that dominant companies could use aggressive pricing to engender more concentrated markets. It is simply presumed that these more concentrated markets are invariably detrimental to consumers. Both the Tetra Pak and France Télécom cases offer clear illustrations of the ECJ’s reasoning on this point:

[I]t would not be appropriate, in the circumstances of the present case, to require in addition proof that Tetra Pak had a realistic chance of recouping its losses. It must be possible to penalize predatory pricing whenever there is a risk that competitors will be eliminated… The aim pursued, which is to maintain undistorted competition, rules out waiting until such a strategy leads to the actual elimination of competitors. (Tetra Pak v Commission, 1996).


[T]he lack of any possibility of recoupment of losses is not sufficient to prevent the undertaking concerned reinforcing its dominant position, in particular, following the withdrawal from the market of one or a number of its competitors, so that the degree of competition existing on the market, already weakened precisely because of the presence of the undertaking concerned, is further reduced and customers suffer loss as a result of the limitation of the choices available to them.  (France Télécom v Commission, 2009).

In short, the European approach leaves less room to analyze the concrete effects of a given pricing scheme, leaving it more prone to false positives than the U.S. standard explicated in the Brooke Group decision. Worse still, the European approach ignores not only the benefits that consumers may derive from lower prices, but also the chilling effect that broad predatory pricing standards may exert on firms that would otherwise seek to use aggressive pricing schemes to attract consumers.

Refusals to Deal

U.S. and EU antitrust law also differ greatly when it comes to refusals to deal. While the United States has limited the ability of either enforcement authorities or rivals to bring such cases, EU competition law sets a far lower threshold for liability.

As Justice Scalia wrote in Trinko:

Aspen Skiing is at or near the outer boundary of §2 liability. The Court there found significance in the defendant’s decision to cease participation in a cooperative venture. The unilateral termination of a voluntary (and thus presumably profitable) course of dealing suggested a willingness to forsake short-term profits to achieve an anticompetitive end. (Verizon v Trinko, 2003.)

This highlights two key features of American antitrust law with regard to refusals to deal. To start, U.S. antitrust law generally does not apply the “essential facilities” doctrine. Accordingly, in the absence of exceptional facts, upstream monopolists are rarely required to supply their product to downstream rivals, even if that supply is “essential” for effective competition in the downstream market. Moreover, as Justice Scalia observed in Trinko, the Aspen Skiing case appears to concern only those limited instances where a firm’s refusal to deal stems from the termination of a preexisting and profitable business relationship.

While even this is not likely the economically appropriate limitation on liability, its impetus—ensuring that liability is found only in situations where procompetitive explanations for the challenged conduct are unlikely—is completely appropriate for a regime concerned with minimizing the cost to consumers of erroneous enforcement decisions.

As in most areas of antitrust policy, EU competition law is much more interventionist. Refusals to deal are a central theme of EU enforcement efforts, and there is a relatively low threshold for liability.

In theory, for a refusal to deal to infringe EU competition law, it must meet a set of fairly stringent conditions: the input must be indispensable, the refusal must eliminate all competition in the downstream market, and there must not be objective reasons that justify the refusal. Moreover, if the refusal to deal involves intellectual property, it must also prevent the appearance of a new good.

In practice, however, all of these conditions have been relaxed significantly by EU courts and the commission’s decisional practice. This is best evidenced by the lower court’s Microsoft ruling where, as John Vickers notes:

[T]he Court found easily in favor of the Commission on the IMS Health criteria, which it interpreted surprisingly elastically, and without relying on the special factors emphasized by the Commission. For example, to meet the “new product” condition it was unnecessary to identify a particular new product… thwarted by the refusal to supply but sufficient merely to show limitation of technical development in terms of less incentive for competitors to innovate.

EU competition law thus shows far less concern for its potential chilling effect on firms’ investments than does U.S. antitrust law.

Vertical Restraints

There are vast differences between U.S. and EU competition law relating to vertical restraints—that is, contractual restraints between firms that operate at different levels of the production process.

On the one hand, since the Supreme Court’s Leegin ruling in 2006, even price-related vertical restraints (such as resale price maintenance (RPM), under which a manufacturer can stipulate the prices at which retailers must sell its products) are assessed under the rule of reason in the United States. Some commentators have gone so far as to say that, in practice, U.S. case law on RPM almost amounts to per se legality.

Conversely, EU competition law treats RPM as severely as it treats cartels. Both RPM and cartels are considered to be restrictions of competition “by object”—the EU’s equivalent of a per se prohibition. This severe treatment also applies to non-price vertical restraints that tend to partition the European internal market.

Furthermore, in the Consten and Grundig ruling, the ECJ rejected the consequentialist, and economically grounded, principle that inter-brand competition is the appropriate framework to assess vertical restraints:

Although competition between producers is generally more noticeable than that between distributors of products of the same make, it does not thereby follow that an agreement tending to restrict the latter kind of competition should escape the prohibition of Article 85(1) merely because it might increase the former. (Consten SARL & Grundig-Verkaufs-GMBH v. Commission of the European Economic Community, 1966).

This treatment of vertical restrictions flies in the face of longstanding mainstream economic analysis of the subject. As Patrick Rey and Jean Tirole conclude:

Another major contribution of the earlier literature on vertical restraints is to have shown that per se illegality of such restraints has no economic foundations.

Unlike the EU, the U.S. Supreme Court in Leegin took account of the weight of the economic literature, and changed its approach to RPM to ensure that the law no longer simply precluded its arguable consumer benefits, writing: “Though each side of the debate can find sources to support its position, it suffices to say here that economics literature is replete with procompetitive justifications for a manufacturer’s use of resale price maintenance.” Further, the court found that the prior approach to resale price maintenance restraints “hinders competition and consumer welfare because manufacturers are forced to engage in second-best alternatives and because consumers are required to shoulder the increased expense of the inferior practices.”

The EU’s continued per se treatment of RPM, by contrast, strongly reflects its “precautionary principle” approach to antitrust. European regulators and courts readily condemn conduct that could conceivably injure consumers, even where such injury is, according to the best economic understanding, exceedingly unlikely. The U.S. approach, which rests on likelihood rather than mere possibility, is far less likely to condemn beneficial conduct erroneously.

Political Discretion in European Competition Law

EU competition law lacks a coherent analytical framework like that found in U.S. law’s reliance on the consumer welfare standard. The EU process is driven by a number of laterally equivalent—and sometimes mutually exclusive—goals, including industrial policy and the perceived need to counteract foreign state ownership and subsidies. Such a wide array of conflicting aims produces lack of clarity for firms seeking to conduct business. Moreover, the discretion that attends this fluid arrangement of goals yields an even larger problem.

The Microsoft case illustrates this problem well. In Microsoft, the commission could have chosen to base its decision on various potential objectives. It notably chose to base its findings on the fact that Microsoft’s behavior reduced “consumer choice.”

The commission, in fact, discounted arguments that economic efficiency may lead to consumer welfare gains, because it determined “consumer choice” among media players was more important:

Another argument relating to reduced transaction costs consists in saying that the economies made by a tied sale of two products saves resources otherwise spent for maintaining a separate distribution system for the second product. These economies would then be passed on to customers who could save costs related to a second purchasing act, including selection and installation of the product. Irrespective of the accuracy of the assumption that distributive efficiency gains are necessarily passed on to consumers, such savings cannot possibly outweigh the distortion of competition in this case. This is because distribution costs in software licensing are insignificant; a copy of a software programme can be duplicated and distributed at no substantial effort. In contrast, the importance of consumer choice and innovation regarding applications such as media players is high. (Commission Decision No. COMP. 37792 (Microsoft)).

It may be true that tying the products in question was unnecessary. But merely dismissing this decision because distribution costs are near-zero is hardly an analytically satisfactory response. There are many more costs involved in creating and distributing complementary software than those associated with hosting and downloading. The commission also simply asserts that consumer choice among some arbitrary number of competing products is necessarily a benefit. This, too, is not necessarily true, and the decision’s implication that any marginal increase in choice is more valuable than any gains from product design or innovation is analytically incoherent.

The Court of First Instance was only too happy to give the commission a pass in its breezy analysis; it saw no objection to these findings. With little substantive reasoning to support its findings, the court fully endorsed the commission’s assessment:

As the Commission correctly observes (see paragraph 1130 above), by such an argument Microsoft is in fact claiming that the integration of Windows Media Player in Windows and the marketing of Windows in that form alone lead to the de facto standardisation of the Windows Media Player platform, which has beneficial effects on the market. Although, generally, standardisation may effectively present certain advantages, it cannot be allowed to be imposed unilaterally by an undertaking in a dominant position by means of tying.

The Court further notes that it cannot be ruled out that third parties will not want the de facto standardisation advocated by Microsoft but will prefer it if different platforms continue to compete, on the ground that that will stimulate innovation between the various platforms. (Microsoft Corp. v Commission, 2007)

Pointing to these conflicting effects of Microsoft’s bundling decision, without weighing either, is a weak basis to uphold the commission’s decision that consumer choice outweighs the benefits of standardization. Moreover, actions undertaken by other firms to enhance consumer choice at the expense of standardization are, on these terms, potentially just as problematic. The dividing line becomes solely which theory the commission prefers to pursue.

What such a practice does is vest the commission with immense discretionary power. Any given case sets up a “heads, I win; tails, you lose” situation in which defendants are easily outflanked by a commission that can change the rules of its analysis as it sees fit. Defendants can play only the cards that they are dealt. Accordingly, Microsoft could not successfully challenge a conclusion that its behavior harmed consumers’ choice by arguing that it improved consumer welfare, on net.

By selecting, in this instance, “consumer choice” as the standard to be judged, the commission was able to evade the constraints that might have been imposed by a more robust welfare standard. Thus, the commission can essentially pick and choose the objectives that best serve its interests in each case. This vastly enlarges the scope of potential antitrust liability, while also substantially decreasing the ability of firms to predict when their behavior may be viewed as problematic. It leads to what, in U.S. courts, would be regarded as an untenable risk of false positives that chill innovative behavior and create nearly unwinnable battles for targeted firms.

FTC v. Qualcomm

Last week the International Center for Law & Economics (ICLE) and twelve noted law and economics scholars filed an amicus brief in the Ninth Circuit in FTC v. Qualcomm, in support of appellant (Qualcomm) and urging reversal of the district court’s decision. The brief was authored by Geoffrey A. Manne, President & founder of ICLE, and Ben Sperry, Associate Director, Legal Research of ICLE. Jarod M. Bona and Aaron R. Gott of Bona Law PC collaborated in drafting the brief and they and their team provided invaluable pro bono legal assistance, for which we are enormously grateful. Signatories on the brief are listed at the end of this post.

We’ve written about the case several times on Truth on the Market, as have a number of guest bloggers, in our ongoing blog series on the case here.   

The ICLE amicus brief focuses on the ways that the district court exceeded the “error cost” guardrails erected by the Supreme Court to minimize the risk and cost of mistaken antitrust decisions, particularly those that wrongly condemn procompetitive behavior. As the brief notes at the outset:

The district court’s decision is disconnected from the underlying economics of the case. It improperly applied antitrust doctrine to the facts, and the result subverts the economic rationale guiding monopolization jurisprudence. The decision—if it stands—will undercut the competitive values antitrust law was designed to protect.  

The antitrust error cost framework was most famously elaborated by Frank Easterbrook in his seminal article, The Limits of Antitrust (1984). It has since been squarely adopted by the Supreme Court—most significantly in Brooke Group (1986), Trinko (2003), and linkLine (2009).  

In essence, the Court’s monopolization case law implements the error cost framework by (among other things) obliging courts to operate under certain decision rules that limit the use of inferences about the consequences of a defendant’s conduct except when the circumstances create what game theorists call a “separating equilibrium.” A separating equilibrium is a 

solution to a game in which players of different types adopt different strategies and thereby allow an uninformed player to draw inferences about an informed player’s type from that player’s actions.

Baird, Gertner & Picker, Game Theory and the Law

The key problem in antitrust is that while the consequence of complained-of conduct for competition (i.e., consumers) is often ambiguous, its deleterious effect on competitors is typically quite evident—whether it is actually anticompetitive or not. The question is whether (and when) it is appropriate to infer anticompetitive effect from discernible harm to competitors. 

Except in the narrowly circumscribed (by Trinko) instance of a unilateral refusal to deal, anticompetitive harm under the rule of reason must be proven. It may not be inferred from harm to competitors, because such an inference is too likely to be mistaken—and “mistaken inferences are especially costly, because they chill the very conduct the antitrust laws are designed to protect.” (Brooke Group (quoting yet another key Supreme Court antitrust error cost case, Matsushita (1986)). 

Yet, as the brief discusses, in finding Qualcomm liable the district court did not demand or find proof of harm to competition. Instead, the court’s opinion relies on impermissible inferences from ambiguous evidence to find that Qualcomm had (and violated) an antitrust duty to deal with rival chip makers and that its conduct resulted in anticompetitive foreclosure of competition. 

We urge you to read the brief (it’s pretty short—maybe the length of three blogs posts) to get the whole argument. Below we draw attention to a few points we make in the brief that are especially significant. 

The district court bases its approach entirely on Microsoft — which it misinterprets in clear contravention of Supreme Court case law

The district court doesn’t stay within the strictures of the Supreme Court’s monopolization case law. In fact, although it obligingly recites some of the error cost language from Trinko, it quickly moves away from Supreme Court precedent and bases its approach entirely on its reading of the D.C. Circuit’s Microsoft (2001) decision. 

Unfortunately, the district court’s reading of Microsoft is mistaken and impermissible under Supreme Court precedent. Indeed, both the Supreme Court and the D.C. Circuit make clear that a finding of illegal monopolization may not rest on an inference of anticompetitive harm.

The district court cites Microsoft for the proposition that

Where a government agency seeks injunctive relief, the Court need only conclude that Qualcomm’s conduct made a “significant contribution” to Qualcomm’s maintenance of monopoly power. The plaintiff is not required to “present direct proof that a defendant’s continued monopoly power is precisely attributable to its anticompetitive conduct.”

It’s true Microsoft held that, in government actions seeking injunctions, “courts [may] infer ‘causation’ from the fact that a defendant has engaged in anticompetitive conduct that ‘reasonably appears capable of making a significant contribution to maintaining monopoly power.’” (Emphasis added). 

But Microsoft never suggested that anticompetitiveness itself may be inferred.

“Causation” and “anticompetitive effect” are not the same thing. Indeed, Microsoft addresses “anticompetitive conduct” and “causation” in separate sections of its decision. And whereas Microsoft allows that courts may infer “causation” in certain government actions, it makes no such allowance with respect to “anticompetitive effect.” In fact, it explicitly rules it out:

[T]he plaintiff… must demonstrate that the monopolist’s conduct indeed has the requisite anticompetitive effect…; no less in a case brought by the Government, it must demonstrate that the monopolist’s conduct harmed competition, not just a competitor.”

The D.C. Circuit subsequently reinforced this clear conclusion of its holding in Microsoft in Rambus

Deceptive conduct—like any other kind—must have an anticompetitive effect in order to form the basis of a monopolization claim…. In Microsoft… [t]he focus of our antitrust scrutiny was properly placed on the resulting harms to competition.

Finding causation entails connecting evidentiary dots, while finding anticompetitive effect requires an economic assessment. Without such analysis it’s impossible to distinguish procompetitive from anticompetitive conduct, and basing liability on such an inference effectively writes “anticompetitive” out of the law.

Thus, the district court is correct when it holds that it “need not conclude that Qualcomm’s conduct is the sole reason for its rivals’ exits or impaired status.” But it is simply wrong to hold—in the same sentence—that it can thus “conclude that Qualcomm’s practices harmed competition and consumers.” The former claim is consistent with Microsoft; the latter is emphatically not.

Under Trinko and Aspen Skiing the district court’s finding of an antitrust duty to deal is impermissible 

Because finding that a company operates under a duty to deal essentially permits a court to infer anticompetitive harm without proof, such a finding “comes dangerously close to being a form of ‘no-fault’ monopolization,” as Herbert Hovenkamp has written. It is also thus seriously disfavored by the Court’s error cost jurisprudence.

In Trinko the Supreme Court interprets its holding in Aspen Skiing to identify essentially a single scenario from which it may plausibly be inferred that a monopolist’s refusal to deal with rivals harms consumers: the existence of a prior, profitable course of dealing, and the termination and replacement of that arrangement with an alternative that not only harms rivals, but also is less profitable for the monopolist.

In an effort to satisfy this standard, the district court states that “because Qualcomm previously licensed its rivals, but voluntarily stopped licensing rivals even though doing so was profitable, Qualcomm terminated a voluntary and profitable course of dealing.”

But it’s not enough merely that the prior arrangement was profitable. Rather, Trinko and Aspen Skiing hold that when a monopolist ends a profitable relationship with a rival, anticompetitive exclusion may be inferred only when it also refuses to engage in an ongoing arrangement that, in the short run, is more profitable than no relationship at all. The key is the relative value to the monopolist of the current options on offer, not the value to the monopolist of the terminated arrangement. In a word, what the Court requires is that the defendant exhibit behavior that, but-for the expectation of future, anticompetitive returns, is irrational.

It should be noted, as John Lopatka (here) and Alan Meese (here) (both of whom joined the amicus brief) have written, that even the Supreme Court’s approach is likely insufficient to permit a court to distinguish between procompetitive and anticompetitive conduct. 

But what is certain is that the district court’s approach in no way permits such an inference.

“Evasion of a competitive constraint” is not an antitrust-relevant refusal to deal

In order to infer anticompetitive effect, it’s not enough that a firm may have a “duty” to deal, as that term is colloquially used, based on some obligation other than an antitrust duty, because it can in no way be inferred from the evasion of that obligation that conduct is anticompetitive.

The district court bases its determination that Qualcomm’s conduct is anticompetitive on the fact that it enables the company to avoid patent exhaustion, FRAND commitments, and thus price competition in the chip market. But this conclusion is directly precluded by the Supreme Court’s holding in NYNEX

Indeed, in Rambus, the D.C. Circuit, citing NYNEX, rejected the FTC’s contention that it may infer anticompetitive effect from defendant’s evasion of a constraint on its monopoly power in an analogous SEP-licensing case: “But again, as in NYNEX, an otherwise lawful monopolist’s end-run around price constraints, even when deceptive or fraudulent, does not alone present a harm to competition.”

As Josh Wright has noted:

[T]he objection to the “evasion” of any constraint approach is… that it opens the door to enforcement actions applied to business conduct that is not likely to harm competition and might be welfare increasing.

Thus NYNEX and Rambus (and linkLine) reinforce the Court’s repeated holding that an inference of harm to competition is permissible only where conduct points clearly to anticompetitive effect—and, bad as they may be, evading obligations under other laws or violating norms of “business morality” do not suffice.

The district court’s elaborate theory of harm rests fundamentally on the claim that Qualcomm injures rivals—and the record is devoid of evidence demonstrating actual harm to competition. Instead, the court infers it from what it labels “unreasonably high” royalty rates, enabled by Qualcomm’s evasion of competition from rivals. In turn, the court finds that that evasion of competition can be the source of liability if what Qualcomm evaded was an antitrust duty to deal. And, in impermissibly circular fashion, the court finds that Qualcomm indeed evaded an antitrust duty to deal—because its conduct allowed it to sustain “unreasonably high” prices. 

The Court’s antitrust error cost jurisprudence—from Brooke Group to NYNEX to Trinko & linkLine—stands for the proposition that no such circular inferences are permitted.

The district court’s foreclosure analysis also improperly relies on inferences in lieu of economic evidence

Because the district court doesn’t perform a competitive effects analysis, it fails to demonstrate the requisite “substantial” foreclosure of competition required to sustain a claim of anticompetitive exclusion. Instead the court once again infers anticompetitive harm from harm to competitors. 

The district court makes no effort to establish the quantity of competition foreclosed as required by the Supreme Court. Nor does the court demonstrate that the alleged foreclosure harms competition, as opposed to just rivals. Foreclosure per se is not impermissible and may be perfectly consistent with procompetitive conduct.

Again citing Microsoft, the district court asserts that a quantitative finding is not required. Yet, as the court’s citation to Microsoft should have made clear, in its stead a court must find actual anticompetitive effect; it may not simply assert it. As Microsoft held: 

It is clear that in all cases the plaintiff must… prove the degree of foreclosure. This is a prudential requirement; exclusivity provisions in contracts may serve many useful purposes. 

The court essentially infers substantiality from the fact that Qualcomm entered into exclusive deals with Apple (actually, volume discounts), from which the court concludes that Qualcomm foreclosed rivals’ access to a key customer. But its inference that this led to substantial foreclosure is based on internal business statements—so-called “hot docs”—characterizing the importance of Apple as a customer. Yet, as Geoffrey Manne and Marc Williamson explain, such documentary evidence is unreliable as a guide to economic significance or legal effect: 

Business people will often characterize information from a business perspective, and these characterizations may seem to have economic implications. However, business actors are subject to numerous forces that influence the rhetoric they use and the conclusions they draw….

There are perfectly good reasons to expect to see “bad” documents in business settings when there is no antitrust violation lurking behind them.

Assuming such language has the requisite economic or legal significance is unsupportable—especially when, as here, the requisite standard demands a particular quantitative significance.

Moreover, the court’s “surcharge” theory of exclusionary harm rests on assumptions regarding the mechanism by which the alleged surcharge excludes rivals and harms consumers. But the court incorrectly asserts that only one mechanism operates—and it makes no effort to quantify it. 

The court cites “basic economics” via Mankiw’s Principles of Microeconomics text for its conclusion:

The surcharge affects demand for rivals’ chips because as a matter of basic economics, regardless of whether a surcharge is imposed on OEMs or directly on Qualcomm’s rivals, “the price paid by buyers rises, and the price received by sellers falls.” Thus, the surcharge “places a wedge between the price that buyers pay and the price that sellers receive,” and demand for such transactions decreases. Rivals see lower sales volumes and lower margins, and consumers see less advanced features as competition decreases.

But even assuming the court is correct that Qualcomm’s conduct entails such a surcharge, basic economics does not hold that decreased demand for rivals’ chips is the only possible outcome. 

In actuality, an increase in the cost of an input for OEMs can have three possible effects:

  1. OEMs can pass all or some of the cost increase on to consumers in the form of higher phone prices. Assuming some elasticity of demand, this would mean fewer phone sales and thus less demand by OEMs for chips, as the court asserts. But the extent of that effect would depend on consumers’ demand elasticity and the magnitude of the cost increase as a percentage of the phone price. If demand is highly inelastic at this price (i.e., relatively insensitive to the relevant price change), it may have a tiny effect on the number of phones sold and thus the number of chips purchased—approaching zero as price insensitivity increases.
  2. OEMs can absorb the cost increase and realize lower profits but continue to sell the same number of phones and purchase the same number of chips. This would not directly affect demand for chips or their prices.
  3. OEMs can respond to a price increase by purchasing fewer chips from rivals and more chips from Qualcomm. While this would affect rivals’ chip sales, it would not necessarily affect consumer prices, the total number of phones sold, or OEMs’ margins—that result would depend on whether Qualcomm’s chips cost more or less than its rivals’. If the latter, it would even increase OEMs’ margins and/or lower consumer prices and increase output.

Alternatively, of course, the effect could be some combination of these.

Whether any of these outcomes would substantially exclude rivals is inherently uncertain to begin with. But demonstrating a reduction in rivals’ chip sales is a necessary but not sufficient condition for proving anticompetitive foreclosure. The FTC didn’t even demonstrate that rivals were substantially harmed, let alone that there was any effect on consumers—nor did the district court make such findings. 

Doing so would entail consideration of whether decreased demand for rivals’ chips flows from reduced consumer demand or OEMs’ switching to Qualcomm for supply, how consumer demand elasticity affects rivals’ chip sales, and whether Qualcomm’s chips were actually less or more expensive than rivals’. Yet the court determined none of these. 


Contrary to established Supreme Court precedent, the district court’s decision relies on mere inferences to establish anticompetitive effect. The decision, if it stands, would render a wide range of potentially procompetitive conduct presumptively illegal and thus harm consumer welfare. It should be reversed by the Ninth Circuit.

Joining ICLE on the brief are:

  • Donald J. Boudreaux, Professor of Economics, George Mason University
  • Kenneth G. Elzinga, Robert C. Taylor Professor of Economics, University of Virginia
  • Janice Hauge, Professor of Economics, University of North Texas
  • Justin (Gus) Hurwitz, Associate Professor of Law, University of Nebraska College of Law; Director of Law & Economics Programs, ICLE
  • Thomas A. Lambert, Wall Chair in Corporate Law and Governance, University of Missouri Law School
  • John E. Lopatka, A. Robert Noll Distinguished Professor of Law, Penn State University Law School
  • Daniel Lyons, Professor of Law, Boston College Law School
  • Geoffrey A. Manne, President and Founder, International Center for Law & Economics; Distinguished Fellow, Northwestern University Center on Law, Business & Economics
  • Alan J. Meese, Ball Professor of Law, William & Mary Law School
  • Paul H. Rubin, Samuel Candler Dobbs Professor of Economics Emeritus, Emory University
  • Vernon L. Smith, George L. Argyros Endowed Chair in Finance and Economics, Chapman University School of Business; Nobel Laureate in Economics, 2002
  • Michael Sykuta, Associate Professor of Economics, University of Missouri

Thanks to Geoff for the introduction. I look forward to posting a few things over the summer.

I’d like to begin by discussing Geoff’s post on the pending legislative proposals designed to combat strategic abuse of drug safety regulations to prevent generic competition. Specifically, I’d like to address the economic incentive structure that is in effect in this highly regulated market.

Like many others, I first noticed the abuse of drug safety regulations to prevent competition when Turing Pharmaceuticals—then led by now infamous CEO Martin Shkreli—acquired the manufacturing rights for the anti-parasitic drug Daraprim, and raised the price of the drug by over 5,000%. The result was a drug that cost $750 per tablet. Daraprim (pyrimethamine) is used to combat malaria and toxoplasma gondii infections in immune-compromised patients, especially those with HIV. The World Health Organization includes Daraprim on its “List of Essential Medicines” as a medicine important to basic health systems. After the huge price hike, the drug was effectively out of reach for many insurance plans and uninsured patients who needed it for the six to eight week course of treatment for toxoplasma gondii infections.

It’s not unusual for drugs to sell at huge multiples above their manufacturing cost. Indeed, a primary purpose of patent law is to allow drug companies to earn sufficient profits to engage in the expensive and risky business of developing new drugs. But Daraprim was first sold in 1953 and thus has been off patent for decades. With no intellectual property protection Daraprim should, theoretically, now be available from generic drug manufactures for only a little above cost. Indeed, this is what we see in the rest of the world. Daraprim is available all over the world for very cheap prices. The per tablet price is 3 rupees (US$0.04) in India, R$0.07 (US$0.02) in Brazil, US$0.18 in Australia, and US$0.66 in the UK.

So what gives in the U.S.? Or rather, what does not give? What in our system of drug distribution has gotten stuck and is preventing generic competition from swooping in to compete down the high price of off-patent drugs like Daraprim? The answer is not market failure, but rather regulatory failure, as Geoff noted in his post. While generics would love to enter a market where a drug is currently selling for high profits, they cannot do so without getting FDA approval for their generic version of the drug at issue. To get approval, a generic simply has to file an Abbreviated New Drug Application (“ANDA”) that shows that its drug is equivalent to the branded drug with which it wants to compete. There’s no need for the generic to repeat the safety and efficacy tests that the brand manufacturer originally conducted. To test for equivalence, the generic needs samples of the brand drug. Without those samples, the generic cannot meet its burden of showing equivalence. This is where the strategic use of regulation can come into play.

Geoff’s post explains the potential abuse of Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategies (“REMS”). REMS are put in place to require certain safety steps (like testing a woman for pregnancy before prescribing a drug that can cause birth defects) or to restrict the distribution channels for dangerous or addictive drugs. As Geoff points out, there is evidence that a few brand name manufacturers have engaged in bad-faith refusals to provide samples using the excuse of REMS or restricted distribution programs to (1) deny requests for samples, (2) prevent generic manufacturers from buying samples from resellers, and (3) deny generics whose drugs have won approval access to the REMS system that is required for generics to distribute their drugs. Once the FDA has certified that a generic manufacturer can safely handle the drug at issue, there is no legitimate basis for the owners of brand name drugs to deny samples to the generic maker. Expressed worries about liability from entering joint REMS programs with generics also ring hollow, for the most part, and would be ameliorated by the pending legislation.

It’s important to note that this pricing situation is unique to drugs because of the regulatory framework surrounding drug manufacture and distribution. If a manufacturer of, say, an off-patent vacuum cleaner wants to prevent competitors from copying its vacuum cleaner design, it is unlikely to be successful. Even if the original manufacturer refuses to sell any vacuum cleaners to a competitor, and instructs its retailers not to sell either, this will be very difficult to monitor and enforce. Moreover, because of an unrestricted resale market, a competitor would inevitably be able to obtain samples of the vacuum cleaner it wishes to copy. Only patent law can successfully protect against the copying of a product sold to the general public, and when the patent expires, so too will the ability to prevent copying.

Drugs are different. The only way a consumer can resell prescription drugs is by breaking the law. Pills bought from an illegal secondary market would be useless to generics for purposes of FDA approval anyway, because the chain of custody would not exist to prove that the samples are the real thing. This means generics need to get samples from the authorized manufacturer or distribution company. When a drug is subject to a REMS-required restricted distribution program, it is even more difficult, if not impossible, for a generic maker to get samples of the drugs for which it wants to make generic versions. Restricted distribution programs, which are used for dangerous or addictive drugs, by design very tightly control the chain of distribution so that the drugs go only to patients with proper prescriptions from authorized doctors.

A troubling trend has arisen recently in which drug owners put their branded drugs into restricted distribution programs not because of any FDA REMS requirement, but instead as a method to prevent generics from obtaining samples and making generic versions of the drugs. This is the strategy that Turing used before it raised prices over 5,000% on Daraprim. And Turing isn’t the only company to use this strategy. It is being emulated by others, although perhaps not so conspicuously. For instance, in 2015, Valeant Pharmaceuticals completed a hostile takeover of Allergan Pharmaceuticals, with the help of the hedge fund, Pershing Square. Once Valeant obtained ownership of Allergan and its drug portfolio, it adopted restricted distribution programs and raised the prices on its off-patent drugs substantially. It raised the price of two life-saving heart drugs by 212% and 525% respectively. Others have followed suit.

A key component of the strategy to profit from hiking prices on off-patent drugs while avoiding competition from generics is to select drugs that do not currently have generic competitors. Sometimes this is because a drug has recently come off patent, and sometimes it is because the drug is for a small patient population, and thus generics haven’t bothered to enter the market given that brand name manufacturers generally drop their prices to close to cost after the drug comes off patent. But with the strategic control of samples and refusals to allow generics to enter REMS programs, the (often new) owners of the brand name drugs seek to prevent the generic competition that we count on to make products cheap and plentiful once their patent protection expires.

Most brand name drug makers do not engage in withholding samples from generics and abusing restricted distribution and REMS programs. But the few that do cost patients and insurers dearly for important medicines that should be much cheaper once they go off patent. More troubling still is the recent strategy of taking drugs that have been off patent and cheap for years, and abusing the regulatory regime to raise prices and block competition. This growing trend of abusing restricted distribution and REMS to facilitate rent extraction from drug purchasers needs to be corrected.

Two bills addressing this issue are pending in Congress. Both bills (1) require drug companies to provide samples to generics after the FDA has certified the generic, (2) require drug companies to enter into shared REMS programs with generics, (3) allow generics to set up their own REMS compliant systems, and (4) exempt drug companies from liability for sharing products and REMS-compliant systems with generic companies in accordance with the steps set out in the bills. When it comes to remedies, however, the Senate version is significantly better. The penalties provided in the House bill are both vague and overly broad. The bill provides for treble damages and costs against the drug company “of the kind described in section 4(a) of the Clayton Act.” Not only is the application of the Clayton Act unclear in the context of the heavily regulated market for drugs (see Trinko), but treble damages may over-deter reasonably restrictive behavior by drug companies when it comes to distributing dangerous drugs.

The remedies in the Senate version are very well crafted to deter rent seeking behavior while not overly deterring reasonable behavior. The remedial scheme is particularly good, because it punishes most those companies that attempt to make exorbitant profits on drugs by denying generic entry. The Senate version provides as a remedy for unreasonable delay that the plaintiff shall be awarded attorneys’ fees, costs, and the defending drug company’s profits on the drug at issue during the time of the unreasonable delay. This means that a brand name drug company that sells an old drug for a low price and delays sharing only because of honest concern about the safety standards of a particular generic company will not face terribly high damages if it is found unreasonable. On the other hand, a company that sends the price of an off-patent drug soaring and then attempts to block generic entry will know that it can lose all of its rent-seeking profits, plus the cost of the victorious generic company’s attorneys fees. This vastly reduces the incentive for the company owning the brand name drug to raise prices and keep competitors out. It likewise greatly increases the incentive of a generic company to enter the market and–if it is unreasonably blocked–to file a civil action the result of which would be to transfer the excess profits to the generic. This provides a rather elegant fix to the regulatory gaming in this area that has become an increasing problem. The balancing of interests and incentives in the Senate bill should leave many congresspersons feeling comfortable to support the bill.

Brand drug manufacturers are no strangers to antitrust accusations when it comes to their complicated relationship with generic competitors — most obviously with respect to reverse payment settlements. But the massive and massively complex regulatory scheme under which drugs are regulated has provided other opportunities for regulatory legerdemain with potentially anticompetitive effect, as well.

In particular, some FTC Commissioners have raised concerns that brand drug companies have been taking advantage of an FDA drug safety program — the Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategies program, or “REMS” — to delay or prevent generic entry.

Drugs subject to a REMS restricted distribution program are difficult to obtain through market channels and not otherwise readily available, even for would-be generic manufacturers that need samples in order to perform the tests required to receive FDA approval to market their products. REMS allows (requires, in fact) brand manufacturers to restrict the distribution of certain drugs that present safety or abuse risks, creating an opportunity for branded drug manufacturers to take advantage of imprecise regulatory requirements by inappropriately limiting access by generic manufacturers.

The FTC has not (yet) brought an enforcement action, but it has opened several investigations, and filed an amicus brief in a private-party litigation. Generic drug companies have filed several antitrust claims against branded drug companies and raised concerns with the FDA.

The problem, however, is that even if these companies are using REMS to delay generics, such a practice makes for a terrible antitrust case. Not only does the existence of a regulatory scheme arguably set Trinko squarely in the way of a successful antitrust case, but the sort of refusal to deal claims at issue here (as in Trinko) are rightly difficult to win because, as the DOJ’s Section 2 Report notes, “there likely are few circumstances where forced sharing would help consumers in the long run.”

But just because there isn’t a viable antitrust case doesn’t mean there isn’t still a competition problem. But in this case, it’s a problem of regulatory failure. Companies rationally take advantage of poorly written federal laws and regulations in order to tilt the market to their own advantage. It’s no less problematic for the market, but its solution is much more straightforward, if politically more difficult.

Thus it’s heartening to see that Senator Mike Lee (R-UT), along with three of his colleagues (Patrick Leahy (D-VT), Chuck Grassley (R-IA), and Amy Klobuchar (D-MN)), has proposed a novel but efficient way to correct these bureaucracy-generated distortions in the pharmaceutical market without resorting to the “blunt instrument” of antitrust law. As the bill notes:

While the antitrust laws may address actions by license holders who impede the prompt negotiation and development on commercially reasonable terms of a single, shared system of elements to assure safe use, a more tailored legal pathway would help ensure that license holders negotiate such agreements in good faith and in a timely manner, facilitating competition in the marketplace for drugs and biological products.

The legislative solution put forward by the Creating and Restoring Equal Access to Equivalent Samples (CREATES) Act of 2016 targets the right culprit: the poor regulatory drafting that permits possibly anticompetitive conduct to take place. Moreover, the bill refrains from creating a per se rule, instead implementing several features that should still enable brand manufacturers to legitimately restrict access to drug samples when appropriate.

In essence, Senator Lee’s bill introduces a third party (in this case, the Secretary of Health and Human Services) who is capable of determining whether an eligible generic manufacturer is able to comply with REMS restrictions — thus bypassing any bias on the part of the brand manufacturer. Where the Secretary determines that a generic firm meets the REMS requirements, the bill also creates a narrow cause of action for this narrow class of plaintiffs, allowing suits against certain brand manufacturers who — despite the prohibition on using REMS to delay generics — nevertheless misuse the process to delay competitive entry.

Background on REMS

The REMS program was introduced as part of the Food and Drug Administration Amendments Act of 2007 (FDAAA). Following the withdrawal of Vioxx, an arthritis pain reliever, from the market because of a post-approval linkage of the drug to heart attacks, the FDA was under considerable fire, and there was a serious risk that fewer and fewer net beneficial drugs would be approved. The REMS program was introduced by Congress as a mechanism to ensure that society could reap the benefits from particularly risky drugs and biologics — rather than the FDA preventing them from entering the market at all. It accomplishes this by ensuring (among other things) that brands and generics adopt appropriate safety protocols for distribution and use of drugs — particularly when a drug has the potential to cause serious side effects, or has an unusually high abuse profile.

The FDA-determined REMS protocols can range from the simple (e.g., requiring a medication guide or a package insert about potential risks) to the more burdensome (including restrictions on a drug’s sale and distribution, or what the FDA calls “Elements to Assure Safe Use” (“ETASU”)). Most relevant here, the REMS process seems to allow brands considerable leeway to determine whether generic manufacturers are compliant or able to comply with ETASUs. Given this discretion, it is no surprise that brand manufacturers may be tempted to block competition by citing “safety concerns.”

Although the FDA specifically forbids the use of REMS to block lower-cost, generic alternatives from entering the market (of course), almost immediately following the law’s enactment, certain less-scrupulous branded pharmaceutical companies began using REMS for just that purpose (also, of course).

REMS abuse

To enter into pharmaceutical markets that no longer have any underlying IP protections, manufactures must submit to the FDA an Abbreviated New Drug Application (ANDA) for a generic, or an Abbreviated Biologic License Application (ABLA) for a biosimilar, of the brand drug. The purpose is to prove to the FDA that the competing product is as safe and effective as the branded reference product. In order to perform the testing sufficient to prove efficacy and safety, generic and biosimilar drug manufacturers must acquire a sample (many samples, in fact) of the reference product they are trying to replicate.

For the narrow class of dangerous or highly abused drugs, generic manufacturers are forced to comply with any REMS restrictions placed upon the brand manufacturer — even when the terms require the brand manufacturer to tightly control the distribution of its product.

And therein lies the problem. Because the brand manufacturer controls access to its products, it can refuse to provide the needed samples, using REMS as an excuse. In theory, it may be true in certain cases that a brand manufacturer is justified in refusing to distribute samples of its product, of course; some would-be generic manufacturers certainly may not meet the requisite standards for safety and security.

But in practice it turns out that most of the (known) examples of brands refusing to provide samples happen across the board — they preclude essentially all generic competition, not just the few firms that might have insufficient safeguards. It’s extremely difficult to justify such refusals on the basis of a generic manufacturer’s suitability when all would-be generic competitors are denied access, including well-established, high-quality manufacturers.

But, for a few brand manufacturers, at least, that seems to be how the REMS program is implemented. Thus, for example, Jon Haas, director of patient access at Turing Pharmaceuticals, referred to the practice of denying generics samples this way:

Most likely I would block that purchase… We spent a lot of money for this drug. We would like to do our best to avoid generic competition. It’s inevitable. They seem to figure out a way [to make generics], no matter what. But I’m certainly not going to make it easier for them. We’re spending millions and millions in research to find a better Daraprim, if you will.

As currently drafted, the REMS program gives branded manufacturers the ability to limit competition by stringing along negotiations for product samples for months, if not years. Although access to a few samples for testing is seemingly such a small, trivial thing, the ability to block this access allows a brand manufacturer to limit competition (at least from bioequivalent and generic drugs; obviously competition between competing branded drugs remains).

And even if a generic competitor manages to get ahold of samples, the law creates an additional wrinkle by imposing a requirement that brand and generic manufacturers enter into a single shared REMS plan for bioequivalent and generic drugs. But negotiating the particulars of the single, shared program can drag on for years. Consequently, even when a generic manufacturer has received the necessary samples, performed the requisite testing, and been approved by the FDA to sell a competing drug, it still may effectively be barred from entering the marketplace because of REMS.

The number of drugs covered by REMS is small: fewer than 100 in a universe of several thousand FDA-approved drugs. And the number of these alleged to be subject to abuse is much smaller still. Nonetheless, abuse of this regulation by certain brand manufacturers has likely limited competition and increased prices.

Antitrust is not the answer

Whether the complex, underlying regulatory scheme that allocates the relative rights of brands and generics — and that balances safety against access — gets the balance correct or not is an open question, to be sure. But given the regulatory framework we have and the perceived need for some sort of safety controls around access to samples and for shared REMS plans, the law should at least work to do what it intends, without creating an opportunity for harmful manipulation. Yet it appears that the ambiguity of the current law has allowed some brand manufacturers to exploit these safety protections to limit competition.

As noted above, some are quite keen to make this an antitrust issue. But, as also noted, antitrust is a poor fit for handling such abuses.

First, antitrust law has an uneasy relationship with other regulatory schemes. Not least because of Trinko, it is a tough case to make that brand manufacturers are violating antitrust laws when they rely upon legal obligations under a safety program that is essentially designed to limit generic entry on safety grounds. The issue is all the more properly removed from the realm of antitrust enforcement given that the problem is actually one of regulatory failure, not market failure.

Second, antitrust law doesn’t impose a duty to deal with rivals except in very limited circumstances. In Trinko, for example, the Court rejected the invitation to extend a duty to deal to situations where an existing, voluntary economic relationship wasn’t terminated. By definition this is unlikely to be the case here where the alleged refusal to deal is what prevents the generic from entering the market in the first place. The logic behind Trinko (and a host of other cases that have limited competitors’ obligations to assist their rivals) was to restrict duty to deal cases to those rare circumstances where it reliably leads to long-term competitive harm — not where it amounts to a perfectly legitimate effort to compete without giving rivals a leg-up.

But antitrust is such a powerful tool and such a flexible “catch-all” regulation, that there are always efforts to thwart reasonable limits on its use. As several of us at TOTM have written about at length in the past, former FTC Commissioner Rosch and former FTC Chairman Leibowitz were vocal proponents of using Section 5 of the FTC Act to circumvent sensible judicial limits on making out and winning antitrust claims, arguing that the limits were meant only for private plaintiffs — not (implicitly infallible) government enforcers. Although no one at the FTC has yet (publicly) suggested bringing a REMS case as a standalone Section 5 case, such a case would be consistent with the sorts of theories that animated past standalone Section 5 cases.

Again, this approach serves as an end-run around the reasonable judicial constraints that evolved as a result of judges actually examining the facts of individual cases over time, and is a misguided way of dealing with what is, after all, fundamentally a regulatory design problem.


Senator Lee’s bill, on the other hand, aims to solve the problem with a more straightforward approach by improving the existing regulatory mechanism and by adding a limited judicial remedy to incentivize compliance under the amended regulatory scheme. In summary:

  • The bill creates a cause of action for a refusal to deal only where plaintiff can prove, by a preponderance of the evidence, that certain well-defined conditions are met.
  • For samples, if a drug is not covered by a REMS, or if the generic manufacturer is specifically authorized, then the generic can sue if it doesn’t receive sufficient quantities of samples on commercially reasonable terms. This is not a per se offense subject to outsized antitrust damages. Instead, the remedy is a limited injunction ensuring the sale of samples on commercially reasonable terms, reasonable attorneys’ fees, and a monetary fine limited to revenue earned from sale of the drug during the refusal period.
  • The bill also gives a brand manufacturer an affirmative defense if it can prove by a preponderance of the evidence that, regardless of its own refusal to supply them, samples were nevertheless available elsewhere on commercially reasonable terms, or where the brand manufacturer is unable to supply the samples because it does not actually produce or market the drug.
  • In order to deal with the REMS process problems, the bill creates similar rights with similar limitations when the license holders and generics cannot come to an agreement about a shared REMS on commercially reasonable terms within 120 days of first contact by an eligible developer.
  • The bill also explicitly limits brand manufacturers’ liability for claims “arising out of the failure of an [eligible generic manufacturer] to follow adequate safeguards,” thus removing one of the (perfectly legitimate) objections to the bill pressed by brand manufacturers.

The primary remedy is limited, injunctive relief to end the delay. And brands are protected from frivolous litigation by an affirmative defense under which they need only show that the product is available for purchase on reasonable terms elsewhere. Damages are similarly limited and are awarded only if a court finds that the brand manufacturer lacked a legitimate business justification for its conduct (which, under the drug safety regime, means essentially a reasonable belief that its own REMS plan would be violated by dealing with the generic entrant). And monetary damages do not include punitive damages.

Finally, the proposed bill completely avoids the question of whether antitrust laws are applicable, leaving that possibility open to determination by courts — as is appropriate. Moreover, by establishing even more clearly the comprehensive regulatory regime governing potential generic entrants’ access to dangerous drugs, the bill would, given the holding in Trinko, probably make application of antitrust laws here considerably less likely.

Ultimately Senator Lee’s bill is a well-thought-out and targeted fix to an imperfect regulation that seems to be facilitating anticompetitive conduct by a few bad actors. It does so without trampling on the courts’ well-established antitrust jurisprudence, and without imposing excessive cost or risk on the majority of brand manufacturers that behave perfectly appropriately under the law.