Amazon is an interesting hybrid, sometimes acting as a platform, sometimes acting as a direct merchant.  In its capacity as a platform, Amazon facilitates sales of goods from other merchants to Amazon’s customers through its website.  Amazon itself doesn’t actually sell these goods (because it never actually owns them), although it operates the system that enables these sales and takes a cut.  In its capacity as a merchant, Amazon purchases goods from suppliers and sells them directly to its customers.

The Kindle makes the merchant/platform distinction even more muddled for Amazon, and the distinction is at the core of the issue.

Basically, the difference between a merchant and a platform, as suggested above, is in the degree of control an intermediary exerts over pricing and other terms of sale, and the extent to which it bears risk.  The more control, the more merchant-like; the less control, the more platform-like (Thus the Gap is a merchant; eBay is a platform).  Background economic conditions determine which model (or where on the continuum between them) is more efficient for a given intermediary or market.  As these conditions change, the optimal degree of control may change, as well.  At the same time, suppliers or intermediaries may choose to assert or deny control in response to changing economic conditions–and this choice may not be optimal.  To my thinking, this is what is going on in the book/e-book market.

Steven Pearlstein in the WaPo hints at the issue:

While markets have their flaws, over the long run they are good at executing these technological transformations. My guess is that in the not-so-distant future, best-selling authors such as John Grisham and Malcolm Gladwell — along with unknown authors peddling their first books — will publish their own works, contracting with independent editors and marketers and selling directly to consumers as much as possible. Other authors will turn to smaller, more specialized publishing houses that will offer smaller advances but bigger royalties and will be built, as they once were, around great editors. Publishers will sell their books through competing online distributors and traditional hard-copy bookstores, the latter of which will continue to exist not only as places to browse and socialize, but also as places to have printed on demand. Backlists will be infinite, pricing will be dynamic, and more copies of more books will be read and sold.

From Amazon’s point of view, this possible future is probably a quite likely one (in part because it can help to hasten its arrival), and one which does not necessarily bode well for its merchant-like business model (on which see, e.g., Charlie Martin).  But this future is a goldmine for its platform model, particularly to the extent that Amazon’s Kindle offers a widespread and attractive platform to readers and authors alike.

When it comes to selling physical books directly, Amazon has, and is used to, full control over the terms of sale.  When it comes to selling e-books, however, Amazon is not really a merchant–but it’s not (yet) exactly a platform, either.  Most obviously, there is no physical inventory for Amazon to purchase with e-books, and whether it actually purchases e-books at the time of sale to resell in each transaction (even at a predetermined price) or simply facilitates a transaction between publisher and purchaser at the time of sale, Amazon bears the same extent of inventory risk: zero. Very platform-like.  But the terms of contracts with publishers complicate matters.  Under the Amazon-negotiated pricing scheme, Amazon does, indeed, buy the e-book and re-sell it.  Although this entails no inventory risk, it does mean that Amazon bears “pricing risk” (if that’s a term) just as a merchant does, and it is stuck with the price it negotiated with publishers, no matter the price at which it actually sells its e-books.

There are other nuances.  Important among these, use of e-books purchased through Amazon requires that buyers own a Kindle (just as use of Xbox video games generally requires owners to have purchased an Xbox).  If not enough buyers own Kindles, there is little value (and some cost) to publishers in participating in the e-book market through Amazon; likewise, if not enough publishers sell e-books through Amazon, there is little value to consumers in buying a Kindle.  Again, very platform-like.  But books will be written, published and marketed regardless (or maybe almost regardless) of the number of Kindle owners, and book buyers will buy the same books (or maybe almost the same books) whether they own Kindles or not–and some Kindle owners will buy physical books even though they own Kindles.  The point is that the indirect network effects (or economies of scale–a debate for another day) that one expects in platform markets and that one sees in, say, the video game market (the more Xbox owners, the more Xbox game developers there will be and thus the more Xbox owners there will be) are severely attenuated in the e-book market currently because of the overwhelming demand for physical versions of the same books.

Now, both of these points are discussed in different ways by many of the commentators I pointed to on this issue.  Obviously the nature of the contracts between Amazon and publishers is central to the story (in fact, it is the story), and everyone has discussed the issue.  Several folks have also pointed out that e-books compete with physical books, usually to mention that publishers are interested in price discrimination (on which Kiesling and Postrel are particularly good).

But I think viewed in the light of the choice of business model it is clear that the issue is control.  The question is the extent to which Amazon should act more like a platform or more like a merchant, and this distinction is determined by the amount of control it has.  As a merchant, Amazon expects–and everyone benefits from it having–a lot of control, with both its attendant costs and benefits, over the terms of sale of its products.  As a platform, Amazon is willing to cede control over the terms of sale and just manage the platform.

When publishers assert that they want more control over e-book prices they are pushing Amazon toward a platform model for e-books.  The problem is that because book publishers do not internalize the benefits conferred on other publishers from a wider use of Amazon’s platform, their pricing incentives may be inefficient.  As others have noted, publishers probably want to engage in pricing and price discrimination that will maximize their revenue.  But this control may not be optimal for the platform at this nascent stage.

And that’s really the twist.  Amazon is not ready to be a platform in this business.  The economic conditions are not yet right and it is clearly making a lot of money selling physical books directly to its users.  The Kindle is not ubiquitous and demand for electronic versions of books is not very significant–and thus Amazon does not want to take on the full platform development and distribution risk.  Where seller control over price usually entails a distribution of inventory risk away from suppliers and toward sellers, supplier control over price correspondingly distributes platform development risk toward sellers.  Under the old system Amazon was able to encourage the distribution of the platform (the Kindle) through loss-leader pricing on e-books, ensuring that publishers shared somewhat in the costs of platform distribution (from selling correspondingly fewer physical books) and allowing Amazon to subsidize Kindle sales in a way that helped to encourage consumer familiarity with e-books.  Under the new system it does not have that ability and can only subsidize Kindle use by reducing the price of Kindles–which impedes Amazon from engaging in effective price discrimination for the Kindle, does not tie the subsidy to increased use, and will make widespread distribution of the device more expensive and more risky for Amazon.

Many of the commentators (see especially Scalzi and Kiesling) are angered by Amazon’s conduct in the affair, and see in it reason to shift their loyalty from Amazon to its competitors (or at least they did before Amazon capitulated).  I see it quite differently.  To me the affair was a dispute over control rights allocated by contract.  Amazon is willing to pay more for control–to act, in other words, like a merchant re-selling publishers’ books.  It wants this control because it wants to sell e-books at a lower price than publishers want in an effort to sell more Kindles and encourage e-book use (and, incidentally, sell fewer physical books).  At this stage in this market what is needed is not more incentive for publishers to develop more inventory, but more incentive for Amazon to develop its platform.  To the extent that Amazon must now bear more of the risk and cost associated with the transition to e-books, the transition will likely occur more slowly.  Amazon’s effort to maintain pricing control by playing hardball with Macmillan in the physical book market was appropriate and gutsy.  And we would have been better off if it had succeeded.

I don’t think there’s anything to be “done” about the state of affairs other than for Amazon and publishers including Macmillan to continue negotiating.  But I will note one thing (seconding Joshua Gans):  It is almost certainly the case that Amazon capitulated in its dispute with Macmillan because of fear of drawing antitrust litigation.  If so, I think this would be most unfortunate, and it would represent antitrust enforcement placing an inefficient thumb on the bargaining power scale.  Perhaps we shouldn’t be so quick to reject the idea of false positives . . . .

Important Hat Tip.  When I started writing this post I hadn’t yet seen this article by Andrei Hagiu (Hagiu, Andrei (2007) “Merchant or Two-Sided Platform?,” Review of Network Economics: Vol. 6: Iss. 2, Article 3) (embarrassingly enough, as it was published in 2007).  But my thinking here maps significantly onto Andrei’s and I re-wrote some of the post, particularly reflecting some of his terminology, once I did read it in the middle of drafting the post.  It strikes me as an extremely important article in the two-sided markets literature, and I highly recommend it to everyone interested in the topic.  To the extent that I say what he says, he says it better; and to the extent that we diverge, he is probably correct and I am probably wrong.

If you want a vivid illustration of this value destruction, read this appalling account of a recent raid on a licensed shared kitchen in Chicago’s West Town neighborhood. Be sure to watch the video. The protective public servant wouldn’t even help dispose of the food he destroyed. Disgusting.

(HT: Lynne Kiesling)

A recent opinion from Judge Posner cites our very own Josh Wright (Joshua D. Wright & Todd J. Zywicki, “Three Problematic Truths About the Consumer Financial Protection Agency Act of 2009,” Lombard Street, Sept. 14, 2009, available here) (by the way, the essay has drawn a few comments, my favorite of which is definitely the one titled, “are you stupid or scumbags[?]“).

The opinion is vaguely interesting touching as it does on the propriety of short-term, high-interest loans, but the holding rests on an analysis of the commerce clause so is pretty well beyond my ken.

At issue is an Indiana statute that purports to apply Indiana’s restrictive usury laws to consumer contracts executed outside the state, but with creditors that have advertised or solicited sales within Indiana.  The Indiana usury statute at issue constrains consumer loan interest to terms under which “the ceiling is the lower of 21 percent of the entire unpaid balance, or 36 percent on the first $300 of unpaid principal, 21 percent on the next $700, and 15 percent on the remainder,” with an exception for payday loans.  Such terms would preclude payday loans if they weren’t excepted under the statute and does preclude car title loans of the sort at issue in the case.  The court rules that the restriction on out-of-state transactions is impermissible under the constitution and strikes down the Indiana law.

The interesting part (to me) of the case, and the part where Josh (and Todd) are cited, is where Posner discusses the law and economics and related scholarship of car title and payday loans.  He doesn’t really come down on one side or another in this debate except to aver that Indiana has a colorable interest in protecting its citizens from “predatory lending,” if it so chooses.  It seems to me that he gives too much credit to the behavioral-economics-based arguments on the “predatory lending is, well, predatory” side of the debate, but he really doesn’t wade into the debate.  Nevertheless, Josh and Todd get their mention (Todd actually gets a couple of mentions) in this section, and kudos to them (and to FinReg21, where their essay appears) for drawing Posner’s attention.

Brad “smacks down” Steve Horowitz.

Russ Roberts amplifies Horwitz with a nice point about the dangers of aggregation.

David Henderson notes that Brad misses what Horwitz is really saying.

Brad DeLong “smacks down” Steve Horwitz again, not acknowledging any of the criticisms.  Brad writes:

Me: I don’t think so. Take

Government can only spend what it takes from the private sector one way or another, either through taxation, borrowing, or the redistribution effects of inflation. For every dollar that government spends, there is one less dollar being spent somewhere else in the economy…

and replace “government” by “Larry and Sergei’s internet company.” It then reads:

Larry and Sergei’s internet company can only spend what it gets from other businesses and consumers one way or another, either through sales or borrowing. For every dollar that Larry and Sergei’s internet company spends, there is one less dollar being spent somewhere else in the economy…

Brad’s claim is that Horwitz wouldn’t make the second claim and thus, he doesn’t really mean to make the first claim because they are equivalent.  So Horwitz is a partisan hack.

Brad, Brad, Brad, Brad.  This is so revealing.  Brad really believes, I guess, that the government randomly spending money digging ditches or the equivalent (without regard to Russ’s well-highlighted concerns about where money is being spent, among many other things) is as productive as Google spending money inventing, making and improving its products for sale in the market.  Brad really believes, I guess, that when Google engages in voluntary exchange with customers that it is offering value exactly equivalent to the value the government offers in exchange for an equivalent amount of involuntary taxation or inflation.  Apparently Brad believes that the two cases are equivalent, so anyone who disagrees with the second must disagree with the first (and is thus being disingenuous in supporting the first claim).  But anyone who would claim that these two cases should be treated equivalently and who would disregard the obvious and essential differences between government action and private exchange is an ethics-free partisan ass and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

Ms. Varney is not alone in misconstruing Judge Posner’s views. An article in Monday’s Wall Street Journal reported that

In September, the influential Judge Richard A. Posner, who spearheaded the movement to apply Chicago School economics to antitrust law, declared he had lost faith in the theory that had previously guided his work. His new guiding light: John Maynard Keynes, the British economist who advocated a hefty role for government in the economy.

Of course, agreeing with Keynes’ prescription for dealing with a macroeconomic recession in no way commits one to the view that more aggressive policing of vertical restraints, unilateral firm conduct, and vertical mergers — the practices toward which the Chicago School takes a relatively laissez faire stance — will enhance market performance.

In typically pithy fashion, Judge Posner makes that point in a letter to the editor in today’s WSJ:

My views on antitrust have not changed. I believe that Keynes has much to teach us about the role of government in digging an economy out of a depression or a recession. But that has absolutely nothing to do with antitrust.

(HT: Danny Sokol)

A number of the discussants at the panel focused their attention on Delaware.  This is certainly appropriate, as Delaware is the corporate home of nearly 70% of the Fortune 500 and half of the 14,000 publicly traded companies in the United States.  Most of the academy has a contentious relationship with the Delaware courts and an inordinate number of academics dedicate their time to attacking the Delaware model of corporate law.  (For the Don Quixote of anti-Delaware scholarship, see Jay Brown at U. Denver)  The AALS panel discussion on Business Associations this year mirrored that tendency in the corporate law scholarship.

As the only member of the academy, to my knowledge, who has clerked in the Delaware Court of Chancery (or any Delaware court for that matter) I often find myself on the less populated side of the debate.  (Side note: Constitutional law scholarship seems to be overrun with former Supreme Court clerks, one would imagine more Delaware expertise would be required in corporation law?).  Some may assert this as evidence of bias in my remarks, in much the same way that scholars who respond to a pro-regulatory herd mentality may also exhibit bias.  I’ll let readers judge that question.  I will, however, offer that my viewpoint is far more informed than most of Delaware’s critics.  I’ll also note as counterpoint that I remain a proud student and acolyte of Professor Bebchuk, a noted critic of Delaware.  I’m proud to say that Lucian has forgotten more about corporate governance than most of the anti-Delaware critics who have followed in his footsteps.  Though we disagree on a great many issues, I judge other critiques of Delaware against Lucian’s robust methodology, which is in part why I find much of the surplus anti-Delaware scholarship ultimately unconvincing.

The theme of the AALS panel on Business Associations was “The Financial Collapse and Recovery Effort: What Does it Mean for Corporate Governance?”   A summary of Lisa Fairfax’s excellent discussion on clawbacks for executive compensation can be found here.  Erik Gerding has also compiled a great summary of the full discussion here and here.  The portion of the discussion relating to Delaware was focused around the question of: “Can we rely on Delaware to solve the crisis?”  and “Can Delaware serve as a regulator of systemic risk?”  The specifics of that discussion focused on the outcome of the Citigroup case.  I will save my response to the panel’s particular comments on the Citigroup case for a moment, and first take issue with the broader question presented by the panel.  Is Delaware the appropriate forum for regulating systemic risk?  Absolutely, definitively, no.  Delaware is not designed to deal with that question, and it does not assert such jurisdiction.

The confusion is easily explained: the Delaware Courts are designed to deal with large scale business transactions, and rarely does a week go by without a Delaware Court of Chancery case appearing in the Wall Street Journal.  Issues of systemic risk relating to large publicly traded investment banks have also tended to make the front pages of the Wall Street Journal during the crisis.  This is however merely a matter of coincidence.  Delaware adjudicates conflicts between shareholders, companies, their boards of directors, and their executives.  These conflicts are decided on a case-by-case basis.  The Delaware judiciary does not have the constitutional authority, nor does it possess a policy advantage, to serve as a nation-wide regulator of systemic risk.  For that matter, neither does the SEC (which is often described by Delaware critics as Delaware’s antipode).  The SEC has a mandate to protect investors and encourage capital formation under the 33 and 34 Acts, but it possesses neither a mandate nor sufficient expertise to regulate the investment community to police leverage.  This is particularly true in light of the Department of Housing and Urban Development’s superseding authority over the leading source of systemic risk (to the tune of a recent $400 billion dollar backstop from the Treasury Department), namely Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac.

The AALS panel also focused on the Citigroup case as its shining example of Delaware corporate law gone astray.  I feel compelled to respond accordingly.  In that case, the plaintiff sought to evade Section 102(b)7 of the Delaware General Corporation Law, which permits Boards to opt out of liability for good faith violations of the duty of care, by arguing that the Board of Citigroup “failed to act” in its oversight of risk management.  The subject of the Citigroup plaintiff’s challenge was essentially subprime mortgage bets by Citigroup.  Chancellor Chandler noted that the plaintiff’s reading would have eviscerated the Delaware legislature’s intent in enacting 102(b)7 by allowing plaintiffs to allege that, despite an initial good faith and well considered decision to undertake an investment opportunity, a board could be found liable after the fact for its failure to “oversee” the progress of that opportunity.

First, the AALS panel’s view seems to encourage judicial activism on the part of the Delaware Court of Chancery to ignore the Delaware General Corporation Law.  Even more surprisingly, they begin from a clearly hindsight-biased view of Citigroup’s risks.  The tenor of the discussion was in the order of “well, clearly, Citigroup’s board made bad decisions, because they lost lots of money.”  This is precisely the sort of thinking that the DGCL, in particular Section 102(b)7, is designed to avoid.  Hindsight bias built into corporation law would cripple the ability of boards to invest resources in risky propositions, because boards would fear ex ante the potential liability of good faith but uncertain investments that subsequently lost money.

And if you don’t think the AALS panel’s view on Citigroup’s investments is overwhelmingly colored by hindsight bias, consider remarks by Chairman Ben Bernanke, who in 2006 said that the housing market “will most likely experience a gradual cooling rather than a sharp slowdown” and who in 2007 noted that “the impact of subprime loans on the broader economy and financial markets are likely to be contained.”  Readers should certainly not take my quotes of Bernanke as a critique of him.  Though I personally feel the Fed is overly lax in monetary policy these days, that’s another issue.  My point is that one of the smartest, most informed, and least conflicted financial regulators felt in 2006 and 2007, at the height of the events of the Citigroup case, that subprime was a relatively riskless bet.  As such, I take severe issue with the “conventional wisdom” at the AALS that the Citigroup case was a slam dunk against Chancellor Chandler’s decision.

Let’s also not forget that the Delaware Court of Chancery decided to permit the waste claim to survive at that stage in the litigation, and it survives to this day.  I realize that waste claims rarely result in ultimate judgment against the defendants, but then again most all claims in civil court rarely result in ultimate judgment against the defendants.  If Delaware was such a rigged game in favor of defendants, as the AALS panel seemed to suggest, why would Chancellor Chandler have permitted the waste claim to survive, knowing it would give the plaintiffs continued leverage to demand some form of award in settlement negotiations?

I will close with two general critiques of Delaware’s critics that applies both to some of the recent commentators at the AALS panel and also to the anti-Delaware vein of scholarship generally.  Don’t get me wrong… I won’t argue that Delaware is perfect, but I will take issue with a lack of sophistication in much of the criticism.  My first point is that the anti-Delaware crowd lumps the various institutions of Delaware together as though it were a single entity.  This could not be more inaccurate.  In the interest of brevity in this blog post, I will only note 10 relevant institutional players in Delaware, although to respond justly I should dedicate a summer to an article that atomizes the players in more depth.  There are significant conflicts of interest among the Delaware Court of Chancery, the Delaware Supreme Court, the Delaware litigation defendant’s bar, the Delaware litigation plaintiff’s bar, the Delaware deal advisory bar, the out of state (particularly NY) deal advisory bar, the Delaware Committee on Corporate Laws, the Delaware Legislature, the Delaware Governor’s office, and the Delaware Secretary of State (responsible for incorporating entities).

My second broad critique of the anti-Delaware crowd is that they seem to ignore that if Delaware were such an anti-shareholder jurisdiction, we would expect to see a share price discount for Delaware publicly traded entities against shares in other companies.  As such, we should also expect to see new IPOs featuring non-Delaware corporations in the hopes of obtaining a premium.  We see neither.  In fact, 70% of all IPOs in 2005 were Delaware corporations.  Furthermore, the only empirical evidence on point is in precisely the opposite direction… empirical evidence suggests that Delaware firms trade at a substantial premium to other firms (see Roberta Romano’s work here and Robert Daines’ work  here).

The courts have pared back plaintiffs’ rights in antitrust cases. They’re concerned about what they believe to be the toxic combination of class actions, treble damages and a very aggressive plaintiffs’ bar. The problem for us as an agency is we come under those restrictions, [too]. So how do we do what we’re supposed to do, which is stopping anticompetitive behavior? One tool in our arsenal is using what’s known as our Section 5 authority to stop unfair methods of competition.

Leibowitz further justifies his approach to Section 5 with an appeal to what he claims to be an important intrinsic limit of Section 5:

The other advantage of this authority is, because it’s not an antitrust statute, it’s going to limit follow-on, private treble-damages law suits. I think in the end, if we use this statute effectively to stop anticompetitive behavior, the business community is going to end up supporting it very, very strongly. Because what they’re most concerned about is follow-on, private, treble-damages litigation. They’re not so much concerned about cease-and-desist [orders], which is the kind of thing we’re often looking at when we use our Section 5 authority. I don’t think big business should be worried. I think they should embrace this trend.

Yes, I’m sure business will eagerly embrace the FTC’s use of this statute, particularly as the agency defends it precisely on the ground that its use is relatively unconstrained by courts and their pesky rule of law.

Leibowitz has been making these claims for some time (see, e.g., these remarks from October 2008 and the N-Data Statement).

But admittedly, if it were true that the FTC’s use of Section 5 did not lead inexorably to costly follow-on litigation, and if it were not the case that the statute were a recipe for unprincipled, uneconomic antitrust enforcement, no doubt there would be some support for it.  But unfortunately for Leibowitz, the claim is NOT true–it is not the case that Section 5 removes the specter of costly private litigation from the equation.

The reality is that many states have “Baby FTC Acts,” modeled on the federal FTC Act and taking enforcement cues–by law–from FTC interpretation of the Act.  And these statutes do provide for private rights of action and treble damages.  So although it is technically true that there is no private right of action under the federal FTC Act, this hardly shields antitrust defendants from follow-on liability.  And even if such actions have been rare up until now (as Leibowitz claims in the remarks linked above), that may well change as the FTC’s precedent-setting enforcement decisions shift toward using the statute as an antitrust enforcement tool and as the Act is used more and more for otherwise-unwinnable Sherman Act cases.

This point isn’t new, and Commissioner Kovacic made this same point in his dissent from the N-Data settlement:

The Commission overlooks how the proposed settlement could affect the application of state statutes that are modeled on the FTC Act and prohibit unfair methods of competition (“UMC”) or unfair acts or practices (“UAP”). The federal and state UMC and UAP systems do not operate in watertight compartments. As commentators have documented, the federal and state regimes are interdependent. [Citations omitted].  By statute or judicial decision, courts in many states interpret the state UMC and UDP laws in light of FTC decisions, including orders. As a consequence, such states might incorporate the theories of liability in the settlement and order proposed here into their own UMC or UAP jurisprudence. A number of states that employ this incorporation principle have authorized private parties to enforce their UMC and UAP statutes in suits that permit the court to impose treble damages for infringements.

If the Commission desires to deny the reasoning of its approach to private treble damage litigants, the proposed settlement does not necessarily do so. If the Commission’s assumption of no spillover effects is important to its decision, a rethink of the proposed settlement and order seems unavoidable.

As far as I can tell, however, Leibowitz and other defenders of this rationale for expanded Section 5 enforcement have not addressed this point, and they continue to rely, disingenuously, in my opinion, on claims that Section 5 enforcement will not lead to follow-on, private actions.

At the same time, as I pointed out here, Leibowitz’ continued claim that courts have reined in Sherman Act jurisprudence only out of concern with the incentives and procedures of private enforcement, and not out of a concern with a more substantive balancing of error costs–errors from which the FTC is not, unfortunately immune–seems ridiculous to me.  To be sure (as I said before), the procedural background matters as do the incentives to bring cases that may prove to be inefficient.

But take, for example, Twombly, mentioned by Leibowitz as one of the cases that has recently reined in Sherman Act enforcement in order to constrain over-zealous private enforcement (and thus not in a way that should apply to government enforcement).  Yes, of course, Twombly was concerned with the private incentives for bringing antitrust strike suits and the costs of such suits.  (And I note in passing that, while the specific monetary incentive at issue in the case might not apply to the government, the government, too, certainly has incentives to bring cases that may be weak–I hardly think the analysis is completely inapposite.  Meanwhile the costs of protracted litigation are just as high if the plaintiff is the government as if it is a private party.)

But the over-zealousness of private plaintiffs is not all it was about, as the Court made clear:

The inadequacy of showing parallel conduct or interdependence, without more, mirrors the ambiguity of the behavior: consistent with conspiracy, but just as much in line with a wide swath of rational and competitive business strategy unilaterally prompted by common perceptions of the market.  Accordingly, we have previously hedged against false inferences from identical behavior at a number of points in the trial sequence.

* * *

Hence, when allegations of parallel conduct are set out in order to make a §1 claim, they must be placed in a context that raises a suggestion of a preceding agreement, not merely parallel conduct that could just as well be independent action. [Citations omitted].

The Court was appropriately concerned with the ability of decision-makers to separate pro-competitive from anticompetitive conduct.  Even when the FTC brings cases, it and the court deciding the case must make these determinations.  And, while the FTC may bring fewer strike suits, it isn’t limited to challenging conduct that is simple to identify as anticompetitive.  Quite the opposite, in fact–the government has incentives to develop and bring suits proposing novel theories of anticompeitive conduct and of enforcement (as it is doing in the Intel case, for example).

I recognize that Leibowitz may believe that he is not susceptible to mistakes of this sort, or that (as Dan Crane might say), the FTC has a comparative institutional advantage over courts in making these sorts of determinations.  I disagree, but if that is the claim then Leibowitz should make it explicitly rather than suggesting that current Sherman Act jurisprudence is all about treble damages and strike suits.  I’m quite certain, however, that an explicit claim by the FTC that it never gets it wrong and thus shouldn’t be constrained by meddling courts wouldn’t be viewed very favorably by the business community.

Now, I’d like to highlight another portion of the speech Geoff mentioned that, as Commissioner Rosch has done in earlier remarks of his own, takes a shot at the Chicago School in order to justify greater intervention and a “reinvigorated” antitrust enterprise.  On the one hand, it sure is nice to see convergence between the agencies compared to the days when Commissioner Kovacic described the sister agencies as “an archipelago of policy makers with very inadequate ferry service between the islands” and “too many instances when you go to visit those islands the inhabitants come out with sticks and torches and try to chase you away.”  Ah.  Nothing like attacking a vaunted enemy of interventionist antitrust policy like the Chicago School bogeyman to create warm feelings between the agencies.   On the other hand, convergence would seem like a less impressive feat if what is converged upon is an embarrassing error that demonstrates a lack of understanding about the Chicago School in the first instance, and even still less impressive if the error is bootstrapped into justifications for policy changes.

What is all this about?  In leveraging discussion of the financial crisis as the basis of an argument that microeconomic theory that forms the basis of industrial organization economics has been turned on its head, the chiefs of both antitrust agencies have now made the same error.  I’ve criticized Commissioner’s Rosch’s error in declaring the Chicago School “on life support, if not dead” in great detail elsewhere.  Antitrust is getting a little bit depressing.  While the US enforcement agencies would have the Chicagoans on life support, or at least retired, of course, Professor Elhauge goes the whole way to “death of the single monopoly profit theorem.”  All this talk about the Chicago School’s death, retirement, general malaise and otherwise fragile state and one almost forgets the state of Supreme Court jurisprudence, much less the actual empirical evidence.

Let’s turn to AAG Varney’s statement:

The evolution of antitrust law needs to keep pace with the advancement of economic thinking. Judge Posner convincingly made this case for reassessing economic beliefs in his recent, thought-provoking piece entitled “How I Became a Keynesian: Second Thoughts in a Recession,” wherein he questioned some of the theoretical assumptions that had previously guided his work. In an even more recent interview, he is quoted to say that “‘the term “Chicago School” should be retired.’” Theoretical assumptions that market forces naturally and inevitably correct for market failures clearly need to be reconsidered. In the context of the Horizontal Merger Guidelines, the most relevant aspect of this reassessment involves explicit or implicit assumptions that entry will erode market power otherwise enhanced by a merger.

Here’s the link to the interview.  Varney clearly wants to use Posner’s quote about the retirement of the Chicago School to support the next sentence, that is, that we ought to reconsider our priors about markets working and reevaluate antitrust priorities in a way that supports greater intervention.  I mean, if Chicago’s own Richard Posner says the Chicago School should be retired — well, I leave the rest of the proof as an exercise for the reader.

So did Posner And here’s what Posner actually said:

Ronald (Coase) is alive, but he’s very, very old. He’s not active. Stigler is dead. Friedman is dead. There’s Gary (Becker) of course. But I’m not sure there’s a distinctive Chicago School anymore. Except there are probably a higher percentage of conservative people here, but not all. Jim Heckman—not particularly conservative at all. He’s very distinguished. Steve Levitt—he’s very famous. I don’t think he’s conservative. You’ve got people like (Richard) Thaler. So probably the term “Chicago School” should be retired.

There were people—people like Stigler and Coase, Harold Demsetz, Reuben Kessel, and people at other schools like Armen Alchian. They were people rebelling against the very liberal economics of the nineteen-fifties—very Keynesian, very regulatory, very aggressive anti-trust, little faith in the self-regulating nature of markets. Francis Bator, who’s a very distinguished Harvard economist, he wrote a famous essay entitled “The Anatomy of Market Failure.” And he gave so many examples of market failure that you couldn’t believe a market could exist. You have to have an infinite number of competitors, full information, you can’t have any economies of scale, and so on. It was too austere. That was what the Chicago people, with their more informal approach, rebelled against. So we had our moment in the sun, but by the nineteen-eighties the basic insights of the Chicago School had been accepted pretty much worldwide.

Posner did not make the point that the Chicago School ought to be retired because it is outdated, incorrect, or led to antitrust policy that provided inadequate protection for consumers because of misguided notions about market failures.  Posner was making the point, as he has made elsewhere time and time again, that the Chicago School as applied to regulation, antitrust, and industrial organization economics, had been so broadly adopted into mainstream economic thought that it no longer made sense to describe a distinctive “Chicago School.”  This is the point he also makes in the speech.   Posner, actually goes so far as to reject the assertion Varney invites the reader to make, i.e. that the financial crisis should undermine faith in markets in a sense relevant to regulation and antitrust generally.

When asked “Has the financial crisis undermined your faith in markets and the price system outside of the financial sector?”

Here is Judge Posner’s answer:

No. But of course one of the more significant Chicago (positions) was in favor of deregulation, based on the notion that markets are basically self-regulating. That’s fine. The mistake was to ignore externalities in banking. Everyone knew there were pollution externalities. That was fine. I don’t think we realized there were banking externalities, and that the riskiness of banking could facilitate a global financial crisis. That was a big oversight. It doesn’t make me feel any different about the deregulation of telecommunications, or oil pipelines, or what have you.

It really can’t be made more clear than that can it?  I understand that it is tempting to use figures like Greenspan and Posner to play “gotcha.”  I’m quite sure its even an effective rhetorical device at times with those who do not follow the debates closely or do not read the language carefully.  But in both cases, the AAG and the Commissioner do a disservice to those lawyers and economists in their agencies who are dedicated to getting the answer right by hard economic analysis and not by sloganeering.  For a serious and intellectually powerful discussion from a public antitrust enforcement official discussing the Chicago School’s role, along with contributions from Harvard, in forming the intellectual basis of modern antitrust jurisprudence, see Commissioner and former Chairman Kovacic’s seminal article on the subject.

As I’ve written on this topic previously:, at that time motivated by the declaration out of the Federal Trade Commission that the Chicago School was either on life support or dead:

I had always thought that the “Chicago School” stood for the proposition that microeconomic theory should be applied rigorously, with care and attention to institutional detail, and with an eye towards producing testable implications.  These are qualities, especially empiricism, that do not lend themselves to a reflexive “faith” that markets will produce only efficient behavior.  That faith, where it exists, is earned by persuasive theory and evidence.

And with all due respect to the Commissioner, an intellectually honest survey of the state of evidence concerning the actual competitive effects of antitrust-relevant business practices reveals that the Chicago School isn’t close to dead.  In fact, Chicago School principles are alive as ever in the Supreme Court’s jurisprudence.  Perhaps this disappoints the Commissioner and others who might like economics (and particularly Chicago School antitrust economics) to be a lesser constraint on antitrust enforcement decisions.  But it’s the state of play in both the federal courts and in the empirical antitrust literature.  The debate over whether to deviate from the state of play should be determined by the quality of theory and evidence.   A rigorous review of the empirical evidence suggests not only that the Chicago School of antitrust is alive, but in my view, that it is the “best available” mode of analysis for understanding many business practices relevant to antitrust enforcement.

The search for evidence-based antitrust cannot be conducted by assertion.  Instead, if it is to be fruitful, it must take a more scientific approach.

If the Chicago School’s influence on antitrust policy is going to be defeated — let it be by strong theoretical and empirical evidence that its insights give less predictive power than alternative theories and result in policies that provide fewer benefits to consumers than alternatives.  T-shirt slogans are not going to reverse Supreme Court decisions or win Section 2 cases — though perhaps acts of Congress and expanded use of Section 5 will leave a dent.  Still, here’s to authorities and leading voices in the antitrust community, and particular those at the antitrust enforcement agencies, using their podiums to encourage productive and intellectually honest debate and not cheap, deceptive, and misleading rhetorical tricks.

Speaking of, let’s have new Section 2 hearings!

Many hoped that the Live Nation-Ticketmaster merger would fall prey to a new economic populism. When the companies announced their plans to merge, some characterized the merger as a consolidation of “entertainment powerhouses” designed to inflate ticket prices and squeeze consumers. Public figures, including none other than Bruce Springsteen, condemned the combination. Members of Congress piled on, characterizing the transaction as a naked combination of industrial titans and demanding action from antitrust enforcers.

Meese and Richman go on to argue, based on their own analysis, that the merger would have been pro-competitive:

The Live Nation-Ticketmaster merger would have been another procompetitive victim to an angry public. Our careful analysis of the proposed merger reveals that it is much more a response to Schumpeterian technological change than an effort to concentrate market power. In other words, the companies are combining forces to pursue an innovative business model, one that pursues new consumer demands and responds to the rise of electronic music. It is not an attempt to acquire a stranglehold over an industry that technological change has made increasingly resistant to strangleholds.

The populist anger directed at the proposed merger — which was in no small part fueled by the companies’ smaller competitors who feared having difficulty competing effectively against the new company– characteristically did not discern the complexities of the industry and evaluate the merger’s likely competitive impact. Of course, few in Washington brake for complexity. Which is why it is a relief the Obama administration did.

I’ve not yet read the analysis, but plan on doing so soon.  In the meantime, here is how Meese & Richman close:

Even while the Obama Administration might engage in antitrust saber rattling, its approval the Live Nation-Ticketmaster and the associated consent decree shows the triumph of economic reasoning that is often counterintuitive to policy advocates. Its settlement further extracts concessions that further enhances competition, promotes innovation, and protects consumers. It is the commendable product of careful analysis reflects a deliberate navigation across the minefield of antitrust politicization.

I’m left with two questions.

The first, which I hinted at here, is that the combination of the structural fix coupled with the non-retaliation provisions strikes me as somewhat odd.  If the structural fixes restore competition, then why the need for restricting vertical contractual arrangements as between Ticketmaster and venue owners/ customers?  Here is DOJ Competitive Impact Statement.  Meese and Richman describe the settlement as extracting concessions that are pro-competitive and the product of careful analysis.  I agree with the authors that refusing to succumb to economic populism when the data and analysis go the other direction is a victory for rigorous antitrust analysis.  But I’m not yet convinced that the conditions are to be celebrated.  So, I wonder what the authors mean when they say the  concessions are pro-competitive, and in particular, whether the conduct fix can be said to be pro-competitive if the structural fix restores any perceived competition problem?  Or is the DOJ just hedging?

The second is a rhetorical question: I wonder whether Intel feels like despite the Obama administration’s “saber rattling,” they can rest assured that the invocation of Section 5 is a sign that economic reasoning will triumph over populism and politicization?

A recent posting there on The High Price of Job Creation has some important if scary graphs and offers some enormously important statistics to the ongoing stimulus debate.  As everyone knows, Obama called for more job-creating stimulus in his SOTU, one of the many elements from his SOTU that eerily tracks elements of previous SOTUs from his reviled predecessor.  But even if we accept that a government stimulus package would achieve its intended goals (I know, I know . . . ) what would it need to look like?  Given some seemingly reasonable assumptions about workforce participation, in order to reduce the unemployment rate to 8% (what Obama’s economists claimed the original stimulus package would accomplish) by November (I’m not sure why this date was chosen . . . ) the economy would need to

generate between 1.1 million and 1.9 million net new jobs per month to reach 8% unemployment by November.  Few expect aggregate employment to increase by these amounts over the entire ten month period, let alone each month until then.

The amount of spending required to achieve this objective would be staggering (it took $787 billion to “create or save” an alleged 2 million jobs in a year, recall).  And that’s assuming stimulus would be effective in its intended goal–an extraordinarily dubious assumption (rap video explanation here).  Most important, however, is a clear understanding of where such jobs would be created (or saved), and maybe the scariest graph from the post is this one, looking at public sector versus private sector employment since January 2007:

Alarming, no?  Of course past performance is no guarantee of future results, but given the political dynamics that shaped the first stimulus, I wouldn’t expect the apple to fall too far from the tree.  Every time partisan hacks like Brad DeLong and Paul Krugman argue that we need stimulus now, and we can worry about managing government costs later, think of this graph, and think about how easy it will be to pare down that bloated, inefficient and growth-curtailing government workforce.

In preparing for the conference, I checked Westlaw to see who (if anyone!) had cited my William & Mary article, and lo and behold, I came across a piece on post-Leegin RPM analysis by Christine Varney herself. Well guess what? It’s really quite good. We here at TOTM have occasionally been critical of Ms. Varney’s interventionist stances on antitrust (most recently here), but we must give credit where credit is due. And Ms. Varney’s article, A Post-Leegin Approach to Resale Price Maintenance Using a Structured Rule of Reason, is creditworthy.

As I do in both my William & Mary article and the paper I’m presenting tomorrow, Ms. Varney argues that plaintiffs challenging instances of RPM should bear the burden of proving that the preconditions for at least one of the theories of RPM-induced anticompetitive harm are satisfied. That may sound like a no-brainer, but it’s signficantly more stringent than any of the other liability rules courts, commentators, and regulators have thus far proposed.

The American Antitrust Institute and the attorneys general of 27 states, for example, would presume the illegality of any instance of RPM that raises consumer prices. That’s ridiculous, of course, for even RPM’s procompetitive potential stems from the fact that it generates output-enhancing services by raising prices and thereby enhancing retailer margins (and retailers’ incentives to promote the brand at issue).

The Babies-R-Us court, following the proposal of economists F.M. Scherer and William Comanor, deems any retailer-initiated RPM to be illegal. That’s troubling because, as I explained in this post, retailers have an incentive (and are particularly well-poised) to seek RPM for procompetitive purposes like avoiding free-riding. Retailer initiation is entirely consistent with procompetitive motivation (and effect), but it’s enough to render RPM per se illegal under the Babies-R-Us approach.

The Areeda treatise would deem illegal any RPM imposed on a homogeneous product that is not sold with services susceptible to free-riding. That’s too restrictive because, as I explain here (and as Josh has explained in a number of articles and posts), RPM has procompetitive uses besides the avoidance of free-riding. Most notably, it can act as an efficient mechanism for inducing dealers to promote a particular brand of even a homogeneous product. Thus, it may be output-enhancing even when applied to products that aren’t sold along with “free-rideable” point of sale services.

Finally, the FTC has taken the position (in deciding Nine West’s motion petition to modify an injunction) that RPM should be presumptively illegal unless the defendant makes a number of difficult showings. That’s inappropriate because theory and evidence suggest that most instances of RPM are procompetitive, and the RPM challenger therefore ought to bear the initial burden of proof.

Compared to these four proposed approaches, Ms. Varney’s proposed approach is a breath of fresh air. It correctly recognizes that anticompetitive uses of RPM are difficult to accomplish, and it properly places the initial burden on an RPM challenger to show that the preconditions for anticompetitive harm exist. (The defendant would then have a rebuttal opportunity, which is proper.) The showings necessary to state a prima facie case of illegality are quite difficult, but that’s entirely appropriate, given that most instances of RPM are procompetitive.

Ms. Varney’s article appears in the Fall 2009 issue of the ABA’s Antitrust Magazine and is available on Westlaw.

Everyone can agree that companies may have an obligation under Regulation S-K to disclose risks arising from, among other many things, climate change laws and regulations.  But this guidance goes further, urging companies to disclose risks arising from “physical effects of climate change.”  This is nonsense on stilts.  Leave aside the underlying inanity of the larger enterprise built on the premise that rationally-ignorant and rationally-passive individual investors should read, assess and make active investment decisions on the basis of massive amounts of regularly-disclosed information.  Here corporations are asked to disclose “information” about risks to the company posed by future, possible environmental conditions about which the firms know nothing, the science is utterly un-settled and speculative, and the actual physical and economic consequences of which are even less certain.  (I put the word information in scare quotes because nothing so speculative and uncertain can reasonably be called information).  What possible value could there be to investors (assuming there is any value to investors from disclosure of this type of information anyway) from the sorts of disclosures that would reasonably follow?:  “There is somewhere between a 0% and 90% chance that the temperature during either the summer or the winter or maybe-but-not-definitely both will be either warmer or colder by somewhere between 0.01 and 5 degrees sometime within the next 300 years.  This may or may not be bad for our business depending on whether it makes our customers richer or poorer, improves or harms our productivity and helps or harms our competitors by more or less than it helps or harms us.”

At least Troy Paredes isn’t buying it and once again stands nearly alone (Commissioner Casey also voted to reject) for common sense in Washington.  An extended quote from his statement at today’s hearing:

Second, the release states that companies “whose businesses may be vulnerable to severe weather or climate related events should consider disclosing material risks of, or consequences from,” the “physical effects of climate change, such as effects on the severity of weather (for example, floods or hurricanes), sea levels, the arability of farmland, and water availability and quality.”

The prospect that this guidance will in fact foster confusion and uncertainty about a company’s required disclosures troubles me. What triggers a “reputational damage” or “physical effects” disclosure is far from certain, as is the scope of any such disclosure if and when required. More to the point, reputational damage and the impact on a company of the physical effects of climate change can be quite speculative. There is a notable risk that the interpretive release will encourage disclosures that are unlikely to improve investor decision making and may actually distract investors from focusing on more important information. Here, it is worth recalling that, in rejecting the view that a fact is “material” if an investor “might” find it important, Justice Marshall, writing for the Supreme Court in TSC Industries, warned that “management’s fear of exposing itself to substantial liability may cause it simply to bury the shareholders in an avalanche of trivial information — a result that is hardly conducive to informed decisionmaking.

Also problematic are the interpretive release’s introductory and background discussions on climate change and its regulation. To me, the effect of the discussions is to find the Commission joining the ongoing debate over climate change by lending support to a particular view of climate change. Although the release does not expressly take sides, the release emphasizes the “concerns” and potential harms of climate change and discusses a range of regulatory and legislative developments, along with international efforts, aimed at regulating and otherwise remedying causes of climate change. In particular, the release highlights new EPA regulations, proposed “cap-and-trade” legislation, the Kyoto Protocol (which the U.S. has not ratified), the European Union Emissions Trading System, and recent discussions at the United Nations Climate Conference in Copenhagen. While the release stresses the risks of climate change and ongoing efforts to regulate greenhouse gas emissions in the U.S. and abroad, the release fails to recognize that the climate change debate remains unsettled and that many have questioned the appropriateness of the regulatory, legislative, and other initiatives aimed at reducing emissions that the release features. In short, I am troubled that the release does not strike a more neutral and balanced tone when it comes to climate change — an area far outside this agency’s expertise.

Finally, given that there are more pressing priorities before the Commission, now is not the time for this agency to consider climate change disclosure.

For these reasons, I am not able to support the release before us. Nonetheless, I would like to thank the staff for their efforts and professionalism.

On the bright side, maybe this means the SEC is qualified to investigate the fraudulent disclosures in the UN IPCC’s Fourth Assessment Report.  On the other hand, the existence of such . . . misstatements in the authoritative global survey of climate change science suggests that, as Troy suggests, this whole endeavor will have few of the intended–and plenty of unintended–consequences.