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[This series of posts dissects the threatened FTC antitrust case against Google and concludes that a monopolization prosecution by the federal government would be a very bad idea. We divide the topic into five parts, one policy and four legal. Check out Part I and Part II.]
Antitrust law is characterized by rigorous, fact-intensive analysis, so much so that the prevailing jurisprudence holds that market definition (explored in Part II) generally should not be resolved on the “pleadings” alone, in other words without factual discovery. Nothing typifies the demanding analytical framework of antitrust more than monopoly power, part of the first element of a Section 2 monopolization case — possession of monopoly power in the relevant market. With respect to monopoly power, the potential case of FTC v. Google, Inc. will likely run into some especially significant barriers, no pun intended.
3. Google Has No Monopoly Power, Even In Internet Search/Advertising
There’s precious little room in a relatively brief blog series to expound on all the various elements that factor into a judicial finding of monopoly power. The basic principle is that a high market share (typically 70% or more), coupled with barriers to entry, allows an inference of monopoly power to be drawn. But like nearly all legal inferences that’s merely a rebuttable, prima facie construct, as direct proof of the “power to control price or exclude competition” is the best evidence of monopoly. (It’s just hard to find.)
This author has written elsewhere about The Fantasy Google Monopoly, in which I noted that “the reality is that Google neither acts like nor is sheltered from competition like the monopolists of the past, something the company’s critics never claim because they just can’t.”
Like the Red Queen in Through the Looking Glass, Google succeeds only by running faster than its competitors — merely to stay in the same place. There’s nothing about Internet search that locks users into Google’s search engine or its many other products. Nor is new entry at all difficult. There are few, if any, scale economies in search and the acquisition of data in today’s digital environment is relatively cost free. Microsoft’s impressive growth of Bing in a mere two or so years shows that new competition in search can come at any time.
While that sums up, rather cogently I must say, the antitrust analysis, let’s go to the coaches’ tape and break it down.
No Bottleneck or “Gateway” Control. Ten years ago, when the FCC and FTC both believed America Online — which boasted a very high share of dial-up Internet access — had monopoly power, the (fleeting) conclusion rested on the fact that AOL controlled access by its customers to the Internet and thus competing Internet content. Much like the pre-divestiture AT&T Bell System, the concern was that AOL held a “bottleneck” through which consumers had to pass to reach rivals. Yet Google does not own the Internet’s tramsission lines or 4G spectrum, and is thus not a bottleneck. Regardless of search share or volume, the reality is that Google has no control over the content its search users can access on the Internet. Web search is one of many ways, together with links, URLs, browser bookmarks, directories, QR codes, email marketing and uncountable others, for Internet sites to drive traffic and hits. Google is not a gateway so much as it is a highly and quickly searchable index of the Web. When there’s a host of other ways to find a page, the index itself is just a convenience, as much for bound books as for Web sites.
No Power Over Price. Whether search ad rates are the price of search or alternatively the relevant antitrust market itself, they fail on the central monopoly power criterion of control over price. As micro-economics teaches, a monopolist can increase prices above marginal costs, resulting in a “deadweight” loss to consumer welfare. Yet Google’s search ads are priced via an auction system — the highest bidder for an advertising keyword buys the ads (as many or as few as it wants) at the winning bid price. Certainly, there are ways to game any auction to favor some bidders over others or to exert indirect influence on the wining auction price. But so far as we can tell, such a theory of pricing power is not involved in the FTC’s threatened monopolization claim against Google. And if it were, that case would be even harder to prove than this overview analysis concludes.
No Network Effects. Nothing symbolizes modern antitrust so much as an emphasis on so-called “network effects.” Network effects exist when the value of a product increases in proportion to the number of other users of the product, hence a name which originated in telephone antitrust cases, where subscriber demand for service rose in proportion to the number of interconnected telephone companies (and thus other telephone subscribers) the end user could call. Network effects are in part a barrier to entry, by increasing requirements for scale economies by new firms, and a source of power to exclude rivals, by allowing the dominant network effects firm to deny competitors critical mass. Yet there is no, or at least precious little, evidence that with respect to search users and search advertisers, there are any network effects at all involved with Google. That you may conduct Web searches using Google’s engine makes it no more likely that me or any other Web users will select Google for search. That Sears may buy some AdWords keywords for search advertising makes it only slightly if at all more likely (and a consequence of retail competition, not Google) that Macy’s will purchase search ads via a Google auction.
No Entry Barriers. A monopoly in a market in which entry by new competitors is unlimited cannot be sustained for long. Thus, as noted antitrust law couples market share with barriers to entry in assessing monopoly power. It is difficult if not impossible to make a serious case that there are substantial entry barriers in Internet search or advertising. Web page indexing — the key input to search — is a product of raw computing horsepower and storage capacity. Both are commodities with steadily falling prices, per Moore’s law, in today’s Internet economy. That Facebook is planing to launch its own search product says it all: entry into search only requires investment capital, which the antitrust laws rightfully do not regard as an entry barrier. As the UK’s Daily Mail wrote, “Facebook is looking to tackle Google by making search a much more prominent part of it social network.” The Red Queen strikes again.
“Data” Is Not a Search Entry Barrier. Proponents of a Google monopolization prosecution have recently refined their analysis, suggesting that the wealth of demographic data assembled by Google from users’ Web searches is a barrier to entry. That’s a smokescreen. Data about consumer preferences and behavior — aggregated and (much to the annoyance of privacy advocates) individualized — is also a commodity in our modern economy. Whether credit and commercial transaction data via the “big three” credit reporting agencies, product preference and consumer satisfaction data from J.C. Power and the like, or the emerging “big data” marketplace, data can easily be bought, in bulk, for cheap. (The U.S. legal presumption that a company owns, and thus can sell, data about its customers plays into this point, but is not relevant for antitrust purposes.) The corollary to this argument is that economies of scale pose a barrier to entry, an even more subtle concept which, unlike network effects, has not been recognized by mainstream antitrust courts as a dispositive Section 2 factor — every large-scale business enjoys scale economies, after all. Suffice it to say, the FTC would have to make new antitrust law if it relies on this novel theory, which seems to contradict the factual realities of the ubiquitous availability of inexpensive data and data storage on consumer preference and behavior today.
To sum up, claims that Google enjoys monopoly power in Internet search or search advertising fail in the face of the recognized criteria for that crucial Section 2 monopolization factor. Without monopoly power, unilateral (as opposed to concerted among competitors) action by a single firm is of no antitrust significance. Indeed, an implicit — and sometimes articulated — presumption in the arguments in favor of an FTC monopolization case is that Internet search is a “natural monopoly,” one dictated and preordained by the economic structure of the market. As an antitrust lawyer who while with the DOJ in the 1980s railed against the proposition that cable TV represented a natural monopoly — something satellite television and IPTV have at long last conclusively disproven — this author abhors that construct.
Even if they are correct, the parties pressing for government antitrust action against Google cannot claim the courts have ever recognized the concept of natural monopoly as a surrogate for the United States v. Grinnell Corp.requisite demonstration of actual monopoly power, willfully obtained or sheltered by exclusionary practices. We’ll turn to that question, whether Google has engaged in conduct antitrust law deems anticompetitive, next.
Last week I participated in a “parliamentary” debate, sponsored by TechFreedom, on the Federal Trade Commission’s anticipated lawsuit against Google for monopolization. The dialog is interesting, if I say so myself!!
[This series of posts dissects the threatened FTC antitrust case against Google and concludes that a monopolization prosecution by the federal government would be a very bad idea. We divide the topic into five parts, one policy and four legal. Check out Part I.]
Section 2 of the 1890 Sherman Act (15 U.S.C. § 2) makes “monopolization” unlawful. As every antitrust practitioner can recite by heart, this means that being a monopoly is not illegal, rather it is illegal to obtain or maintain monopoly power in a “relevant market” by exclusionary or anticompetitive means.
The most famous articulation of this basic principle comes from the case of United States v. Grinnell Corp. (“Grinnell“), 384 U.S. 563 (1966), in which the U.S. Supreme Court explained that a monopoly position reached as a result of a “superior product, business acumen or historic accident” is different from one achieved by the “willful acquisition or maintenance of that power.” That slightly schizophrenic approach reflects the basic conflict within antitrust itself. The law encourages, and permits, firms with market power (typically a synonym for monopoly power, although economists disagree at the margins) to compete aggressively on the merits, and even to eliminate competitors. Yet to tame the results of unbridled capitalism, Section 2 constrains companies from creating or defending monopoly power with anticompetitive practices.
2. Internet Search and Search Advertising are Not Relevant Antitrust Markets
The starting point for every antitrust case is market definition — outlining the contours of a market, in which the defendant participates, in order to assess whether the firm possesses monopoly power in that market. In defining the relevant antitrust market, courts determine which products compete with the defendant’s product and thus limit or prevent the exercise of market power. Typically, this process involves examining substitutability of products (both from a demand and a supply perspective) to find whether consumers and rivals could switch to another source (or sources) if the defendant firm were to raise price or restrict output. For example, in the 1950s chemical innovator duPont was charged with monopolizing the cellophane market, a product it invented, but the courts ruled that the relevant antitrust market could not be so narrowly limited because cellophane was interchangeable with other food wrapping materials. The “great sensitivity of customers in the flexible packaging markets to price or quality changes” prevented duPont from exerting monopoly control over price.
The more broadly the relevant antitrust market is defined, the less likely it is the defendant has the ability to exercise monopoly power in that market. As a corollary, if the targeted firm does not have monopoly power in the relevant market, there generally cannot be Section 2 liability. Many recent antitrust cases, including the FTC’s controversial attempt to block Whole Foods’ acquisition of Wild Oats and the Justice Department’s challenge to the Oracle-PeopleSoft merger, have turned on market definition.
With that background, let’s look at the purported “Internet search” market. That’s obviously the core proposition in any attack on Google for unlawful monopolization, because the necessary premise is that Google’s dominant share — estimated at from 65 to 80% — of Web searches is the foundation of its alleged monopoly. But here the antitrust analysis begins to break down. Internet search is a free product in which the consumers (Internet users) are charged nothing, with the service supported by advertising revenues. Since monopoly power is the “power to control price or exclude competition,” one must necessarily ask whether Google’s high “market share” reflects any market power at all. More importantly, search users are just like broadcast television viewers; they are an input into a different product — search advertising — in which consumers themselves are effectively sold by virtue of advertising rates based largely on impressions and click-throughs. Just as NBC, ABC, CBS and Fox compete for television eyeballs in order to sell more advertising (hence profiting) to sponsors, so too do Internet search engines monetize the service by selling eyeballs to advertisers.
Google’s share of search by itself is therefore almost meaningless. Even if the relevant market is confined to search, moreover, there is nothing that enables Google to prevent users from switching, instantaneously, to another of the scores of search engine providers on the Internet. (It should go without saying that even the government does not contend that Google displaced Yahoo!, Alta Vista, Ask.com and the many former search giants that dominated the Internet in the 1990s with anything other than better, more useful, search results, a consequence of better algorithms — the epitome of Grinnell’s “superior product.”) So the relevant market analysis must therefore focus on the area where Google in fact competes with other search engine providers, namely in the sale of search advertising. We all know that the links displayed alongside so-called “organic” search results are paid, listed conspicuously as “sponsored” results. Without search advertising, in today’s Internet economy there would be no free search engine services.
Folks in the tech industry have for the most part been conspicuously silent, at least publicly, about the Federal Trade Commission’s lengthy investigation of and apparent intention — perhaps as soon as year end — to file an antitrust case against Google for monopolization. In part that’s because Silicon Valley companies typically do not understand or want to get bogged down in legal and political controversies. In part, it’s because many tech innovators realize that staying part of Google’s AdWords ecosystem can be very profitable.
This silence is not driven by fear of retaliation, as Google has never done that to its vertical channel partners or even erstwhile ex-corporate joint venturers like Apple and Yahoo!. But it is likely emboldening the FTC to think that the Washington, DC agency has the interests of competition in high-tech at heart in moving against Mountain View. That’s a disquieting conclusion which should be especially troubling to young Internet-centric companies from Facebook and Twitter to shoestring-funded app developers.
This series of posts dissects the threatened FTC case and concludes that a monopolization prosecution by the federal government of Google would be a very bad idea. We divide the topic into five parts, one policy and four legal. We’ll start with policy because that’s something which does not turn on the rather arcane elements of antitrust law.
In a post about Twitter several weeks back, I concluded that “[a] threat of government action can be just as debilitating to innovation as premature enforcement intervention into the marketplace.” Although the subject then was vertical integration, the same is true of broader antitrust issues, like mergers, and tech policy issues such as privacy. When the rules are ambiguous, and enforcement discretion allows for a wide range of subjective governmental decisions, uncertainty breeds business timidity because rivals can game the process.
A Wall Street Journal opinion piece by L. Gordon Crovitz on Monday made this same point. Commenting that Google’s proposed acquisition of travel guide publisher Frommer’s could disrupt the travel market even further (as Dan also covered on DisCo) — and reacting to all-too-typical calls by Google’s competitors for “close” Federal Trade Commission review of the deal — Crovitz wrote:
As a regulatory matter, there is real risk that the current antitrust review by the FTC will block innovation in the search industry. The agency could freeze Google into its historic way of doing business by stopping it from delivering answers directly (removing the consumer benefit) and by banning acquisitions such as Frommer’s…. For the technology companies that are supposed to be the drivers of our economy, this kind of regulatory uncertainty is a growing burden. The response to innovation by one company should be more innovation by others, not competitors calling in lawyers and lobbyists.
At the DisCo Project, we naturally focus on the current, dynamic technology marketplace and the disruption it is continuing to cause to brick-and-mortar and other “legacy” industries. But disruptive innovation is not new and not unique to high-tech. It’s been around for hundreds of years and serves as a key driver of both economic growth and social evolution.
Let’s start with the poster child of disruption, buggy whip manufacturers. In the late 19th century there were some 13,000 companies involved in the horse-drawn carriage (buggy) industry. Most failed to recognize that the era of raw horsepower was giving way to that of internal combustion engines and the automobile. Buggy whips, once a proud, artisan craft, essentially became relegated to S&M purveyors. Read Theodore Levitt’s influential 1960 book Marketing Myopiafor a more detailed look.
Not everyone was obsoleted by Henry Ford. Timken & Co., which had developed roller bearings for buggies to smooth the ride of wooden wheels, prospered into the industrial age by making the transition to a market characterized as “personal transportation” rather than buggies. Likewise carriage interior manufacturers, who successfully supplied customized leather-clad seats and accessories to Detroit.
One might suspect this industrial myopia has been confined to small markets with few dominant players. But not hardly. One of the more famous series of patent cases in history were the battles between Western Union and Alexander Graham Bell in the 1870s, where the telegraph giant (along with scores of others) vainly tried to contest Bell’s U.S. patents on the telephone. Ironically, the telephone was initially rejected by Western Union, the leading telecommunications company of the 1800s, because it could carry a signal only three miles. The Bell telephone therefore took root as a local communications service simple enough to be used by everyday people. Little by little, the telephone’s range improved until it supplanted Western Union and its telegraph operators altogether.
Apart from scurrilous character assassination suggesting Bell had bribed U.S. Patent and Trademark Office clerks to stamp his patent application first, the telephone patent cases are best remembered for their eventual 1879 settlement. Western Union assigned all telephone rights to the nascent Bell System with the caveat that Bell would not compete in the lucrative telegraphy market. After all, Western Union surmised, no one wanted to have their peaceful homes invaded by ringing monsters from the stressful outside world. Check out this verbatim 1876 internal memo from Western Union:
Messrs. Hubbard and Bell want to install one of their “telephone devices” in every city. The idea is idiotic on the face of it. Furthermore, why would any person want to use this ungainly and impractical device when he can send a messenger to the telegraph office and have a clear written message sent to any large city in the United States?
Epically wrong! But that, of course, is the challenge of disruptive innovation. It forces market participants to rethink their premises and reimagine the business they are in. Those who get it wrong will be lost in the dustbin (or buggy whip rack) of history. Those who get it right typically enjoy a window of success until the next inflection point arrives. Were barbers out of business when, some 200 years ago, doctors began to curtail the practice of bleeding patients, eventually usurping barbers as providers of health care? No, because barbershops moved from medicine to personal grooming.
Disruptive technologies create major new growth in the industries they penetrate — even when they cause traditionally entrenched firms to fail — by allowing less-skilled and less-affluent people to do things previously done only by expensive specialists in centralized, inconvenient locations. In effect, they offer consumers products and services that are cheaper, better, and more convenient than ever before. Disruption, a core microeconomic driver of macroeconomic growth, has played a fundamental role as the American economy has become more efficient and productive.
There are hundreds or thousands more examples we can discuss. Polaroid and Kodak, both innovators in their own right, have faced bankruptcy and virtual irrelevance over the past few years because they could not cope with rapid disintermediation of their photography businesses by digital technologies. Walgreens, CVS and camera shops, meanwhile, have retained a solid photography revenue stream by supporting photo printing from SD cards and even Facebook photo collections.
Some businesses get it and some do not. Disruptive competition drives out those whose world view tries quixotically to preserve the past or to protect economic and social customs from technology-driven change. Disruption is of course not a panacea for all social ills; New Yorkers, for instance, complained as much about the filth and stench of cobblestoned city streets filled with horse droppings in the 19th century as they did about the filth and stench of paved streets filled with cars and CO2 fumes in the 20th century. As an economic and competitive matter, however, disruption is a process of continually “out with the old and in with the new.” And it’s been that way for as long as anyone can remember.
Today Forbes published an op-ed article I wrote on the antitrust furor surrounding Google. Here’s the concluding paragraph:
Google doesn’t act like a monopolist and shares none of the characteristics sheltering classic monopolists from competition. Its astounding success in Internet search is universally regarded as a consequence of better design, superior code, better products and plain old hard work. Like Lewis Carroll’s other queen, the Queen of Hearts, Google really has no power at all. Just as the Alice in Wonderland queen could majestically dictate “off with their heads” with absolutely no effect, Google must continue to run faster simply to stay in the same place. That’s not a monopoly; instead it is a success story that should be applauded.