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Regulate for What? A Closer Look at the Rationale and Goals of Digital Competition Regulations

ICLE White Paper For more on this topic, see the ICLE Issue Spotlight “Digital Competition Regulations Around the World.” Executive Summary Inspired by the European Union’s Digital Markets . . .

For more on this topic, see the ICLE Issue Spotlight “Digital Competition Regulations Around the World.”

Executive Summary

Inspired by the European Union’s Digital Markets Act (DMA), a growing number of jurisdictions around the globe either have adopted or are considering adopting a framework of ex-ante rules to more closely regulate the business models and behavior of online platforms.

These digital competition regulations (“DCRs”) share two key features. The first is that they target so-called “gatekeepers” who control the world’s largest online platforms. Such regulations assume that these firms have accumulated a degree of economic and political power that allows them to harm competition, exclude rivals, exploit users, and possibly inflict a broader range of social harms in ways that cannot be adequately addressed through existing competition laws. Typically cited as examples of gatekeepers are the main platforms of Google, Amazon, Facebook/Meta, Apple, and Microsoft.

The second common features of these DCR regimes is that they impose similar, if not identical, per-se prohibitions and obligations on gatekeepers. These often include prohibitions on self-preferencing and the use of third-party party data, as well as obligations for interoperability and data sharing. These two basic characteristics set DCRs apart from other forms of “digital regulation”—e.g., those that concern with AI, privacy, or content moderation and misinformation.

This paper seeks to understand what digital competition regulations aim to achieve and whether a common rationale underpins their promulgation across such a broad swatch of territories.

A. Multiple and Diverging Goals?

We find that DCRs pursue multiple goals that may vary across jurisdictions. Some DCRs are guided by the same goals as competition law, and may even be embedded into such laws. Such is the case, e.g., in Germany and Turkey. Other regulations address competition concerns under differing or modified standards. Examples here include the “material-harm-to-competition” standard in the United States and, arguably, digital competition regulation in the UK and Australia—where traditional competition-law goals such as the protection of competition and consumer welfare comingle with an increased emphasis on “fairness.”

DCRs sometimes pursue a much broader set of goals. For instance, a prospective digital competition regulation in South Africa seeks greater visibility and opportunities for small South African platforms and increased inclusivity of historically disadvantaged peoples, along with other more competition-oriented objectives (this duality is a common feature of South African legislation). Similarly, a bill proposed in Brazil attempts to reduce regional and social inequality, as well as to widen social participation in matters of public interest, alongside its stated effort to protect competition.

In the United States, apart from protection of competition, proponents of the (now-stalled) DCR bills have invoked a broad set of potential benefits, including fairness; fair prices; a more level playing field; reduced gatekeeper power; protections for small and medium-sized enterprises (“SMEs”); reduced costs for consumers; and boosts to innovation.

Some DCRs, however, are not promulgated in pursuit of competition-oriented objectives at all—at least, not explicitly or not in the sense in which such objectives are understood in traditional competition law. The clearest example is the EU’s DMA itself, which openly eschews traditional competition-related goals and instead seeks to make digital markets “fair” and “contestable.”

B. A New Form of Competition Regulation

Regardless of the overarching goals, it is evident that DCRs incorporate themes and concepts familiar to the competition lawyer, such as barriers to entry, exclusionary conduct, competitive constraints, monopolistic outcomes, and, in some cases, even market power. This may, at first blush, hint at a close relationship between digital competition regulation and competition law. While not entirely incorrect, that assessment must come with a number of caveats.

DCRs diverge in subtle but significant ways from mainstream notions of competition law. We posit that DCRs are guided by three fundamental goals: wealth redistribution among firms, the protection of competitors of incumbent digital platforms, and the “leveling down” of those same digital platforms.

C. Rent Redistribution Among Firms

The notion of “gatekeepers” itself presumes asymmetrical power relations between digital platforms and other actors, which are further presumed both to lead to unfair outcomes and to be insurmountable without regulatory intervention. Thus, the first commonality among the DCRs we study is that they all seek to transfer rents directly from gatekeepers to rival firms, complementors, and, to a lesser extent, consumers. This conclusion follows inexorably from the DCRs’ stated goals, the prohibitions and obligations they promulgate, and the public statements of those who promote them.

While the extent to which various groups are intended to benefit from this rent re-allocation might not always be identical, all DCRs aim to redistribute rents generated on digital platforms away from gatekeepers and toward some other group or groups—most commonly the business users active on those platforms.

D. Protection of Competitors

Another important feature that DCRs share is the common goal not just to protect business users, but to directly benefit competitors—including, but not limited to, via rent redistribution. DCRs are concerned with ensuring that competitors—even if they are less efficient—enter or remain on the market. This is evidenced by the lack of overarching efficiency or consumer-welfare goals—at the very least, for those regulations not based on existing competition laws—that would otherwise enable enforcers to differentiate anticompetitive exclusion of rivals from those market exits that result from rivals’ inferior product offerings.

This focus on protecting competitors can also be seen in DCRs’ pursuit of “contestability.” As defined by DCRs, promoting contestability entails diminishing the benefits of network effects and the data advantages enjoyed by incumbents because they make it hard for other firms to compete, not because they are harmful in and of themselves or because they have been acquired illegally or through deceit. In other words, DCRs pursue contestability—understood as other firms’ ability to challenge incumbent digital platforms’ position—regardless of the efficiency of those challengers or the ultimate effects on consumers.

E. ‘Leveling Down’ Gatekeepers

The other way that DCRs seek to balance power relations and achieve fairness is by “leveling down” the status of the incumbent digital platforms. DCRs directly and indirectly worsen gatekeepers’ competitive position in at least three ways:

  1. By imposing costs on gatekeepers not borne by competitors;
  2. By negating gatekeepers’ ability to capitalize on key investments; and
  3. By facilitating third parties’ free riding on those investments.

For example, prohibitions on the use of nonpublic (third-party) data benefit competitors, but they also negate the massive investments that incumbents have made in harvesting that data. Similarly, data-sharing obligations impose a cost on gatekeepers because data-tracking and sharing is anything but free. Gatekeepers are expected to aid and subsidize competitors and third parties at little or no cost, thereby diminishing their competitive position and dissipating their resources (and investments) for the benefit of another group. The same can be said, mutatis mutandis, for other staples of digital competition regulation, such as prohibitions on self-preferencing and sideloading mandates.

F. The Perils of Redistributive and Protectionist Competition Regulation

It should be noted, of course, that direct rent redistribution among firms is generally not the goal of competition law. Rent redistribution entails significant risks of judicial error and rent seeking. Regulators may require firms to supply their services at inefficiently low prices that are not mutually advantageous, and may diminish those same firms’ incentives to invest and innovate. Those difficulties are compounded in the fast-moving digital space, where innovation cycles are faster, and yesterday’s prices and other nonprice factors may no longer be relevant today. In short, rent redistribution is difficult to do well in traditional natural-monopoly settings and may be impossible to do without judicial error in the digital world.

Protecting competitors at the expense of competition, as DCRs aim to do, is equally problematic. Competition depresses prices, increases output, leads to the efficient allocation of resources, and encourages firms to innovate. By facilitating competitors—including those that may have fallen behind precisely because they have not made the same investments in technology, innovation, or product offerings—DCRs may dampen incentives to strive to become a so-called gatekeeper, to the ultimate detriment of consumers. Protecting competition benefits the public, but protecting competitors safeguards their special interests at the public’s expense.

This is not only anathema to competition law but also to free competition. As Judge Learned Hand observed 80 years ago in his famous Alcoa decision: “the successful competitor, having been urged to compete, must not be turned upon when he wins.” Critiques of digital competition regulation’s punitive impulse against incumbent platforms flow from this essential premise—which, we contend, is the cornerstone of good competition regulation. The multiplicity of alternative justifications put forward by proponents of such regulations are generally either pretextual or serve as a signal to the voting public. To paraphrase Aldous Huxley: “several excuses are always less convincing than one.”

We end by speculating that digital competition regulation could signal more than just a digression from established principles in a relatively niche, technical field such as competition law. If extended, the DCR approach could mark a new conception of the roles of companies, markets, and the state in society. In this “post-neoliberal” world, the role of the state would not be limited to discrete interventions to address market failures that harm consumers, invoking general, abstract, and reactive rules—such as, among others, competition law. It would instead be free to intercede aggressively to redraw markets, redesign products, pick winners, and redistribute rents; indeed, to function as the ultimate ordering power of the economy.

Ultimately, however, we conclude that it is too early to make any such generalizations, and that only time will tell whether digital competition regulation was truly a sign of things to come, or merely a small but ultimately insignificant abrupt dirigiste turn in the zig-zagging of antitrust history.


Inspired by the European Union’s Digital Markets Act (“DMA”),[1] a growing number of jurisdictions around the globe either have adopted or are considering adopting a framework of ex-ante rules to more closely regulate the business models and behavior of online platforms.

These “digital competition regulations”[2] (“DCRs”) share two key features. The first is that they target so-called “gatekeepers” who control the world’s largest online platforms. Such regulations assume that these firms have accumulated a degree of economic and political power that allows them to harm competition, exclude rivals, exploit users, and possibly inflict a broader range of social harms in ways that cannot be adequately addressed through existing competition laws.[3] Typically cited as examples of gatekeepers are the main platforms of Google, Amazon, Facebook/Meta, Apple, and Microsoft.

The second common feature these DCR regimes share is that they impose similar, if not identical, per-se prohibitions and obligations on gatekeepers. These often include prohibitions on self-preferencing and the use of third-party party data, as well as obligations for interoperability and data sharing. These two basic characteristics set DCRs apart from other forms of “digital regulation”—e.g., those dealing with AI,[4] privacy,[5] or content moderation and misinformation.[6]

It is not, however, always entirely clear what DCRs aim to achieve. A cursory survey suggests that these rules pursue different goals, without an immediately apparent unifying theme. For example, some DCRs have been integrated into existing competition laws and ostensibly pursue the same goals: the protection of competition and consumer welfare. Others aim for a range of goals—including, but not limited to, competition—such as the protection of small and medium-sized enterprises (“SMEs”); regional equality; social participation; and improving the lot of business users who operate on online platforms. Some DCRs purposefully and explicitly sidestep competition-oriented considerations, aiming instead for such adjacent but ultimately distinct goals as “fairness” and “contestability.”[7]

What emerges is a seeming patchwork of goals and objectives. In this paper, we seek to assess those disparate goals and objectives, drawing on many of the major proposed and enacted DCRs.

Part I examines the goals that DCRs claim to pursue. It takes those goals at face value and offers a largely descriptive account of the objectives offered. Where necessary (such as, for example, where those goals are cryptic or not clearly articulated), reference is made to public statements by those who promulgated them.

Part II argues that DCRs are best understood as a new form of law, grounded in ideas that have found limited success in competition law itself. To some extent, DCRs are based on a common narrative that has transformed some of the core principles and themes of antitrust law. As such, DCRs partially jibe with antitrust law, but ultimately diverge from it in subtle but consequential ways.

Part III argues that, despite superficial differences, DCRs share three common goals. The first is a desire to redistribute rents from some companies to others. At the most fundamental level, DCRs all seek to address what are perceived to be extreme power imbalances between digital platforms and the rest of society—especially business users and competitors. Thus, they seek to redistribute rents away from so-called “gatekeepers” and toward the business users that operate on those platforms, and to promote competitors (including, but not limited to, via rent redistribution).

DCRs are particularly concerned with ensuring that competitors, even if they are less efficient, enter or remain in the market. This is evidenced by a lack of overarching efficiency or consumer-welfare goals—even in those regulations that are based on existing competition laws—that would otherwise enable enforcers to differentiate between anticompetitive exclusion of rivals and market exit that results from rivals’ inferior product offerings. The focus on protecting competitors also stems from DCRs’ pursuit of “contestability.” In this context, promoting contestability entails diminishing the benefits of the network effects and the data advantages enjoyed by incumbents on the theory that they make it difficult for other firms to compete—not because they are harmful to consumers or because they have been acquired illegally or through deceit.

The third way that DCRs seek to balance power relations and achieve fairness is by “leveling down” the status of the incumbent digital platforms. DCRs worsen the competitive position of gatekeepers in at least three ways:

  1. By imposing costs on gatekeepers not borne by competitors;
  2. By negating their ability to capitalize on key investments; and
  3. By helping third parties to free ride on those investments.

Essentially, gatekeepers are expected to aid and subsidize competitors and third parties at little or no cost. This, in turn, diminishes their competitive position and dissipates their resources (and investments) for the benefit of another group.

Part IV concludes. It speculates that DCRs might signal the advent of a new paradigm in political economy: a redrawing of the existing lines and roles between states, markets, and firms, with greater emphasis on the role of the state as the ultimate ordering power of the economy. In hindsight, one expression of this could turn out to be the overturning (if only partial) of the essential principles of modern competition policy: the protection of competition rather than competitors, a policy emphasis on maximizing economic output rather than rent redistribution among firms, and a commitment to merit, rather than fairness and equity. It is difficult to overstate how deeply at loggerheads this conception of the role of competition is from the existing, predominant paradigm long found in competition law.

I. A Cacophony of Goals in Digital Competition Regulation

Most DCRs pursue multiple overlapping objectives. The global picture is even more complex, as there is only partial overlap among the various goals pursued by DCRs in different jurisdictions.

Some DCRs are an extension of competition-law frameworks and are sometimes even formally embedded into existing competition laws. In principle, this means that the standard goals and rationale of competition law apply. Germany, for instance, recently amended its Competition Act, emphasizing the need to “intervene at an early stage in cases where competition is threatened by certain large digital companies.”[8] According to the Bundeskartellamt:

The newly introduced Section 19a probably represents the most important change as the Bundeskartellamt will now be able to intervene at an early stage in cases where competition is threatened by certain large digital companies. As a preventive measure the Bundeskartellamt can prohibit certain types of conduct by companies which, due to their strategic position and their resources, are of paramount significance for competition across markets.[9]

Similarly, Turkey currently is looking to amend the Turkish Competition Act with the objectives of promoting competition and innovation in digital markets; protecting consumer and business rights; and ensuring that gatekeepers do not engage in anticompetitive practices.[10] Proponents argue that the current Turkish Competition Act is not adequately equipped to address anticompetitive conduct in digital markets—such as, e.g., that the process of defining relevant markets is inappropriate for dynamic and global digital ecosystems and that specific regulations are needed due to the network effects that digital platforms confer.[11] These are all nominally competition-related concerns.[12] Other proposed changes to the Turkish Competition Act similarly reflect an increased emphasis on competition. For instance, in merger analysis, the current “dominance test” would be substituted with a “significant impediment to effective competition test,” similar to that in the EU merger-control regime. A “de minimis” rule would also be added to Article 41 to exempt agreements “that do not significantly impede competition.”

Other DCRs appear, at least to some extent, to pursue competition-law-inspired goals, despite not being formally incorporated into existing competition laws. In South Korea, for example, the Korean Fair Trade Commission (“KFTC”) recently proposed a draft DMA-style bill, the Platform Competition Promotion Act,  whose purpose is establish ex-ante rules to restore competition rapidly in designated markets “without the tedious process of defining a relevant market through economic analysis.”[13] According to the KFTC, digital competition regulation is necessary to combat monopolization in digital markets, where monopolies tend to become entrenched.[14]  As some observers have noted,[15] the Platform Competition Promotion Act covers conduct already addressed by South Korea’s existing Monopoly Regulation and Fair Trade Act.[16] Thus, while the draft bill is likely to be passed as a separate piece of legislation, there appears to be a continuum between it and South Korean competition law.

In the United Kingdom, the 2023 Digital Markets, Competition, and Consumer Bill (“DMCC”) is in the final stages of legislative approval.[17] The DMCC aims to “provide for the regulation of competition in digital markets” and, in theory, dovetails with goals pursued by competition law (it even invokes familiar competition-law themes, such as market power).[18] The DMCC would grant the UK antitrust enforcer, the Competition and Markets Authority (“CMA”), power to take “pro-competition interventions” where it has reasonable grounds to believer there may be an adverse effect on competition.[19]

The DMCC has, however, also been touted as a tool to “stamp out unfairness in digital markets.”[20] This could refer to the bill’s consumer-protection provisions, which would prohibit, inter alia, unfair commercial practices.[21] But it may also suggest that the DMCC goes beyond the remit of traditional competition law, in which “unfairness” is generally not central, except within the relatively narrow confines of the abuse-of-dominance provision under S.18 of the Competition Act.[22]

Further, in a press release welcoming the DMCC draft, the CMA enumerated the bill’s benefits as falling into the three categories of “consumer protection,” “competition,” and “digital markets.”[23] The second category grants the CMA increased powers to “identify and stop unlawful anticompetitive conduct more quickly.”[24] The third, however, proposes that the bill will “[enable] all innovating businesses to compete fairly.”[25] This could imply that competition rules in “digital markets” would be governed by different principles than those that apply in “traditional” markets—that is, those that do not involve the purchase or sale of goods over the internet, or the provision of digital content.[26] The DMCC’s provisions on “digital markets” are also formally separate from those on “competition.”[27]

In Australia, the Australian Competition and Consumers Commission (“ACCC”) is conducting a five-year digital-platform-services inquiry (“DPS Inquiry”), set to be finalized in March 2025.[28] The ACCC recommended, as part of the inquiry’s fifth interim report, service-specific obligations (similar to the UK’s proposed ex-ante rules) for “designated” digital platforms.[29] These would serve to address “anticompetitive conduct, unfair treatment of business users and barriers to entry and expansion that prevent effective competition in digital platform markets.”[30] Thus, alongside competition law’s traditional concerns (e.g., harms and benefits to consumers, innovation, efficiency, and “effective competition”), the ACCC would also incorporate concerns over “fairness” and, especially, the protection of business users.

In the United States, several bills have been put forward that are formally separate from existing antitrust law, but cover some of the same conduct as would typically be addressed under U.S. antitrust law—albeit with seemingly different goals and standards. Some of these new goals and standards represent only slight variations on the usual goals of competition law. Three main pieces of legislation have so far been put forward: the American Innovation and Choice Online Act (“AICOA”),[31] the Open App Market Act (“OAMA”),[32] and the Augmenting Compatibility and Competition by Enabling Service Switch Act (“ACCESS Act”)[33] (together, “U.S. tech bills”).

Although the U.S. tech bills largely fail to describe their underlying goals, the titles of the bills and statements made by their sponsors suggest a set of overlapping concerns, such as preventing “material harm to competition,”[34] reducing “gatekeeper power in the app economy,”[35] and “increasing choice, improving quality, and reducing costs for consumers.”[36] These goals appear to fall relatively well within the traditional remit of antitrust law.

But there are others. According to U.S. Sen. Amy Klobuchar (D-Minn.), the primary sponsor or cosponsor of several of the U.S. tech bills, AICOA is intended to “restore competition online by establishing commonsense rules of the road,” “ensure small businesses and entrepreneurs still have the opportunity to succeed in the digital marketplace,” and “create a more even playing field,” all “while also providing consumers with the benefit of greater choice online.”[37] “Fairness,” “fair prices,” and “innovation” all have also been invoked by the bills’ supporters.[38]

At the same time, for three out of the 10 types of challenged conduct, AICOA would require demonstrating “material harm to competition,” which would suggest that one of that bill’s goals is to protect competition. As the American Bar Association’s Antitrust Section has observed, however, there is no “material harm to competition” standard in U.S. antitrust law.[39] This suggests that AICOA may posit a different interpretation of what it means to protect competition, or of what sort of competition should be protected, than does traditional U.S. antitrust law.

OAMA, on the other hand, aims to open competitive avenues for startup apps, third-party app stores, and payment services in existing digital ecosystems.[40] Its title reads: “to promote competition and reduce gatekeeper power in the app economy, increase choice, improve quality, and reduce costs for consumers.” Unlike AICOA, however, OAMA would not require a showing of harm to competition—material or otherwise—to establish liability, which appears to suggest that competition might be less of a concern than the bill’s title implies.

Finally, the ACCESS Act is intended to “promote competition, lower entry barriers and reduce switching costs for consumers and businesses online.”[41] U.S. Sen. Mark Warner (D-Va.), the bill’s primary sponsor, has said that the ACCESS Act will promote competition, allow startups to “compete on equal terms with the biggest social media companies,” and “level the playing field between consumers and companies” by giving them more control over who manages their privacy.[42] Again, these are antitrust-adjacent objectives, but with a flavor (“equal terms,” “level playing field,” etc.) that is largely foreign to U.S. antitrust law.

Other DCRs pursue a mix of competition and noncompetition goals. The South African Competition Commission’s (“SACC”) Final Report on the Online Intermediation Platforms Market Inquiry, for example, found that remedial actions similar to the ex-ante rules contemplated in the DMA and elsewhere are needed to grant “[g]reater visibility and opportunity for smaller South African platforms” to compete with international players; “[e]nabl[e] more intense platform competition,” offer “more choice and innovation”; reduce prices for consumers and business users; “[p]rovid[e] a level playing field for small businesses selling through these platforms, including fairer pricing and opportunities”; and “[p]rovid[e] a more inclusive digital economy” for historically disadvantaged peoples.[43]

In a similar vein, Brazil’s proposed law PL 2768/2022 (“PL 2768”) pursues an expansive grab-bag of social and economic goals.[44] Article 4 states that targeted digital platforms must operate based on the following principles: freedom of initiative, free competition, consumer protection, a reduction in regional and social inequality, combatting the abuse of economic power, and widening social participation in matters of public interest.[45] In addition, PL 2768 also states as objectives that it will enable access to information, knowledge, and culture; foster innovation and mass access to new technologies and access models; promote interoperability among apps; and enable data portability.[46]

Finally, there are those DCRs that claim not to pursue competition-oriented goals at all. The DMA has two stated goals: “fairness” and “contestability,”[47] and explicitly denies being bound by, or even pursuing, the traditional goals of competition law: protecting competition and consumer welfare.[48] According to the DMA, competition, consumer welfare, and efficiency considerations such as those that underpin antitrust law are not relevant under the new framework. This is, according to the DMA’s text, because the goals of competition law and the DMA “are complimentary but ultimately distinct.”[49]

Interestingly, however, few other DCRs have so steadfastly disavowed competition considerations, even those that copy the DMA’s provisions verbatim. India is a case in point. In 2023, a report by the Standing Committee on Finance argued that, if digital competition regulation was not passed, “interconnected digital markets will rapidly demonstrate monopolistic outcomes that prevent fair competition. This will restrict consumer choice, inhibit business users, and prevent the rise of dynamic new companies.”[50] These concerns jibe with traditional antitrust goals, as indicated inter alia by the report’s title (“anti-competitive practices by big tech companies”). Later, another report—the Report of the Committee on Digital Competition Law (“CDC Report”)—proposed a Draft Digital Competition Bill (“DCB”).[51] According to the CDC Report, DMA-style digital competition regulation was needed to supplement the 2002 Indian Competition Act (“ICA”),[52] which—and here is the interesting part—supposedly also aims to promote “fairness and contestability.”[53]

But the ICA’s stated aims were the protection of competition, the interests of consumers, and free trade.[54] The Report of the High-Powered Expert Committee on Competition Law and Policy (“Raghavan Committee Report”),[55] which served as the basis for the ICA, modernized Indian competition law by moving it away from the structure-based paradigm of the earlier Anti-Monopolies and Restrictive Trade Practices Act of 1969 and toward an economic-effects-based analysis. The Raghavan Committee Report was unequivocal in its support of consumer welfare as the system’s ultimate goal.[56] Moreover, the report advised against a plurality of goals, including, specifically, “bureaucratic perceptions”[57] of equity and fairness, which, it argued, were mutually contradictory, difficult to quantify, and potentially opposed to the sustenance of free, unfettered competition.[58] It is therefore curious, to say the least, that the CDC Report would now, in hindsight, recast the ICA’s goals to support essentially the opposite idea.

The multiplicity of goals and their unclear, partially overlapping relationship with competition law raises questions about how we should think about these laws and, indeed, whether we can even think of them as a coherent, unified group. In the next section, we seek to untangle the nature and classification of digital competition regulation.

II. A New Form of Competition Regulation

DCRs are likely best understood as a new form of competition regulation. As some authors have noted, the precise relationship between competition law and the EU’s DMA is difficult to pinpoint.[59] In a similar vein, it is evident that many DCRs incorporate themes and concepts familiar to the competition lawyer, such as barriers to entry, exclusionary conduct, competitive constraints, monopolistic outcomes, and, in some cases, even market power. At first blush, this may suggest a direct relationship between digital competition regulation and competition law. While not entirely incorrect, that assessment comes with considerable caveats.

In this section, we argue that DCRs are a new form of competition regulation that diverges in subtle but definitive ways from mainstream notions of competition law. In essence, DCRs take plausible competition-law themes and alter and subvert them in fundamental ways, creating what could be described as sector-specific[60] or enforcer-friendly[61] competition laws. Due to their blend of competition principles and prescriptive, top-down regulatory provisions, we have opted for the term “digital competition regulation.” To understand their nature, we must start with their underlying assumptions and the ills they claim to address.

A. The DCR Narrative

A starting assumption of all DCRs is that there is an extreme imbalance of power between large digital platforms and virtually every other stakeholder with whom they deal—from other industries to the businesses that operate on digital platforms to their competitors to, finally, end-users.[62] Even governments are often presumed to be virtually powerless in the face of the depredations of so-called “Big Tech.”[63] The adage that “big tech has too much power” has been almost universally endorsed by proponents of DCRs and strong antitrust enforcement;[64] is explicitly or implicitly embedded into those DCRs;[65] and now also permeates popular discourse, media, and entertainment.[66] The corollary is that asymmetric regulation is needed to help those other actors that have been “dispossessed” by big-tech platforms.

This notion is widespread and underpins a range of other policy proposals, not just DCRs. For example, the EU is considering a “Fair Share” regulation that would address the supposed power imbalance between tech companies and telecommunications operators, by forcing the former to pay for the infrastructure of the latter.[67] Similarly, various “bargaining codes” either already have been adopted or are currently under consideration to force tech companies to pay news publishers. In Australia, the Treasury Laws Amendment (News Media and Digital Platforms Mandatory Bargaining Code) Act 2021 (“Bargaining Code”) was put in place to address the supposed bargaining-power imbalance between digital platforms and news-media businesses.[68]  According to the ACCC, digital-advertisement regulation was necessary to support the sustainability of the Australian news-media sector, “which is essential to a well-functioning democracy.”[69] Laws with a similar rationale have also been passed or are under consideration in other jurisdictions.[70]

All these initiatives originate from the same foundational assumption, which is that tech companies are more powerful than anyone else, and are therefore able to get away with imposing draconian conditions unilaterally that allow them to benefit disproportionately at the expense of all other parties, business users, complementors, and consumers. While it is not always easy to identify a coherent thread running through the rules and prohibitions contained in DCRs and other initiatives to regulate “Big Tech,” a good rule of thumb to understand the unifying logic behind these initiatives is that digital platforms should have less “power,” and other stakeholders should have more “power.”

Sometimes—but by no means always—this also encompasses familiar notions of “market power,” i.e., firms’ ability to profitably raise prices because of the absence of sufficient competition. In fact, in most DCRs, “power” stems from the fact that an online platform is an important gateway for business users to reach consumers.[71] This is considered manifestly evident by the platform’s size, turnover, or “strategic” importance.[72] As Bundeskartellamt (the German competition authority) President Andreas Mundt has put it: “we shouldn’t talk about this narrow issue of price, we should talk about power.”[73]

DCRs embody this principle. They seek to extract better deals for the party or parties that are considered to suffer from an imbalance of bargaining power vis-à-vis digital platforms—such as, for instance, through interoperability and data-sharing mandates. As we argue in Section III, these beneficiaries are intended to be the platform’s business users and competitors.

The reasoning is as follows. The asymmetrical power relations between digital platforms and other actors are presumed to lead to unfair outcomes in how these stakeholders are treated and the ways that rents are allocated across the supply chain. As the DMA explains in its preamble:

The combination of those features of gatekeepers is likely to lead, in many cases, to serious imbalances in bargaining power and, consequently, to unfair practices and conditions for business users, as well as for end users of core platform services provided by gatekeepers, to the detriment of prices, quality, fair competition, choice and innovation in the digital sector.[74]

Once it is accepted that power relations between digital platforms and other stakeholders are unfairly skewed, any outcome resulting from the interaction of the two groups must also, by definition, be “unfair.” For example, under the DMA, “unfairness” is broadly defined as “an imbalance between the rights and obligations of business users where the gatekeeper obtains a disproportionate advantage.”[75] A “fair” outcome would be one in which market participants—including, but not limited to, business users—“adequately” capture the benefits from their innovations or other efforts, something the DMA assumes is currently not taking place due to gatekeepers’ superior bargaining power.

In the world of digital competition regulation, “unfairness” is a foregone conclusion. And, sure enough, the concept of “fairness” is the central normative value driving these regulations. Proponents liberally invoke it[76] and it features prominently in DCRs.[77] This narrative, however, is built on premises that differ markedly from those of antitrust law. We discuss these below.

B. Key Differences in First Principles

The DMA is the original blueprint for all digital competition regulation that has followed in its wake. The DMA’s text states that it is distinct from competition law:

This Regulation pursues an objective that is complementary to, but different from that of protecting undistorted competition on any given market, as defined in competition-law terms, which is to ensure that markets where gatekeepers are present are and remain contestable and fair, independently from the actual, potential or presumed effects of the conduct of a given gatekeeper covered by this Regulation on competition on a given market. This Regulation therefore aims to protect a different legal interest from that protected by those rules and it should apply without prejudice to their application.[78]

Other DCRs are rarely so candid about their break with competition law. On the contrary, some are even outwardly couched in competition-based terms. But in the end, DCRs replicate all or most of the prohibitions and obligations pioneered by the DMA.[79] DCRs also apply largely to the same companies as the DMA or, at the very least, use the same thresholds to establish which companies should be subject to regulation.[80]

This leads to a curious “Schrödinger’s DCR” scenario, where the same substantive rules simultaneously are and are not competition law. In the EU, for example, they are not; but in Turkey and Germany, they are. India’s DCB is a verbatim copy of the DMA, yet it is presented as a specific competition law.[81] This apparent contradiction is salvageable only if one thinks of digital competition regulation neither as competition law, strictu sensu, nor as an entirely separate regulation, but rather, as a partially overlapping tool that regulates competition and competition-related conduct in a different—and sometimes fundamentally different—manner.

Consider the example of the EU. EU competition law seeks to protect competition and consumer welfare. The DMA, on the other hand, is guided by the twin goals of “fairness” and “contestability.” As such, under the DMA (as under all other DCRs) the relevant standards are inverted. Under most DCRs, market power—understood as a firm’s ability to raise praises profitably—is either immaterial or not essential to establish whether a firm is a gatekeeper.[82] The competition-law practice of defining relevant markets on a case-by-case basis to determine whether a company has market power is, therefore, likewise moot.[83]

That approach is instead substituted for a list of pre-determined “core platform services,” which are thought to be sufficiently unique that they necessitate special and more stringent regulation.[84] Notably, and unlike in competition law, this presumption admits no evidence to the contrary. Once a good or service is marked as a core platform service, all a company can do to escape digital competition regulation is to argue either that it is not a gatekeeper, or that its services do not fall into the definition of a core platform service.

A corollary of this is that it is typically irrelevant whether a firm is dominant, or even a monopolist. Instead, DCRs apply to companies with high turnover and many business- or end-users—in other words, to “big” companies or companies people currently rely on or like to use.

Lastly, consumer-welfare considerations, which are central under competition law,[85] play only a marginal role in digital competition regulation, both in imposing prohibitions and mandates and in exempting companies from fulfilling those prohibitions or obligations.[86] While DCR supporters applaud this shift toward a broader conception of power,[87] it is important to understand how this approach differs from competition law.[88]

Competition law generally does not engage companies for being big or “important”—even if they are of “paramount importance”—except in very narrow instances, such as those prescribed by the essential-facilities doctrine.[89] Rather, antitrust targets conduct that restricts competition to the ultimate detriment of consumers. To establish whether a company has the ability and incentive to restrict competition, an assessment of market power is typically required, and definitions of relevant product and geographic markets are instrumental to that end.

Even the concept of dominance in competition law eschews crude arithmetic in favor of evidence-based analysis of market power, including the dynamics of the specific market; the extent to which products are differentiated; and shifts in market-share trends over time.[90] As one leading EU competition-law textbook puts it:

The assessment of substantial market power calls for a realistic analysis of the competitive pressure both from within and from outside the relevant market. A finding of a dominant position derives from a combination of several factors which, taken separately, are not necessarily determinative.[91]

Well-established competition-law principles—such as the prevention of free-riding,[92] the protection of competition rather than competitors,[93] and the freedom of even a monopolist to set its own terms and choose with whom it does business[94]—all preclude the imposition of hard-and-fast prohibitions and obligations without a robust case-by-case analysis or consideration of countervailing efficiencies. The narrow exceptions are those few cases where (substantive) experience shows that per-se prohibitions are warranted. But note that even cartels, “the cancers of the market economy,”[95] can generally be exempted under EU competition law.[96]

There exists no such consensus about the harms inflicted by the sort of gatekeeper conduct covered by DCRs.[97] Yet in digital competition regulation, strict (often per-se) prohibitions and obligations based on a company’s size are the norm.

C. The Transformation of Familiar Antitrust Themes

Even those DCRs that explicitly allude to competition-related objectives—such as the protection of competition and consumers—modify those objectives in subtle, but important ways. The U.S. tech bills are a case in point. AICOA would introduce a new “material harm to competition” standard. This facially sounds like it could be an existing standard under U.S. antitrust law, but it is not.[98]

DCRs also combine traditional competition-law objectives with considerations that would not be cognizable under antitrust law. For example, Brazilian competition law is guided by the constitutional principles of free competition, freedom of initiative, the social role of property, consumer protection, and prevention of the abuse of economic power.[99] PL 2768, however, would add two exogenous elements to these relatively mainstream antitrust goals: a reduction in regional and social inequality and increased social participation in matters of public interest.[100]

Other DCRs—like the UK’s or Australia’s prospective efforts to regulate digital platforms—also combine “fairness” goals with consumer welfare and competition considerations.[101] India’s DCB even offers an ex-post rationalization of competition law that brings it in line with the “fairness and contestability” goals of the new digital competition regulation.[102]

It is also questionable whether the protection of consumers and business users under DCRs accords with antitrust notions of “consumer welfare.” It should be noted that competition law, unlike consumer-protection law, protects consumers only indirectly, through the suppression of anticompetitive practices that may affect them through increased prices or decreased quality. Thus, antitrust law is generally uninterested in a company’s deceptive practices, unless they stem directly from a competitive restraint or the misuse of market power.[103] In this scenario, market power acts as a filter to determine where a company’s conduct can be corrected by market forces, and where intervention may be necessary.[104]

By contrast, most DCRs that claim to protect consumers[105] seek to do so through mandates of increased transparency, explicit consent, choice screens, and the like, imposed independently of market power.[106] While some of the focus on consumers remains (at least nominally), the ways in which DCRs protect consumers are more in line with consumer-protection law than competition law.

As for the protection of business users, according to some interpretations, antitrust law protects both consumers and other trading parties (customers).[107] This could, in principle, also include “business users.” Unlike digital competition regulation, however, antitrust law does not generally protect a predetermined group of businesses such that, for example, business users of online platforms would be afforded special protection. Any trading party—regardless of size, industry, or position in the supply chain, and whether a small developer or a large online platform—could theoretically benefit from the protection afforded by antitrust law to those harmed by the misuse of market power.

D. Partial Conclusion: When Failed Antitrust Doctrine Becomes ‘Groundbreaking’ New Regulation

While digital competition regulation’s approach to competition diverges from that of mainstream competition law, and may even be anathema to it, the arguments it espouses are not new. To the contrary, digital competition regulation, in many ways, codifies ideas that have been repeatedly tried and spurned by competition law.

The fountainhead of these ideas is that size alone should be the determining factor for antitrust action and liability.[108] On this historically recurring view—which is championed today most fervently by American “neo-Brandeisians” and European “ordoliberals”—big business inherently harms smaller companies, consumers, and democracy. It is therefore the role of antitrust law to combat this pernicious influence through structural remedies, merger control, and other interventions intended to disperse economic power.[109]

In a similar vein, digital competition regulation targets companies that, a priori, have little in common. Digital competition regulation applies to information-technology firms that specialize in online advertising, such as Google and Meta, but also to electronics companies that focus on hardware, such as Apple.[110] It covers voice assistants and social media, which are vastly different products. Cloud computing, another “core platform service,” is arguably not even a platform; yet, it was included in the DMA at the 11th hour.[111] In the end, what these “gatekeepers” have in common is that they all enjoy significant turnover, large user bases, are disruptors of legacy industries (such as, for example, news media), and are—possibly for these precise reasons—politically convenient targets.[112]

One corollary of this school of thought is that antitrust law should abandon (or, at least, drastically reduce) its reliance on the consumer-welfare standard as the lodestar of competition.[113] The law’s fixation on consumer welfare, the argument goes, has turned a blind eye to rampant economic concentration and to any form of abuse or exploitation that does not result in decreased output or higher prices.[114] Instead of this “myopic” focus on economic efficiency, proponents argue, antitrust law should strive to uphold a pluralistic market structure, which necessarily implies protecting companies from more efficient competitors.[115] This, they claim, was the Sherman Act’s original intent, which was subverted, in time, by the Chicago School’s emphasis on economic efficiency.[116]

Shunning consumer welfare also has implications for the role of market power in antitrust analysis. At the most fundamental level, competition law is concerned with controlling market power.[117] However, on the neo-Brandeisian view, antitrust’s historical concern with delineating efficient and inefficient market exit gives way to the unitary goal of controlling size and maintaining a certain market structure, regardless of companies’ ability to restrict competition and profitably raise prices.[118] This disenfranchises market power or, at the very least, redefines it as synonymous with size and market concentration.[119] This is familiar ground for digital competition regulation, which, as we have seen, generally does not target companies with market power, but companies with a certain size and “economic significance.”

Throughout antitrust law’s storied history, it has often been argued that antitrust law pursues, or should pursue, a plurality of goals and values.[120] Today, these arguments posit that antitrust law must look beyond a “narrow focus” on consumer welfare,[121] which is still enshrined as the dominant paradigm in most jurisdictions. Some of the alternative goals posited to inform the adjudication of competition-law cases include, but are not limited to, democracy, protection of competitors (especially SMEs), pluralism, social participation, combating undue corporate size, and equality. In turn, many of these goals are mentioned in digital competition regulation. In Section III, we argue that wealth redistribution (equality), the protection of competitors, and combatting size are truly shared goals of DCRs.

Digital competition regulation is a bridge between competition law and regulation. That bridge is built on old but persistent ideas that have found limited success in antitrust law and that have largely been precluded by decades of case-law and the progressively mounting exigencies of robust, effects-based economic analysis.[122] It is therefore perhaps unsurprising that digital competition regulation spurns both in favor or new legislation and per-se rules.

Its break with antitrust law, however, is not total, and was arguably never intended to be. Instead, digital competition regulation revises modern competition law to bring it in line with the regulatory philosophy it seeks to resuscitate, selectively plucking those bits and pieces that conform to that vision, and discarding those that do not.

The partial continuity between competition law and digital competition regulation is not merely hypothetical, either. Consider the example of the DMA. According to EU Commissioner of Competition Margrethe Vestager, “the Digital Markets Act is very different to antitrust enforcement under Article 102 TFEU. First, the DMA is not competition law. Its legal basis is Article 114 TFEU. Therefore, it pursues objectives pertaining to the internal market.”[123]

But observe that the DMA covers conduct identical to that which the Commission has pursued under EU competition law. For instance, Google Shopping is a self-preferencing case that would fall under Article 6(5) DMA.[124] Cases AT.40462 and AT.40703, which related to Amazon’s use of nonpublic trader data when competing on Marketplace, and its supposed bias when awarding the “Buy Box,” would now be caught by Articles 6(2) and 6(5) DMA.[125] The fine issued against Apple for its anti-steering provisions, which would be prohibited by Article 5(4) DMA, mere days before the law’s entry into force, is another case in point.[126]

This casts doubt on the assertion that the DMA and EU competition law are two distinctly different regimes. It suggests instead that the DMA is simply a more stringent, targeted, and enforcer-friendly form of competition regulation, intended specifically to cover certain products, certain companies, and certain markets. Or, as some have put it, “the DMA is just antitrust law in disguise.”[127] Indeed, Australia’s ACCC may have said the quiet part out loud when it contended that its proposed DCR would be both a “compliment to, and an expansion of, existing competition rules.”[128]

Or consider the example of India. In India, digital competition regulation would also be implemented though separate legislation. According to a 2023 report of the Standing Committee on Finance, a “Digital Competition Act”[129] is needed to prevent monopolistic outcomes and anticompetitive practices in “digital markets,” which are thought to differ in important ways from “traditional” markets:

India’s competition law must be enhanced so that it can meet the requirements of restraining anti-competitive behaviours in the digital markets. To that end, it is also necessary to strengthen the Competition Commission of India to take on the new responsibilities. India needs to enhance its competition law to address the unique needs of digital markets. Unlike traditional markets, the economic drivers that are rampant in digital markets quickly result in a few massive players dominating vast swathes of the digital ecosystem.[130]

But it seems that, based on the relevant Report of the Standing Committee on Finance, this new regime would be inspired by goals similar to Indian competition law. One important difference is that, according to Indian ministers, the new Digital Competition Act would adopt a “whole government approach.”[131] Pursuant to the  Digital Competition Act, the government would have the power to override any decisions taken by the Competition Commission of India on public-policy grounds. This, again, underscores the “subtle” but significant differences between the competition regimes that would essentially apply in parallel to digital platforms and all other companies, as India’s Competition Act does not otherwise adopt a “whole government approach” to anticompetitive conduct.[132]

A separate question, beyond the scope of this paper, is whether the sui generis logic of digital competition regulation will eventually be transferred to standard competition law. Now that they have the weight of the law—in jurisdictions like Turkey and Germany, even formally incorporated into competition law—ideas that have hitherto remained at the fringes of mainstream competition law may start to be seen as more respectable. Further, the goals of competition law may even be reconfigured, a posteriori, in accordance with the rationale of digital competition regulation.

This possibility cannot be discarded as entirely hypothetical. For example, Andreas Mundt recently remarked that competition law “has always been about fairness and contestability,”[133] thus de facto extrapolating the logic of the DMA’s sector-specific competition regulation to all competition law.

When populist arguments about equality, fairness, and “anti-bigness” previously have reared their head in competition law, they have largely (though not entirely) failed. It is thus somewhat ironic that such ideas should now be spurred by passage of the DMA, a regulation that is—by its own terms—not even a competition law, sensu proprio.

III. The Real Goals of Digital Competition Regulation

Notwithstanding certain differences, DCRs are largely animated by a common narrative and seek to achieve, on the whole, similar goals. At the most basic level, DCRs seek to tip the balance of power away from digital platforms (see Section IIA); to scatter rents, especially toward app developers and complementors; and to make it easier for potential competitors to contest incumbents’ positions. In this context, traditional antitrust conceptions of competition and consumer welfare are afforded, at best, a ceremonial role.

A. Redistributing Rents Among Firms

Despite the apparent discrepancies identified in Section I, it becomes evident on closer examination that DCRs share a common set of assumptions, rationales, and goals. The first of these goals is direct rent redistribution among firms.

The central conceit of DCRs is that asymmetrical power relations between digital platforms and virtually everyone else produce “unfair” outcomes where, in a zero-sum game, “big tech” gets a big slice of the piece of the pie at the expense of every other stakeholder.[134] Thus, DCRs must step in to reallocate rents across the supply chain, so that other actors receive a share of benefits in line with regulators’ understanding of what constitutes a “fair” distributive outcome.

Indeed, as the OECD has noted, the concept of “fairness” is strongly tied to redistribution.[135] As Pablo Ibanez Colomo wrote of the then-draft DMA: “the proposal is crafted to grant substantial leeway to restructure digital markets and re-allocate rents.”[136] This notion is accepted even by DCR proponents, who have admitted that “the regime is not designed to regulate infrastructure monopolies, but rather to create competition as well as to redistribute some rents.”[137]

As to whom should benefit principally from such interventions, the answer varies across jurisdictions, and may depend on the effectiveness of various groups’ rent-seeking efforts, or the particular country’s political priorities.[138] In countries like Korea and South Africa, there has been an explicit emphasis on SMEs, with attempts made to “equalize” their bargaining position vis-à-vis large digital platforms.[139] Other jurisdictions, such as the EU, emphasize competitors (see Section IIIB) and companies that “depend” on the digital platform to do business—such as, e.g., app developers and complementors that “depend” on access to users through iOS; logistics operators that “depend” on Amazon to reach customers; and shops that “depend” on Google for exposure.[140] Granted, these companies may also be SMEs, but they need necessarily not be.[141] In fact, many of the DMA’s expected beneficiaries, including Spotify,, Epic, and Yelp,[142] are not small companies at all.[143]

Elsewhere, it is explicitly recognized that DCRs seek to abet the market position of national companies. Prior to the DMA’s adoption, many leading European politicians touted the act’s text as a protectionist industrial-policy tool that would hinder U.S. firms to the benefit of European rivals. As French Minister of the Economy Bruno Le Maire stated:

Digital giants are not just nice companies with whom we need to cooperate, they are rivals, rivals of the states that do not respect our economic rules, which must therefore be regulated…. There is no political sovereignty without technological sovereignty. You cannot claim sovereignty if your 5G networks are Chinese, if your satellites are American, if your launchers are Russian and if all the products are imported from outside.[144]

This logic dovetails neatly with the EU’s broader push for digital and technology sovereignty, a strategy intended to reduce the continent’s dependence on technologies that originate abroad. This strategy has already been institutionalized at different levels of EU digital and industrial policy.[145] In fact, the European Parliament’s 2020 briefing on “Digital Sovereignty for Europe” explicitly anticipated an ex-ante regulatory regime similar to the DMA as a central piece of that puzzle.[146]

The fact that no European companies were designated as gatekeepers lends credence to theories about the DMA’s protectionist origins.[147] But while protectionism is not explicitly embedded in EU law, it likely will be in South Africa’s digital competition regulation. The understanding of “free competition” that underpins the SACC’s DCR proposal hinges on forcing large, foreign digital platforms to elevate local competitors and complementors, even if it means granting them unique advantages.[148] Moreover, unlike other DCRs, SACC’s proposal explicitly notes that its proposed remedies are designed to redistribute wealth from the targeted digital companies or downstream business users toward certain social groups—namely, South African companies, historically disadvantaged peoples (“HDPs”), and SMEs, especially those owned by HDPs.

For instance, to address the “unfair” advantage enjoyed by larger competitors who are displayed more prominently in Google’s search results and are able to invest in search-engine optimization,[149] the SACC would oblige Google to introduce “new platform sites unit (or carousel) to display smaller SA platforms relevant to the search (e.g., travel platforms in a travel search) for free and augment organic search results with a content-rich display.”[150] In addition, Google would be forced to add a South African flag identifier and South African platform filter to “aid consumers to easily identify and support local platforms in competition to global ones.”[151]

The SACC’s proposal is chock full of similar, blatantly redistributive policies that—despite being formally integrated into competition law—flip its logic on its head by requiring distortions of competition in order to (putatively) preserve undistorted competition. Thus, the SACC’s proposal would require gatekeepers to give free credit to South African SMEs; offer promotional rebates; waive fees; provide direct funding for the identification, onboarding, promotion, and growth of SMEs owned by HDPs; force app stores to have a “local curation of apps” aimed at circumventing “automated curation based on sales and downloads for the SA storefronts, and some geo-relevance criteria”; and ban both volume-based discounts that benefit larger companies (relative to SMEs) and promotions that would otherwise “decimate” local competitors.[152]

One reading is that the SACC’s report deviates from the “standard” in digital competition regulation. Another is that the SACC is simply more forthright about accomplishing the goals implicit in the DMA. Indeed, the SACC targets the same types of digital platforms as the DMA, includes many of the same prohibitions and obligations (e.g., self-preferencing, interoperability, cross-use of data, price parity clauses), and openly references the DMA.[153]

In conclusion, despite some distributional differences, the overarching implication of digital competition regulation is generally the same: competitors and business-users (e.g., app store and app developers in the case of Apple’s iOS; sellers and logistics operators in the case of Amazon’s marketplace; competing search and service providers in the case of Google search) should be propped up by gatekeepers. These parties, DCR proponents argue, should get more and easier access to the platforms, feature more prominently therein, be entitled to a larger slice of the transactions facilitated by those platforms,[154] and pay gatekeepers less (or nothing at all).

In some countries, the beneficiaries are intended to be primarily national companies or SMEs. Ultimately, like many other questions surrounding digital competition regulation, the question of cui bono—who benefits?—is not an economic, but a political one, hinging on whatever parties lawmakers want to favor, and at the expense of whatever parties they wish to disfavor.[155] The bottom line, however, goes back to the same, simple idea: gatekeepers should get less, and other businesses should get more.

Consider, for example, the reaction to Apple’s DMA-compliance plan.[156] Most of the backlash concerned the (frustrated) expectations that Apple would, as a result of the obligations imposed by the DMA, take a smaller cut from in-app payments and paid downloads on its platform.[157] If one strips away the rhetoric, the reaction was not about competitive bottlenecks, competition, fairness, contestability, or any other such lofty ambitions, but about the very simple arithmetic of rent seeking, whereby those who invest in lobbying legislators expect a return on their investments.[158]

Or consider the UK’s DMCC. The DMCC includes a “final offer mechanism” that the CMA can use in some cases where a conduct requirement relating to fair and reasonable payment has been breached, and where the CMA considers other powers would not resolve the breach within a reasonable time period.[159] A key aspect of the mechanism is that the two parties to a transaction (at least one of them being a gatekeeper, or a firm with “strategic market status”) submit suggested payment terms for the transaction. The CMA then decides between the two offers, with no option to take a third or intermediate course.

Under the DMCC, however, this mechanism could be applied to any SMS business relationship with third parties. While, as the British government says, this does not involve “direct price setting,”[160] it does mean the CMA would be empowered to decide between two alternative offers and, thus, will determine the distribution of revenues between gatekeepers and, potentially, any third party.[161]

B. Facilitating Competitors and the Duality of Contestability

DCRs share a common aim not just to protect business users, but to benefit competitors directly.[162] In contrast with modern notions of competition law, which readily accept that protecting competition often forces less-efficient competitors to depart the market,[163] DCRs are chiefly concerned with ensuring that even inferior competitors enter or remain on the market. Simply put: if a designated digital platform acts “unfairly,” its actions are illegal. But it is generally—save limited exceptions—irrelevant whether its behavior is efficient or if it enhances consumer welfare. These are the very questions that typically serve to delineate pro-competitive from anti-competitive conduct in the context of competition law (and competition on the merits from anti-competitive conduct).[164]

This makes sense if one recognizes that digital competition regulation and competition law have fundamentally different goals: the former seeks to make it easier for nonincumbent digital platforms to succeed and stay on the market, regardless of the costs either to consumers or to the regulated platforms; the latter seeks to protect competition to the ultimate benefit of consumers, which often implies (and requires) weeding out laggard competitors (see Section II).[165]

As former Federal Trade Commission (“FTC”) Commissioner Maureen Ohlhausen has observed:

Some recent legislative and regulatory proposals appear to be in tension with this basic premise. Rather than focusing on protection of competition itself, they appear to impose requirements on some companies designed specifically to facilitate their competitors, including those competitors that may have fallen behind precisely because they had not made the same investments in technology, innovation or product offerings. For example, the Digital Markets Act (DMA) would force a ‘gatekeeper’ company to provide business users of its service, as well as those who provide complementary services, access to and interoperability with the same operating system, hardware, or software features that are available to or used by the gatekeeper. While this would restrain gatekeepers and presumably facilitate the interests of the gatekeeper’s rivals, it is not clear how this would protect consumers, as opposed to competitors.[166]

That is because the two kinds of legislation pursue mutually exclusive goals. DCRs aim to facilitate competitors by making covered digital markets more “contestable.” The assumption is that, because consumers consistently use certain dominant platforms, “digital markets” must not contestable, or not sufficiently contestable.[167] The putative reason for this low level of contestability allegedly lies in certain advantages that have accrued to incumbent platforms and that competitors purportedly cannot reasonably replicate, such as network effects, data accumulation, and data-driven economies of scale. Consumer cognitive biases and lock-in are asserted as further cementing incumbents’ positions. Because digital markets are also said to be “winner-takes-all,” the corollary is that currently dominant firms will remain dominant unless regulators intercede swiftly and decisively to bolster contestability.

DCRs seek to achieve this state of contestability by “equalizing” the positions of gatekeepers and competitors in two interconnected ways: by diminishing incumbents’ advantages and by forcing them to share some of those advantages with competitors. Making digital markets more contestable therefore requires undercutting the benefits of network effects and advantages enjoyed by “data-rich” incumbents,[168] not because data harvesting is inherently bad or because incumbents have acquired such data illegally or through deceit; but because it makes it hard for other firms to compete. Contestability—understood as other firms’ ability to challenge incumbent digital platforms’ positions—is therefore put forward as a goal in itself, regardless of those challengers’ relative efficiency or what effects the contestability-enhancing obligations have on consumers (see Section IIID).

It is not hard to see how the deontological focus on contestability is narrowly connected to the protection of competitors. Many, if not most, of the obligations and prohibitions in DCRs are best understood as attempts to improve contestability by facilitating competitors, while stifling incumbents. For instance, data-sharing obligations—such as those included in Article 19a of the German Competition Act and Art.6(j) DMA—make it harder for incumbents to accumulate data, while also forcing them to share the data they harvest with competitors. The objective is clearly not to tackle data harvesting because it is noxious, but to disperse users and data across smaller competitors and thereby make it easier for those competitors to stay on the market and contest the incumbents’ position.

Similarly, so-called “self-preferencing” provisions seek to prohibit designated companies from preferencing their own products’ position ahead of that granted to competitors, even if consumers ultimately benefit from such positioning (e.g., because the incumbent’s package is more convenient).[169]

Interoperability obligations likewise require incumbents to make their products and services compatible with those offered by competitors, often with very limited scope for affirmative defenses grounded solely in objective security and privacy considerations. The logic is that interoperability reduces switching costs and allows competitors to attract more easily the previously “locked-in” users.

There are also prohibitions on the use of data generated by a platform’s business users, which essentially ignore the potentially pro-competitive cost reductions and product improvements that may result from the cumulative use of such data. Instead, the goal is to preclude gatekeepers from outperforming—including through more vigorous competition, such as better products or more relevant offers—the third parties who have generated such data on gatekeepers’ platforms.

Ultimately, what all these provisions have in common is that they primarily seek to increase the number of competitors on the market and to enhance their ability to gain market share at the incumbent’s expense, regardless of the effects on the quality of competition, end products, or concerns related to free-riding on incumbents’ legitimate business investments, superior management decisions, or product design (all of which are considerations that would be cognizable under antitrust law—on which, see Section II).[170] “Contestability” in digital competition regulation thus means an erosion, through regulatory means, of incumbents’ competitive advantages, regardless of how those competitive advantages have been achieved.

Digital competition regulation is therefore inherently competitor-oriented, regardless of its stated goals, and this focus is often enshrined in law in other, subtler ways. For instance, the DMCC explicitly invites potential or actual competitors to provide testimony to the CMA before it imposes or revokes a conduct requirement. It requires the CMA to initiate consultations on the imposition or removal of such conduct requirements (S. 24), as well as on “procompetitive interventions” (S. 48).

The proposed ACCESS Act in the United States likewise gives competitors a privileged seat at the table.[171] According to Sec.4(e) of the bill, if a covered platform wishes to make any changes to its interoperability interface, it must ask the FTC for permission. In deciding the question, the FTC is to consult with a “technical committee” formed by, among others, representatives of businesses that utilize or compete with the covered platform.[172] Representatives of the covered platform also would sit on the technical committee, but have no vote.[173]

Importantly, the FTC’s decision in these matters would be dependent on whether competitors’ interests have been harmed—i.e., “that the change is not being made with the purpose or effect of unreasonably denying access or undermining interoperability for competing businesses or potential competing businesses.”[174] This is tantamount to asking competitors for permission to make product-design decisions on a company’s own platform, based on the vested interests of those competitors.

Finally, less than a month after the DMA’s entry into force, the European Commission launched investigations into four gatekeepers for noncompliance. Critical to the Commission’s decision to investigate these companies was feedback received from stakeholders,[175] most of whom are competing firms who hoped to benefit from its provisions.

C. ‘Levelling Down’ Gatekeepers

There are two ways to promote equality: one is to lift up Party A, the other is to drag down Party B.[176] DCRs typically do both, all in service of suppressing the presumably illegitimate levels of gatekeeper power. In the previous subsection, we argued that DCRs facilitate competitors. But it is just as important to note that they also—sometimes concomitantly and sometimes separately—seek to worsen gatekeepers’ competitive position in at least three ways: by imposing costs on gatekeepers that are not borne by competitors, by negating their ability to capitalize on key investments, and by facilitating free riding by third parties on those investments.

For example, prohibitions on the use of nonpublic third-party data benefit competitors, but they also negate the massive investments made by incumbents to harvest that data. They preclude gatekeepers from monetizing the investments made in their platforms by, say, using that data to improve their own products and product lineup in response to new information about users’ changing tastes. This directly undermines gatekeepers’ competitive position, which depends on their ability to improve and adapt their products (see Section IIID). But this is a feature, not a bug, of DCRs. DCRs seek to dissipate gatekeepers’ “power,” where power does not necessarily mean “market power,” but simply their ability to compete effectively. For example, even if allowing gatekeepers to use nonpublic data would improve their products, to consumers’ ultimate benefit, it would also “harm” competitors in the sense that it would make it harder for them to compete with the gatekeeper. In other words, it would not be anticompetitive, but it would be “unfair.” By contrast, in the moral lexicon of digital competition regulation, free riding and effectively expropriating gatekeepers’ investments is not considered “unfair.”

Nor are data-sharing obligations. Data-sharing obligations clearly impose costs on gatekeepers: tracking and sharing data is anything but free. Nonetheless, gatekeepers are expected to aid and subsidize competitors and third parties at little or no cost,[177] thereby diminishing their competitive position and dissipating their resources (and investments) for the benefit of another group.

Similar arguments can be made about the other prohibitions and obligations that form part of the standard DCR package. Sideloading mandates allow third parties to free ride on gatekeepers’ investments in developing popular and functioning operating systems.[178] Insofar as they worsen gatekeepers’ ability to curate content and monitor safety and privacy risks, they also deprecate platforms’ overall quality and integrity, thereby potentially harming even the very companies they seek to aid.[179] Sideloading and interoperability mandates also essentially turn closed platforms into open ones (or, at the very least, they bring the two much closer together), thus forcing closed platforms to forfeit their competitive benefits relative to the primary alternatives.[180]

Antitrust law is unequivocal in its preference for inter-brand over intra-brand competition.[181] But under digital competition regulation, this principle gives way to a de-facto harmonization toward the model preferred by regulators—i.e., the one that makes every successful platform as open and accessible to competitors as possible, regardless of tradeoffs.

For example, self-preferencing prohibitions destroy one of the primary incentives for (and benefits of) vertical integration, which is the ability to prioritize a company’s own upstream or downstream products.[182] Such prohibitions also allow third parties that without the foresight to invest in a platform to accrue the same benefits as those that have. They also limit a platform’s ability to offer goods whose quality and delivery it can more readily guarantee,[183] another bane for competitiveness recast as a desirable symptom of “fairness and contestability.”

Some DCRs are considerably more candid than others about their intent to hamstring gatekeepers. The Turkish E-Commerce Law includes some provisions that differ from the DMA, despite being evidently inspired by it.[184]  Among those provisions are regulations that would not only prevent electronic-commerce intermediary-service providers (“ECISPs”) from gaining significant market power, but also require that those already in a dominant position must lose this power.[185] Moreover:

Another example of atypical regulations envisaged in the E-Commerce Law is the limitations imposed on the advertising and discount budgets of large-scale ECISPs. Under Additional Article 2/3(a), the annual advertising budget of large-scale ECISPs is limited to the sum of 2% of the amount of 45 Billion Turkish Liras of the net transaction volume of the previous calendar year applied to the twelve-month average Consumer Price Index change rate for the same calendar year and 0.03% of the amount above 45 Billion Turkish Liras. This limit constitutes the total advertising budget for all ECISPs within the same economic unit and for all ECSPs operating in the e-commerce marketplace within the same economic unity.[186]

According to Kadir Bas and Kerem Cen Sanli:

The amended E-Commerce Law goes beyond prohibiting gatekeepers’ behavior that restricts fair and effective competition, and introduces provisions that prevent undertakings in the e-commerce sector from gaining market power through organic internal growth without distorting competition or committing any unfair practices. In this context, the E-Commerce Law gradually imposes obligations and restrictions on undertakings based on their transaction volumes, which are not directly related to market power, and some restrictions significantly limiting the ability to compete are imposed on all undertakings in the sector. When those features of the E-Commerce Law are evaluated together, it can be said that the legislator aims to structurally design the competition conditions and business models in the Turkish e-commerce sector.[187]

Bas and Sanli argue that this distinguishes the E-Commerce Directive from the DMA. While it technically true that the DMA does not impose measures that would, e.g., directly limit a firm’s advertising expenditure or tax additional transactions beyond a certain threshold, it does nevertheless “level down” gatekeepers’ ability to compete and grow organically in other ways. On this view, the Turkish E-Commerce Directive takes the DMA’s logic to its natural conclusion and, much like the SACC’s proposal, simply says the quiet part out loud.

Similarly, the UK’s DMCC is designed to foreclose activities that would otherwise bolster gatekeepers’ “strategic significance.”[188] A company with strategic significance is defined as one that fulfills one or several of the following conditions: has achieved significant size or scale; is used by a significant number of other undertakings in carrying out their business; has a position that allows it to determine or substantially influence the ways in which other undertakings conduct themselves; or is in a position to extend its market power to different activities. At least three of these conditions (the first three) can easily result from organic growth or procompetitive behavior. There are many investments and innovations that would, if permitted, benefit consumers—either immediately or over the longer term—but which may enhance a platform’s “strategic significance,” as defined by the DMCC.[189] Indeed, improving a firm’s products and thereby increasing its sales will often naturally lead to increased size or scale.

The inverse is also true: product improvements, innovation, and efficiencies can result from size or scale.[190] This is especially relevant in the context of digital platforms, where a product’s attractiveness often comes precisely from its size and scope. In two-sided markets like digital platforms, product quality often derives from the direct and indirect network effects that result from adding an additional user to the network. In other words, the more consumers use a product or service, the more valuable that product or service becomes to consumers on both sides of the platform.[191] Capping scale and size thus curtails one of the primary (if not the main) spurs of digital platforms’ growth and competitiveness.

Which, of course, arguably was the intent behind DCRs all along. In this context, some DCRs contain provisions that allow enforcers to impose a moratorium on mergers and acquisitions involving a gatekeeper, even where such concentrations would not ordinarily fall within the scope of merger-control rules.[192]

This degree of animosity may seem puzzling.[193] but one’s priors matter quite a bit here. If one accepts, tout court, the dystopian narrative that casts digital platforms as uniquely powerful, unfair, and abusive (see Section IIA),[194] this punitive approach[195] is understandable and, in a sense, even required.

D. Consumers as an Afterthought

DCRs affect wealth transfers from gatekeepers to other firms (see Section IIIA). But DCRs also affect—or, at least, tacitly accept—wealth transfers from consumers to other firms. First, DCRs generally do not require a finding of consumer harm to intercede. Second, DCRs provide limited scope for efficiency defenses. Generally, only defenses rooted in objective privacy and security concerns are allowed,[196] and even these are subject to a high evidentiary burden.[197]

On the other hand, justifications related to product quality, curation, or that otherwise seek to preserve the consumers’ experience are not typically permitted. For example, the quality-of-life improvements that may come from better curation and selection of apps in a closed platform (e.g., one that does not allow for the sideloading of apps or third-party app stores) are not relevant under the DMA, nor is any other dimension of consumer welfare, including price, quality, aesthetics, or curation. The Turkish DCR goes even further than the DMA, in that does not appear to allow for any exemptions (even on the basis of safety and privacy).[198] The SACC’s proposal likewise does not appear to provide scope for affirmative defenses.

In Australia, the DPI states that exemptions should be put in place to mitigate “unintended consequences.” This could, in principle, include consumer-welfare considerations, but the DPI’s explicit reference to the DMA[199] and various public statements by the ACCC suggest that this is unlikely to be the case. The ACCC said in its Fifth Interim Report that “[t]he drafting of obligations should consider any justifiable reasons for the conduct (such as necessary and proportionate privacy or security justifications).”[200]

The narrow and strict exceptions to the above DCRs confirm the downgraded status of consumer welfare in digital competition regulation (vis-à-vis competition law). German Article 19a, for example, allows for exemptions where there is an “objective justification.”[201] But unlike in every other instance under the German Competition Act, Article 19a reverses the burden of proof and requires the gatekeeper, not the Bundeskartellamt, to prove that the prohibited conduct is objectively justified.

In a similar vein, the AICOA bill in the United States would only require that the plaintiff show “material harm to competition” in provisions related to self-preferencing and service discrimination provisions.[202] The remaining provisions do not contain affirmative-effects requirements, but would not apply if the defendant shows a lack of “material harm to competition.” In other words, the burden of proof is shifted from the plaintiff to the defendant — who must prove a negative.[203]

The UK’s DMCC allows for a “countervailing benefits exception,”[204] which would apply when behavior that breaches a conduct requirement is found to provide sufficient other benefits to consumers without making effective competition impossible, and is “indispensable and proportionate” (s. 29(2)(c)) to the achievement of the benefit.[205] Again, this sets a high bar to clear.[206] For example, a limitation on interoperability might provide a benefit to user security and safety. But the exemption would apply only if the CMA were persuaded that this limitation was the only way to achieve such protection, which could be very hard or impossible to demonstrate.

The marginality of consumer welfare as a relevant policy factor is compounded in the UK by the fact that CMA decisions would only be subject to judicial review. Firms will thus be unable to challenge the authority’s factual assessments on questions such as indispensability and proportionality.[207] Even the chance that such a thing could be shown will be of little value to affected firms since the exemption can apply only once an investigation into a breach of a conduct requirement is underway.[208]

Finally, the Brazilian proposal states that costs, benefits, and proportionality should be observed when establishing an obligation under Art.10, [209] although there is no telling what this would mean in practice, or whether it encompasses consumer welfare (Arts. 10 and 11 of PL 2768 do not mention consumer welfare).[210]

The broader question, however, is whether a pro-consumer approach is even compatible with the overarching goals of digital competition regulation. A corollary of facilitating competitors and levelling down gatekeepers is that successful companies and their products are made worse—often at consumers’ expense. For instance, choice screens may facilitate competitors, but at the expense of the user experience, in terms of the time taken to make such choices. Not integrating products might give a leg up to competing services, but consumers might resent the diminished functionality.[211] Interoperability may similarly reduce the benefits an incumbent enjoys from network effects, but users may prefer the improved safety, privacy, and curation that typically comes with closed or semi-closed “walled-garden” ecosystems, like Apple’s iOS.[212]

In sum, proponents of DCRs appear to see losses in consumer welfare as a valid and potentially even desirable tradeoff for competitors’ increased ability to contest the incumbents’ position, as well as for wealth transfers across the supply chain that are seen as inherently just, equitable, and fair.

E. Partial Conclusion: The Perils of Redistributive and Protectionist Competition Regulation

While competition enforcement can affect the allocation of rents among firms, this is generally not the goal of competition policy. The only rent redistribution that is, in principle, relevant in competition law is the one between companies that misuse their market power and consumers (or, in some cases, trading parties). But the overarching goal is to prevent distortions of competition that result in deadweight loss and transfer consumer surplus to the monopolist, not to allocate resources among a set of hand-picked “big” firms and their smaller rivals in way that legislators or regulators consider “fair.” It is the market, not the government, that determines what is “fair.” Competition laws exist to preserve, not to rewrite, that outcome.

Indeed, even some advocates of incorporating political goals into antitrust law, such as Robert Pitofsky, have opposed using the law to protect small businesses and redistribute income to achieve social goals.[213] This is for good reason. Rent redistribution among firms entails significant risks of judicial error and rent seeking. Regulators may require firms to supply their services at inefficiently low prices that are not mutually advantageous, which may in turn diminish those firms’ incentives to invest and innovate.

DCR backers may retort that rent redistribution is the goal of most natural-monopoly regulations (such as those in the telecommunications and energy-distribution industries), which generally rely on both price regulation and access regimes to favor downstream firms and (ultimately) consumers.[214] But digital markets tend to be very different to those traditionally subject to price regulation and access regimes. And even in those industries, price regulation and access regimes raise many difficulties—such as identifying appropriate price/cost ratios and fleshing out the nonprice aspects of the goods/services or regulated firms.

Those difficulties are compounded in the fast-moving digital space, where innovation cycles are faster and yesterday’s prices and other nonprice factors may no longer be relevant today.[215] In short, rent redistribution is difficult to do well in traditional natural-monopoly settings, and may be impossible to do without judicial error in the digital world.

Assuming that such redistribution was to take place, what would a fair redistribution entail? “Fairness” is subjective and, as such, in the eye of the beholder.[216] Moreover, reasonable people may and often do disagree on what is and is not fair. What is “unfair” for the app distributor who pays a commission to use in-app payments may seem “fair” to the owner of the operating system and the app store that makes significant investments to maintain them.[217] Because fairness is such an inherently elusive concept,[218] DCRs ultimately define “fair” and “unfair” by induction—i.e., from the bottom up, in a “you know it when you see it” approach that is difficult to square with any cogent normative theory or limiting principle.[219]

For example, in response to claims that Apple must allow competing in-app purchases (“IAPs”) on its App Store in order to make its 30% IAP fee more competitive (cheaper), Apple could allow independent payment processors to compete, charge an all-in fee of 30% when Apple’s IAP is chosen and, in order to recoup the costs of developing and running its App Store, charge app developers a reduced, mandatory per-transaction fee (on top of developers’ “competitive” payment to a third-party IAP provider) when Apple’s IAP is not used. Indeed, where such a remedy has already been imposed, that is exactly what Apple has done. In the Netherlands, where Apple is required by the Authority for Consumers and Markets (“ACM”) to uncouple distribution and payments for dating apps, Apple adopted the following policy:

Developers of dating apps who want to continue using Apple’s in-app purchase system may do so and no further action is needed…. Consistent with the ACM’s order, dating apps that . . . use a third-party in-app payment provider will pay Apple a commission on transactions. Apple will charge a 27% commission on the price paid by the user, net of value-added taxes. This is a reduced rate that excludes value related to payment processing and related activities.[220]

The company responded similarly to the DMA.[221] It is not hard to see the fundamental problem with this approach. If a 27% commission plus competitive payment-provider fee permits more “competition,” or is fairer, than complete exclusion of third-party providers, then surely a 26% fee would permit even more competition, or be even fairer. And a 25% fee fairer still. Such a hypothetical exercise logically ends only where a self-interested competitor or customer wants it to end, and is virtually impossible to measure.[222]

Even if it were possible, it would entail precisely the kind of price management that antitrust law has long rejected as being at loggerheads with a free market.[223] Without a measurable market failure, what is the frontier of fairness? When does a complaint stop being a competition or gatekeeper issue and become a private dispute about wanting to pay less—or nothing—for a service?[224]

Another obvious problem with facilitating competitors and levelling down gatekeepers is that it discourages investment, innovation, and competition on the merits. Having been encouraged to bring new, innovative products to market and compete for consumers’ business, successful companies—now branded with the “gatekeeper” epithet—are subject to punitive regulation.[225] The benefits that they have legitimately and arduously acquired are dissipated across the supply chain and their competitors, who lacked the foresight and business acumen to make the same or similar investments, are rewarded for their sluggishness.[226] This stifles the mechanisms that propel competition. As Justice Learned Hand observed almost 80 years ago, “the successful competitor, having been urged to compete, must not be turned upon when he wins.”[227] There is no reason why digital competition regulation should be impervious to that logic.

The abrupt shift from competition law to digital competition regulation also sends investors the wrong message by creating commitment issues.

Commitment issues arise where a government commits itself in one period to behaving in certain ways in the future but, when it comes to a future point in time, reneges on the earlier commitment to reflect its preferences at that later point in time.[228]

For example, today’s gatekeepers have made significant investments in data processing, vertical integration, scaling, and building ecosystems. Many of these investments are sunk, meaning that they can no longer be recouped or can be recouped only partially. With the various DCRs’ entry into force, however, gatekeepers can no longer fully utilize those investments. For instance, they cannot self-preference and thereby reap the full benefits of vertical integration;[229] they cannot use third-party data generated on the platforms they have built and in which they have invested; and they must now allow third-parties and competitors to free ride on those investments in a plethora of ways, ranging from allowing sideloading to mandated data sharing (see Section IIIB).

In dynamic contexts, time-inconsistency can obviously affect firms’ actions and decisions, leading to diminished investments.[230] From a less consequentialist and more deontological perspective, however, it is also questionable how “fair” (to use the mot du jour of digital competition regulation) it is to expropriate a company’s sunk-cost investments by abruptly shifting the regulatory goalposts under a new paradigm of competition regulation that essentially subverts the logic of the previous one, and penalizes what was until recently seen as permissible and even desirable conduct (see Section II).

IV. Conclusion: Beyond Digital Competition Regulation

Aldous Huxley once wrote that several excuses are always less convincing than one.[231] His point was that multiple justifications may often conceal the fact that none of them are entirely convincing in their own right. This maxim aptly captures the doubts that persist surrounding DCRs.

On the surface, DCRs pursue a variety of sometimes overlapping, sometimes contradictory, and sometimes disparate goals and objectives (Section I). Some of these goals and objectives hearken back to familiar antitrust themes, but it would be a mistake to treat DCRs as either an appendix to or extension of competition law (Section II). Unlike mainstream competition laws, DCRs address a moral, rather than an economic failure. DCRs emphasize notions of power that are foreign to competition law, essentially promulgating a new form of competition regulation that subverts the logic, rationale, and goals of the existing paradigm.

This approach to regulating competition may be new, but it is not original. To the contrary, the use of antitrust law to castigate concerns seen as “too big and powerful,” promote visions of social justice, and facilitate laggard competitors (even if it comes at the expense of competition, total, or consumer welfare) have been around since the inception of the Sherman Act.[232] In this sense, those who say that digital competition regulation is not competition law, and should therefore not be judged by competition-law standards, [233] are correct on the form but wrong on the substance.[234] They miss the bigger and more important point, which is that—regardless of its legal classification—digital competition regulation is competition regulation, just not the kind we have known for (at least) the last half a century.

The rationale that underpins digital competition regulation can be explained as follows. (Section III). Competition is no longer about consumer-facing efficiency, but about fairness, equality, and inclusivity. In practice, this means improving the lot of some, while “levelling down” others—regardless of the respective merits or demerits of each group (or their products). In this world, “contestability” is not so much the ability to displace an incumbent through competition on the merits, but very much the reverse. It is about lowering the competitive bar to increase the number of companies on the market—full stop. Whether or not this benefits consumers is largely immaterial, as the normative lodestars of digital competition regulation—fairness and contestability—are seen as having inherent and deontological value and thus removed from any utilitarian calculi of countervailing efficiencies (except, arguably, increases in competitors’ market shares).

Ultimately, however, this “new” approach to competition will have to reckon with the same problems and contradictions as the erstwhile antitrust paradigms from which it draws inspiration. The minefield of redistributive policies is likely to hamstring investment and innovation by targeted digital platforms significantly, while simultaneously encouraging rent-seeking behavior by self-interested third parties. Enabling competitors and purposefully harming incumbents also sends the message that equitable outcomes are preferred to excellence, which could encourage even more free riding and rent seeking and further stifle procompetitive conduct.

Finally, the irony is likely not lost on even the most casual observer that, for regulations so obsessed with “fairness,” it is fundamentally unfair for DCRs to syphon rents away from some companies and into others by fiat; and to force those companies to share their hard-earned competitive advantages with others who have not had the foresight or business acumen to make the same investments in a timely fashion.

It is difficult to overstate how big of a departure from competition law this approach to competition regulation is. But digital competition regulation is potentially more than just a digression from established principles in a relatively niche, technical field like competition law. Under the most expansive version of this interpretation, digital competition regulation heralds a new conception of the role and place of companies, markets, and the state in society.

In this “post-neoliberal” world,[235] the role of the state would not be to address market failures that harm consumers through discrete interventions guided by general, abstract, and reactive rules (such as competition law). Instead, it would be to intercede aggressively to redraw markets, redesign products, pick winners, and redistribute rents; indeed, to act as the ultimate ordering power of the economy.[236] It is not difficult to see how “old” competition-law principles, such as the consumer-welfare standard, effects-based analysis, and the procedural safeguards designed to cabin enforcers’ discretion could disrupt this system.

But for now, this remains just a hypothesis, and some would say—perhaps rightly so—an alarmist one. Yet there are unmistakable signs—as unmistakable as social science will allow—that a new paradigm of political philosophy is in the making: from the rehabilitation of once-maligned industrial policy to the rise of neo-Brandeisianism to recurrent proclamations of the “death of neoliberalism”[237] and its “idols,” including the consumer-welfare standard in antitrust law.[238]

Only time will tell if the digital competition regulation is truly sign of things to come, or merely a small but ultimately insignificant and abrupt dirigiste turn in the zig-zagging of antitrust history.[239] And only time will tell whether the approach to competition regulation promulgated by digital competition regulation will stay confined to the activities of a few large concerns and a handful of core platform services, or whether its logic will, in the end, seep into other spheres of policy and social life.

[1] Regulation (EU) 2022/1925 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 14 September 2022 on Contestable and Fair Markets in the Digital Sector and amending Directives (EU) 2019/1937 and (EU) 2020/1828, 2022 O.J. (L 265) 1 (hereinafter “Digital Markets Act” or “DMA”).

[2] “Digital competition regulation” or “DCR” will be used throughout to refer both to rules already in place and to rules currently under consideration. Context on legislative status will be given where available and appropriate.

[3] The terms “competition law” and “antitrust law” will be used interchangeably.

[4] See, e.g., Proposal for a Regulation of the European Parliament and of the Council Laying Down Harmonised Rules on Artificial Intelligence (Artificial Intelligence Act) and Amending Certain Union Legislative Acts, COM (2021) 206 final (Apr. 21, 2021).

[5] Regulation (EU) 2022/2065 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 19 October 2022 on a Single Market for Digital Services and Amending Directive 2000/31/EC, 2022, O.J. (L 277) 1 (hereinafter “Digital Services Act” or “DSA”).

[6] Regulation (EU) 2016/679 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 27 April 2016 on the Protection of Natural Persons with Regard to the Processing of Personal Data and on the Free Movement of Such Data, and Repealing Directive 95/46/EC, 2016 O.J. (L 119) 1 (hereinafter “General Data Protection Regulation” or “GDPR”).

[7] See, e.g., DMA, supra note 1.

[8] Press Release, Amendment of the German Act Against Restraints of Competition, Bundeskartellamt (Jan. 19, 2021),

[9] Id.

[10] The Act on the Protection of Competition No. 4054, Official Gazette (Dec. 13, 1994) (Turk.).

[11] See, E-Pazaryeri Platformari Sektor Incelemesi Nihai Raporu, Turkish Competition Authority (2022), available at (Turkish language only).

[12] Arguably, however, there is an increased emphasis on “business rights.”

[13] See, KFTC Proposes Ex-Ante Regulation of Platforms Under the “Platform Competition Promotion Act,Legal 500 (Jan. 4, 2024),

[14] Park So-Jeong & Lee Jung-Soo, S. Korea Speeds Up to Regulate Platform Giants Such as Google or Apple, The Chosun Daily (Feb. 4, 2024),

[15] Id.

[16] Monopoly Regulation and Fair Trade Act, Act. No, 3320, Dec. 31, 1980, amended by Act No. 18661, Dec. 28, 2021 (S. Kor.).

[17] Digital Markets Competition and Consumer Bill, 2023-24, H.L. Bill (53) (U.K.)  (hereinafter “DMCC”).

[18] See, e.g., id. at Part 1, S. 2, which defines companies with “strategic market status” as those with “substantial and entrenched market power.” By contrast, Recital 5 of the DMA states: “Although Articles 101 and 102 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU) apply to the conduct of gatekeepers, the scope of those provisions is limited to certain instances of market power, for example dominance on specific markets and of anti-competitive behaviour, and enforcement occurs ex post and requires an extensive investigation of often very complex facts on a case by case basis. Moreover, existing Union law does not address, or does not address effectively, the challenges to the effective functioning of the internal market posed by the conduct of gatekeepers that are not necessarily dominant in competition-law terms.”

[19] DMCC, supra note 18, at Part 1, Chapter 4.

[20] Press Release, New Bill to Stamp Out Unfair Practices and Promote Competition in Digital Markets, UK Competition and Markets Authority (Apr. 25, 2023),

[21] DMCC, supra note 18, at Part 4.

[22] Competition Act 1998 c.41 (U.K.).

[23] See Press Release, supra note 21.

[24] Id.

[25] Id. (emphasis added).

[26] The DMCC defines “digital activities” as those involving the purchase or sale of goods over the internet, or the provision of digital content. DMCC, Part 1, S.3.

[27] The provisions on digital markets are covered in Part 1 of the DMCC. DMCC, Part 2 covers competition.

[28] Digital Platform Services Inquiry 2020-25, Australian Competition and Consumer Commission, (last accessed May 13, 2024).

[29] Digital Platform Services Inquiry, Interim Report 5, Australian Competition and Consumer Commission (2022), at 5 (“The ACCC recommends a new regulatory regime to promote competition in digital platform services. The regime would introduce new competition measures for digital platforms.”). The term “digital regime” has also been used to describe the authority granted to the UK’s newly created Digital Markets Unit. See Moritz Godel, Mayumi Louguet, Paula Ramada, & Rhys Williams, Monitoring and Evaluating the Digital Markets Unit (DMU) and New Pro-Competition Regime for Digital Markets, London Economics (Jan. 2023), available at

[30] Digital Platform Services Inquiry, Interim Report 5, id. at 5.

[31] American Innovation and Choice Online Act, S. 2992, 117th Cong. (2022), (hereinafter “AICOA”).

[32] Open App Market Act, S. 2710, 117th Cong. (2022), (hereinafter “OAMA”).

[33] ACCESS Act of 2021, H.R. 3849, 117th Cong. (2021).

[34] AICOA, § 3.

[35] OAMA.

[36] Id.

[37] Press Release, Klobuchar, Grassley, Colleagues to Introduce Bipartisan Legislation to Rein in Big Tech, U.S. Sen. Amy Klobuchar (Oct. 14, 2021), The bill’s title is somewhat ambiguous, as it reads: “to provide that certain discriminatory conduct by covered platforms shall be unlawful, and for other purposes.” See AICOA, supra note 36.

[38] See id.

[39] Comments of the American Bar Association Antitrust Law Section Regarding the American Innovation and Choice Online Act (S. 2992), American Bar Association Antitrust Law Section (Apr. 27, 2022) at 5, available at (hereinafter “ABA Letter”).

[40] Press Release, Klobuchar Statement on Judiciary Passage of Legislation to Set App Store Rules of the Road, U.S. Senator Amy Klobuchar (Feb. 3, 2022),

[41] This is stated in the title of the bill. The ACCESS Act also claims to “encourage entry by reducing or eliminating the network effects that limit competition with the covered platform.” See ACCESS ACT at § 6(c).

[42] Press Release, Lawmakers Reintroduce Bipartisan Legislation to Encourage Competition in Social Media, U.S. Sen. Mark R. Warner (May 25, 2022),; see also, The ACCESS Act of 2022, U.S. Senator Mark R. Warner, available at

[43] Online Intermediation Platforms Market Inquiry, Summary of Final Report and Remedial Actions, South African Competition Commission (2023), 13, available at

[44] Projeto de Lei PL 2768/2022, (Braz.) (Portuguese language only).

[45] Id. at Art. 4.

[46] Id. at Art. 5.

[47] DMA, supra note 2 at recitals 2, 31. On the two objectives being intertwined, see Recital 34.

[48] Id., at Recital 10.

[49] Id.

[50] Anti-Competitive Practices by Big Tech Companies, Fifty Third Report, Standing Committee on Finance, 17th Lok Sahba (India), (2022-23), available at, at 29.

[51] Report of the Committee on Digital Competition Law (India), Annexure IV: Draft Digital Competition Bill (2024),

[52] The Competition Act, No. 12 of 2003, INDIA CODE (1993).

[53] CDC Report, at 4, 42.

[54] ICA, preamble. The ICA does not mention “contestability.”

[55] Report of the High-Powered Expert Committee on Competition Law and Policy (India) (1999), available at

[56] Raghavan Committee Report, at 1.1.9. “The ultimate raison d’être of competition is the interest of the consumer”; see also at 1.2.0.

[57] Raghavan Committee Report, at 2.4.1.

[58] Raghavan Committee Report, at 3.2.8. “If multiple objectives are allowed to rein in the Competition Policy, conflicts and inconsistent results may surface detriment to the consumers… In addition, such concerns as community breakdown, fairness, equity and pluralism cannot be quantified easily or even defined acceptably… it needs to be underscored that attempts to incorporate such concerns may result in inconsistent application and interpretation of Competition Policy, besides dilution of competition principles. The peril is that the competitive process may be undermined, if too many objectives are built into the Competition Policy and too many exemptions/exceptions are laid down in dilution of competition principles.”

[59] See, e.g., Pelle Beems, The DMA in the Broader Regulatory Landscape of the EU: An Institutional Perspective, 19 Eur. Comp. J. 1, 27 (2023); Pierre Larouche & Alexandre De Streel, The European Digital Market: A Revolution Grounded on Traditions, 12 J. Eur. Comp. L. & Practice 542, 542 (2021) (arguing that the DMA’s conceptual nature is in a “difficult epistemological position”).

[60] See Nicolas Petit, The Proposed Digital Markets Act (DMA): A Legal and Policy Review, 12 J. Eur. Competition L. & Practice 529, 530 (2021) (“The DMA is essentially sector-specific competition law.”). The DMA’s competition-law DNA is also explicitly reflected in Section 1.4.1 of the Legislative Financial Statement, which is annexed to the DMA proposal. See id. (“The general objective of this initiative is to ensure the proper functioning of the internal market by promoting effective competition in digital markets.”). See also Beems, supra note 62, at 27 (“In my view, it could be desirable to qualify the DMA as a specific branch of competition law that applies to gatekeepers.”).

[61] See Giuseppe Colangelo, The European Digital Markets Act and Antitrust Enforcement: A Liaison Dangereuse, 5 Eur. L. Rev., 597, 610 (2022) (“In service of this goal of speedier enforcement, the DMA dispenses with economic analysis and the efficiency-oriented consumer welfare test, substituting lower legal standards and evidentiary burdens.”). See also Pablo Iba?n?ez Colomo, The Draft Digital Markets Act: A Legal and Institutional Analysis, 12 J. Eur. Competition L. & Practice 561, 566 (2021).

[62] It should be underscored that “power” here means something much broader and general than the narrow concept of “market power” under competition law. Unlike “market power,” assertions that so-called “Big Tech” wield “power” are not intended to invoke a state-of-the art term, but rather are general references to companies’ size, resources, and capacity. Neo-Brandeisians like Lina Khan and Tim Wu often refer to the “power” of Big Tech in such terms. See generally Tim Wu, The Curse of Bigness: Antitrust in the Gilded Age (2018). For Wu, like Khan, the harmful “power” of Big Tech refers not just to concentrated economic power or market power, but to a range of other mechanisms by which these firms allegedly hold sway over democracy, elections, and society at-large. See also Zephyr Teachout & Lina Khan, Market Structure and Political Law: A Taxonomy of Power, 9 Duke J. Const. L. & Pub. Pol’y 37,74 (2014).

[63] See, e.g., Joshua Q. Nelson, Joe Concha: “Big Tech is More Powerful than Government” in Terms of Speech, Fox News (Jan. 27 2021),; How 5 Tech Giants Have Become More like Governments than Companies, Fresh Air (Oct. 26, 2017), (“New York Times tech columnist Farhad Manjoo warns that the ‘frightful five’—Amazon, Google, Apple, Microsoft and Facebook—are collectively more powerful than many governments.”).

[64] See, e.g., Press Release, Klobuchar, Grassley Statements on Judiciary Committee Passage of First Major Technology Bill on Competition to Advance to Senate Floor Since the Dawn of the Internet, U.S. Sen. Amy Klobuchar (Jan. 20, 2022), (“Everyone acknowledges the problems posed by dominant online platforms.”).

[65] See, e.g., DMA recitals 3, 4, 33, and 62.

[66] See, e.g., The Social Dilemma (Exposure Labs, Argent Pictures & The Space Program, 2020); Tech Monopolies: Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (HBO, 2022); Yanis Varoufakis, Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism (2023); Shoshana Zuboff, The Age of Surveillance Capitalism: The Fight for a Human Future at the New Frontier of Power (2019).

[67] See Luca Bertuzzi, EU Commission Launches Connectivity Package with ‘Fair Share‘ Consultation, EurActiv (Feb. 28, 2023),; see also Daniele Condorelli, Jorge Padilla, & Zita Vasas, Another Look at the Debate on the “Fair Share” Proposal: An Economic Viewpoint, Compass Lexecon (2023), available at On the supposed bargaining-power imbalance between large traffic originators and telecommunications companies, see id. at point 1.34(d). “There is a risk that the current unregulated arrangements result in no payments from LTOs due to asymmetries of information between industry participants, free-riding among LTOs, and the large imbalance in bargaining power between LTOs and TELCOs.” See also id. at points 3.77, 3.78 and 3.79-3.84 for the argument that the power imbalances require intervention. For a different view of “fair share,” see Giuseppe Colangelo, Fair Share of Network Costs and Regulatory Myopia: Learning from Net Neutrality Mistakes, Int’l. Ctr. for Law & Econ. (Jul. 18, 2023) (forthcoming in Law, Innovation and Technology), available at

[68] See Treasury Laws Amendment (News Media and Digital Platforms Mandatory Bargaining Code) Act 2021 (Austl.); for a defense of legislation forcing digital platforms to compensate media companies, see Zephyr Teachout, The Big Unfriendly Tech Giants, The Nation (Dec. 25, 2023),

[69] News Media Bargaining Code, Australian Competition and Consumer Commission, (last accessed May 14, 2024).

[70] See, e.g., Journalism and Competition Preservation Act of 2023, S. 1094, 118th Cong. (2023); Online News Act (S.C. 2023, c.23) (Can.).

[71] See, e.g., DMA at recitals 1, 15, 20, 62, and Art.1(b); DMCC at s.6(b); PL 2768 at Art. 2, which defines the regulation’s targets as companies with the “power to control essential access”; Competition Act in the version published on 26 June 2013 (Bundesgesetzblatt (Federal Law Gazette) I, 2013, p. 1750, 3245), as last amended by Article 1 of the Act of 25 October 2023 (Federal Law Gazette I, p. 294), Art.19(a) (1)5 (Ger.) (hereinafter “German Competition Act”).

[72] See, e.g., DMA at Recital 23, Art.3 and Art.3(8)(a); DMCC at s.6(a); German Competition Act, Art.19(a); but see DSA, Section 5, which imposes special obligations on “very large online platforms.”

[73] “From Price to Power”? Reorienting Antitrust for the New Political Economy, panel at Antitrust, Regulation and the Next World Order conference, (Feb. 2, 2024),

[74] DMA, at recital 4 (emphasis added).

[75] DMA, at recital 33.

[76] See Press Release, Digital Markets Act: Commission Welcomes Political Agreement on Rules to Ensure Fair and Open Digital Markets, European Commission (Mar. 25, 2022), (“What we want is simple: Fair markets also in digital. We are now taking a huge step forward to get there—that markets are fair, open and contestable…. This regulation, together with strong competition law enforcement, will bring fairer conditions to consumers and businesses for many digital services across the EU.”) (emphasis added); see also Press Release, Klobuchar, Grassley, Colleagues to Introduce Bipartisan Legislation to Rein in Big Tech, U.S. Sen. Amy Klobuchar (Oct. 14, 2021), (joint statement by Sens. Amy Klobuchar and Chuck Grassley with references to “fair competition,” “fair prices,” “unfairly preferencing their own products,” “fairer prices,” “unfairly limiting consumer choices,” “fair rules for the road”).

[77] For example, the DMA mentions the term “fairness,” or some variation thereof, 90 times in 66 pages.

[78] DMA, at Recital 11 (emphasis added).

[79] See DMA, Arts. 5-7.

[80] See DMA, Art. 3.

[81] CDC Report, at 2.

[82] See, e.g., German Competition Act, at Section 19a(1), stating that, in determining the paramount significance for competition across an undertaking’s markets, there shall be particular account taken of its dominant position; financial strength or access to other resources; vertical integration; access to data relevant to competition; and the relevance of its activities for third-party access to supply and sales markets. See also DMCC, at S. 5 and S.6 (substantial and entrenched market power is a cumulative criterion, together with a position of strategic significance); DMA, at Recital 5 and Art. 3 (market power is irrelevant because the criteria for designation are (a) having a significant impact on the internal market; (b) providing a core platform service that is an important gateway for business users to reach end users; and (c) enjoying an entrenched and durable position). PL 2768 does not mention market power, and instead references control of essential access; the U.S. tech bills do not define covered platforms on the basis of market power either.

[83] The DMA explicitly rejects it. See Recital 23.

[84] Examples include online-intermediation services, online search engines, online social-networking services, and video-sharing platform services. See DMA, at Art. 2.

[85] See Elise Dorsey, Geoffrey A. Manne, Jan M. Rybnicek, Kristian Stout, and Joshua D. Wright, Consumer Welfare & the Rule of Law: The Case Against the New Populist Antitrust Movement, 47 Pepp. L. Rev. 861, 916 (2020).

[86] There are some exceptions to this. Some digital competition regulations seem to incorporate consumer-welfare considerations. One example is the KFTC’s recently proposed digital competition regulation, which is putatively aimed at protecting business users and consumers, and would allow for an efficiency defense. See Lee & Ko, supra note 21.

[87] See supra note 76.

[88] See infra Sections II.C and II.D.

[89] On the essential-facilities doctrine in the United States, see Philip K. Areeda, Essential Facilities: An Epithet in Need of Limiting Principles, 58 Antitrust L.J. 841 (1990); ever since the Supreme Court’s ruling in Trinko, no plaintiff has successfully litigated an essential-facilities claim to judgment. See, Verizon Communications, Inc. v. Law Offices of Curtis V. Trinko, LLP, 540 U.S. 398 (2003) (“As a general matter, the Sherman Act “does not restrict the long recognized right of [a] trader or manufacturer engaged in an entirely private business, freely to exercise his own independent discretion as to parties with whom he will deal.’”) (citations omitted).

[90] Communication from the Commission — Guidance on the Commission’s enforcement priorities in applying Article 82 of the EC Treaty to abusive exclusionary conduct by dominant undertakings (2009), at recital 13.

[91] Richard Whish & David Bailey, Competition Law (10th ed. 2021), at 142-3.

[92] See, e.g., Christopher M. Seelen, The Essential Facilities Doctrine: What does it Mean to be Essential? 80 Marq. L. Rev. 1117, 1123 (1997), discussing free-riding and the moral-hazard considerations implicit in defining essential facilities as essential to a competitor, rather than to competition. (“[A]pplication of the doctrine often focuses unduly on the effect of the denial of access on the plaintiff’s ability to compete-not on the infringement of competition which is the objective of the antitrust law.” (citations omitted), and at 1124 (“There exists a moral hazard when plaintiffs bring an essential facility claim against a single competitor. Indeed, firms might try to use the doctrine to take a ‘free ride’ on the efforts of a competitor.”). See also, Verband Deutscher Wetterdienstleister v. Google, Reference No. 408 HKO 36/13, Court of Hamburg (Apr. 4, 2013), 4, available at (“[A]pplicant’s members have been participating and will continue to participate in Google Search as ‘free riders.’ They demand favorable positioning without offering compensation.”); Continental T.V., Inc. v. GTE Sylvania Inc., 433 U.S. 36 (1977) (applying the rule of reason to territorial restrictions because they might be imposed by a manufacturer who wishes to prevent dealers from free-riding on point-of-sale services provided by another dealer).

[93] See, e.g., Brown Shoe Co. v. United States, 370 U.S. 294, 344 (1962) (“It is competition, not competitors, which the Act protects.”). See also Donna E. Patterson and Carl Shapiro, Transatlantic Divergence in GE/Honeywell: Causes and Lessons, Antitrust 18 (2001); Maureen K. Ohlhausen & John M. Taladay, Are Competition Officials Abandoning Competition Principles?, 13 J. Comp. L. & Practice 463 (2022).

[94] See, e.g., Trinko at 408; Pac. Bell Tel. Co. v. Linkline Commc’ns, Inc., 555 U.S. 438, 448 (2009); Chavez v. Whirlpool Corp., 113 Cal. Rptr. 2d, 182-83 (Ct. App. 2001); Foremost Pro Color, Inc. v. Eastman Kodak Co., 703 F.2d 534, 545 (9th Cir. 1983) (“The antitrust laws [do] not impose a duty on [firms] . . . to assist [competitors] . . . to ‘survive or expand.’”) (citations omitted).

[95] Mario Monti, Speech at the Third Nordic Competition Policy Conference, Stockholm: Fighting Cartels Why and How? Why Should We be Concerned with Cartels and Collusive Behaviour? (Sept. 11, 2000); see also Trinko at 408 (characterizing cartels as “the supreme evil of antitrust”).

[96] Although there is a rebuttable presumption to the contrary, undertakings can argue that agreements containing hardcore restrictions should benefit from an individual exemption under Article 101(3) TFEU. See Judgment of 13 October 2011, Pierre Fabre, C?439/09, ECLI:EU:C:2011:649. Moreover, “hardcore restrictions,” like cartels, need to be restrictions of competition “by object,” within the meaning of Art. 101(1) TFEU. Undertakings can hence try to demonstrate that a given hardcore restriction, examined in its economic and legal context, is objectively justified and does not fall within the prohibition laid down in Article 101(1) TFEU. See Opinion of Advocate General Wahl delivered on 16 July 2017, Coty, C-230/16, ECLI:EU:C:2017:603.

[97] For an extensive set of views opposing those endorsed by proponents of digital competition regulations, see, e.g., The Global Antitrust Institute Report on the Digital Economy (Joshua D. Wright & Douglas H. Ginsburg, eds., Nov. 11, 2020),

[98] See ABA letter, supra note 41.

[99] Law No. 12.529 of 30 November, 2011 (Braz.), available at

[100] PL 2768, art. 4.

[101] See Section I.

[102] See Section I.

[103] See, e.g., Rambus v. Fed. Trade Comm’n, 522 F.3d 456, 459 (D.C. Cir. 2008) (“[D]eceit merely enabling a monopolist to charge higher prices than it otherwise could have charged—would not in itself constitute monopolization.”). See also Judgment of 4 August 2023, Meta Platforms v. Bundeskartellamt, Case C 252-21, ECLI:EU:C:2023:537.

[104] For example, where a small company increases prices or downgrades its product, this can generally be corrected through competition, as the company will lose market share and be forced out of the market unless it changes its behavior. But when the same outcome is achieved through restrictions of competition or the misuse of market power, the market may be unable to respond effectively, and intervention may become necessary.

[105] We question whether this was ever the true intent behind digital competition regulation, see Section IIII.C.

[106] See also Section IIB.

[107] See, e.g., Svend Albaek, Consumer Welfare in EU Competition Policy, in Aims and Values in Competition Law, 67, 75 (Caroline Heide-JørgensenUlla NeergaardChristian Bergqvist, & Sune T. Poulsen eds., 2013) (“In practice it turns out that we should understand ‘consumers’ as customers rather than ‘real’ or ‘final’ consumers. Paragraph 84 of the General Guidelines takes a first step towards clarifying this: ‘[C]onsumers within the meaning of Article 81(3) are the customers of the parties to the agreement and subsequent purchasers.”); see also Article 102 (c) TFEU, which prohibits dominant companies from “applying dissimilar conditions to equivalent transactions with other trading parties, thereby placing them at a competitive disadvantage” (emphasis added). For a U.S. perspective, see, e.g., Kenneth Heyer, Welfare Standards and Merger Analysis: Why Not the Best? 2 Comp. Pol’y Int’l 29 (2006).

[108] In the United States, the clearest exponent of these ideas was Justice Louis D. Brandeis, who coined the term “curse of bigness” to refer to the material, social, and political ills that accompanied large corporations. See, e.g., Louis D. Brandeis, The Curse of Bigness: Miscellaneous Papers of Louis D. Brandeis (Osmond K. Fraenkel ed., 1934); in Europe, the notion is associated with the ordoliberal school. See, e.g., Wilhelm Roepke, A Humane Economy: The Social Framework of the Free Market (2014) at 32 (“If we want to name a common denominator for the social disease of our times, then it is concentration”).

[109] See, e.g. Wu, 2018 supra note 65; Sally Lee, Tim Wu Explains How Big Tech is Crippling Democracy, Columbia Magazine (Spring 2019) Asked whether bigness must be bad by its very nature, Tim Wu replies: “well, it’s designed to put its own interests over human interests, to grow like a cancer, and to never die. I once heard someone say that if a corporation were a person, it would be a sociopath. Which brings us to the real question: who is this country for? For humans or these artificial entities?”; See also Khan & Teachout, 2014, supra note 65, at 37. “Ever-increasing corporate size and concentration undercut democratic self-governance by disproportionately influencing governmental actors, as recognized by campaign finance reformers.”; and at 40-1. “Antitrust means, for us, government power to limit company size and concentration; this incarnation is an ethos, not a legal term.”

[110] See, e.g., Amanda Lotz, “Big Tech” Isn’t One Big Monopoly — It’s 5 Companies All in Different Businesses, The Conversation (Mar. 23, 2018),; Isobel A. Hamilton, Tim Cook Says He‘s Tired of Big Tech Being Painted as a Monolithic Force That Needs Tearing Apart, Business Insider (May 7, 2019), (“Tech is not monolithic. That would be like saying ‘all restaurants are the same,’ or ‘all TV networks are the same.’”) See also Nicolas Petit, Big tech and the Digital Economy: The Moligopoly Scenario (2022); Frank H. Easterbrook, Cyberspace and the Law of the Horse, 1996 U. Chi. Leg. Forum 207 (1996).

[111] See Friso Bostoen, Understanding the Digital Markets Act, 68 Antitrust Bull. 263, 282 (2023) (“It is difficult to find a common thread here. For starters, NIICS and cloud services are one-sided rather than multisided, so they can hardly be core platform services”).

[112] See Lazar Radic, Gatekeeping, the DMA, and the Future of Competition Regulation, Truth on the Market (Nov. 8, 2023), On tech disruption of traditional industries, see Adam Hayes, 20 Industries Threatened by Tech Disruption, Investopedia (Jan. 23, 2022),; on the bipartisan hostility toward “Big Tech” in the United States, see Nitasha Tiku, How Big Tech Became a Bipartisan Whipping Boy, Wired (Oct. 23, 2017),

[113] See, e.g., Lina Khan, Amazon’s Antitrust Paradox, 126 Yale L.J. 710 (2017); Zephyr Teachout & Lina Khan, Market Power and Political Law: A Taxonomy of Power, 9 Duke J. Const. L. & Pub. Pol’y 37 (2014); Kirk Ott, Event Notes: The Consumer Welfare Standard is Dead, Long Live the Standard, ProMarket (Nov.1, 2022),; Zephyr Teachout, The Death of the Consumer Welfare Standard, ProMarket (Nov. 7, 2023),

[114] See, e.g., Rana Foohar, The Great US-Europe Antitrust Divide, Financial Times (Feb. 5, 2024),

[115] Neo-Brandeisians often argue that antitrust law should strive to uphold a dispersed market structure and protect small business. See, e.g., Lina Khan & Sandeep Vaheesan. Market Power and Inequality: The Antitrust Counterrevolution and its discontents, 11 Harv. L. & Pol’y Rev. 235 (2017), at 237. “Antitrust laws must be reoriented away from the current efficiency focus toward a broader understanding that aims to protect consumers and small suppliers from the market power of large sellers and buyers, maintain the openness of markets, and disperse economic and political power.”

[116] See Khan & Vaheesan, supra note 122 at 236-7 (2017). “Antitrust laws historically sought to protect consumers and small suppliers from noncompetitive pricing, preserve open markets to all comers, and disperse economic and political power. The Reagan administration—with no input from Congress—rewrote antitrust to focus on the concept of neoclassical economic efficiency”; and, at 294, “It is important to trace contemporary antitrust enforcement and the philosophy underpinning it to the Chicago School intellectual revolution of the 1970s and 1980s, codified into policy by President Reagan. By collapsing a multitude of goals into the pursuit of narrow ‘economic efficiency,’ both scholars and practitioners ushered in standards and analyses that have heavily tilted the field in favor of defendants.”

[117] See, e.g., Nicolas Petit, Understanding Market Power (Robert Schuman Centre for Advanced Studies Working Paper No. RSC 14, 1, 2022) (“Antitrust laws are concerned with undue market power. In an economic conception of the law, antitrust rules of liability strike down anticompetitive business conduct or mergers that represent illegitimate market power strategies.”).

[118] On inefficient and efficient market exit, see Dirk Auer & Lazar Radic, The Growing Legacy of Intel, 14 J. Comp. L. & Prac. 15 (2023).

[119] According to some, the interpretation of market power as synonymous with size and concentration is the European reading of the concept. See Petit, supra note 124, at 1 (“When European antitrust lawyers think about market power, they do not direct their attention to consumer prices. They think about corporate size and industrial concentration, see giant American firms, and deduce that they have a domestic market power problem.”).

[120] See, e.g., Or Brook, Non-Competition Interests in EU Antitrust Law: An Empirical Study of Article 101 TFEU (1st ed. 2023), discussing the different goals and values of EU competition law throughout the years; Konstantinos Stylianou & Marcos Iacovides, The Goals of EU Competition Law: A Comprehensive Empirical Investigation, 42 Legal Studies 1, 17-8 (2020). “EU competition law is not monothematic but pursues a multitude of goals historically and today;” In the United States, see Robert H. Bork, The Antitrust Paradox: A Policy at War with Itself, 7 (1978) (finding the collection of socio-political goals at the time to be “mutually incompatible”); Joshua D. Wright & Douglas H. Ginsburg, The Goals of Antitrust: Welfare Trumps Choice, 81 Fordham L Rev 2405, 2405 (2013). “The Court interpreted the Sherman and Clayton Acts to reflect a hodgepodge of social and political goals…”; Thomas A. Lambert & Tate Cooper, Neo-Brandeisianism’s Democracy Paradox, University, 49 Journal of Corporation Law, 18 (2023).“In the mid-Twentieth Century, U.S. courts embraced the sort of multi-goaled deconcentration agenda Neo-Brandeisians advocate;” and Joshua D. Wright, Elyse Dorsey, Jonathan Klick, & Jan M. Rybnicek, Requiem for a Paradox: The Dubious Rise and Inevitable Fall of Hipster Antitrust, 51 Ariz. St. L. J. 293, 300-1 (2019) (discussing multi-goaled approach of mid-20th-century antitrust).

[121] See, e.g., Ioannis Lianos, Polycentric Competition Law, 71 Current Legal Problems 161 (2019); Maurice E. Stucke, Reconsidering Antitrust’s Goals, 53 B.C.L. Rev. 551, 551 (2012), “[t]he quest for a single economic goal has failed…this article proposes how to integrate antitrust’s multiple policy objectives into the legal framework.”; The Consumer Welfare Standard in Antitrust: Outdated or a Harbor in a Sea of Doubt?: Hearing Before the Subcomm. on Antitrust, Competition and Consumer Rights of the S. Comm. on the Judiciary, 115th Cong. (2017) (statement of Barry Lynn), arguing for the return to a “political antitrust”; Dina I. Walked, Antitrust as Public Interest Law: Redistribution, Equity, and Social Justice, 65 Antitrust Bull 87, 87 (2020), “[o]nce we frame antitrust as public interest law, in its broadest sense, we are empowered to use it to address inequality;” Saksham Malik, Social Justice as a Goal of Competition Policy, Kluwer Competition Law Blog (Feb. 23, 2024),

[122] It is no coincidence that critics of the “status quo” consistently attempt to cast economic analysis and (certain) antitrust case-law as a mistake brought about by judges adhering to the ideology of “neoliberalism,” rather than as the result of organic, piecemeal progression. See Khan & Vaheesan, supra note 122.

[123] Magrethe Vestager, Keynote of EVP Vestager at the European Competition Law Tuesdays: A Principles Based Approach to Competition Policy (Oct. 25, 2022),; See also Ohlhausen & Taladay, supra note 70 at 465.

[124] See, supra note 8.

[125] See also Press Release, Antitrust: Commission Accepts Commitments by Amazon Barring It from Using Marketplace Seller Data and Ensuring Equal Access to BuyBox and Prime, European Commission (Dec. 20, 2022),

[126] For commentary, see Lazar Radic, Apple Fined at the 11th Hour Before DMA Enters into Force, Truth on the Market (Mar. 5 2024),

[127] Giuseppe Colangelo (@GiuColangelo), Twitter (Oct. 5, 2023, 2:37 PM),

[128] Digital Platform Services Inquiry, supra note 18 at 14.

[129] Standing Committee on Finance, supra note 22, at 28, 38-39.

[130] Id. at 30.

[131] Shivi Gupta & Mansi Raghav, Digital Competition Law Committee to Finalise Report by August 2023, Lexology (Jul. 31, 2023),; Whole Government Approach to be Adopted for Digital Competition Laws, The Economic Times (Jul. 4 2023),

[132] The Competition Act, 2002, No.12 of 2003 (India), available at

[133] Antitrust, Regulation, and the Next World Order, supra note 53.

[134] See, e.g., the DMA’s definition of “fairness.” DMA, Recital 4.

[135] Ex Ante Regulation in Digital Markets – Background Note, DAF/COMP(2021)15, 16, OECD (Dec. 1, 2021) (“Framing regulations in terms of fairness may therefore also refer to redistribution, better treatment of users, or a host of other goals”). See also id. at 19.

[136] Pablo Ibanez Colomo, The Draft Digital Markets Act: A Legal and Institutional Analysis, 12 Journal of Competition Law & Practice 561, 562 (2021). See also id. at 565(“The driver of many disputes that may superficially be seen as relating to leveraging can be more rationalised, more convincingly, as attempts to re-allocate rents away from vertically-integrated incumbents to rivals”).

[137] See, e.g., Fiona Scott Morton & Cristina Caffarra, The European Commission Digital Markets Act: A Translation, VoxEU (Jan. 5, 021), We contest the assertion that the DMA and other digital competition regulations aim to create competition, rather than aid competitors, in Section IIIB.

[138] On the relationship between rent seeking and ex-ante regulation, see generally Thom Lambert, Rent-Seeking and Public Choice in Digital Markets, in The Global Antitrust Institute Report on the Digital Economy (Joshua D. Wright & Douglas H. Ginsburg, eds., Nov. 11, 2020).

[139] See, e.g., Making the Digital Market Easier to Use: The Act on Improving Transparency and Fairness of Digital Platforms (TFDPA), Japanese Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry (Apr. 23, 2021), The Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry specifically links the TFDPA to benefits for SMEs; see also Ebru Gokce Dessemond, Restoring Competition in ”Winner-Took-All” Digital Platform Markets, UNCTAD (Feb. 4, 2020), (“Competition law provisions on unfair trade practices and abuse of superior bargaining position, as found in competition laws of Japan and the Republic of Korea, would empower competition authorities in protecting the interests of smaller firms vis-à-vis big platforms”).

[140] See DMA, Recital 2, referring to a significant degree of dependence of both consumers and business users. See, in a similar vein, DMA Recitals 20, 43, 75. On self-inflicted dependence, see Geoffrey A. Manne, The Real Reason Foundem Foundered, Int’l. Ctr. for Law & Econ. (2018), available at

[141] For commentary on how bans on self-preferencing benefit large, but less-efficient competitors, see Lazar Radic & Geoffrey A. Manne, Amazon Italy’s Efficiency Offense, Truth on the Market (Jan. 11, 2022),

[142] Adam Kovacevich, The Digital Markets Act’s “Statler & Waldorf” Problem, Medium (Mar. 7 2024), (arguing that the companies who lobbied for the DMA are content aggregators like Yelp, Tripadvisor, and; big app makers like Spotify, Epic Games, and; and rival search engines like Ecosia, Yandex, and DuckDuckGo).

[143] For example, Epic Games’ revenue in 2023 was roughly $5.6 billion. In 2023, Epic Games employed about 4,300 workers. See, respectively, and According to the OECD, a small and medium-sized enterprise is one that employs fewer than 250 people. Enterprises by Business Size (Indicator), OECD,More, (last accessed May 14, 2024).

[144] Mathieu Pollet, France to Prioritise Digital Regulation, Tech Sovereignty During EU Council Presidency, EurActiv (Dec. 14, 2021),

[145] See, e.g., Matthias Bauer & Fredrik Erixon, Europe’s Quest for Technology Sovereignty: Opportunities and Pitfalls, ECIPE (2020),; see also Dennis Csernatoni et al., Digital Sovereignty: From Narrative to Policy?, EU Cyber Direct (2022),

[146] Digital Sovereignty for Europe, European Parliament (2020), available at For further discussion, see Lazar Radic, Gatekeeping, the DMA, and the Future of Competition Regulation, Truth on the Market (Nov. 8, 2023),

[147] Press Release, Digital Markets Act: Commission Designates Six Gatekeepers, European Commission (Sep. 6, 2023),

[148] Online Intermediation Platforms Market Inquiry, Summary of Final Report, South African Competition Commission (2023),

[149] Note that the unfairness here stems from having the resources to invest in search-engine optimization.

[150] Id. at 3.

[151] Id.

[152] Id. at 10.

[153] Id, at 6, 9, 23, 32, and 67.

[154] It is becoming clearer and clearer that the test for compliance with DMA’s rules will be whether competitors and complementors enjoy an increase in market share. See Foo Yun Chee & Martin Coulter, EU’s Digital Markets Act Hands Boost to Big Tech’s Smaller Rivals, Reuters (Mar. 11 2024) The public-policy chief of Ecosia, one of Google’s competitors in search, had this to say about the implementation of the DMA: “the implementation of these new rules is a step in the right direction, but the proof of the pudding is always in the eating, and whether we see any meaningful changes in market share.”

[155] Even the DMA’s supporters accept that the regulation is not grounded in economics. Cristina Caffarra, Europe’s Tech Regulation is Not Economic Policy, Project Syndicate (Oct. 11, 2023),

[156] Press Release, Apple Announces Changes to iOS, Safari, and the App Store in the European Union, Apple Inc., (Jan. 25, 2024),

[157] Andy Yen, Apple’s DMA Compliance Plan Is a Trap and a Slap in the Face for the European Commission, Proton (2024),; Press Release, Apple’s Proposed Changes Reject the Goals of the DMA, Spotify (Jan. 26, 2024),; Morgan Meaker, Apple Isn’t Ready to Release Its Grip on the App Store (Jan. 26, 2024),

[158] See, supra note 125 (discussing who lobbied for the DMA).

[159] DMCC, S. 38-45.

[160] See, A New Pro-competition Regime for Digital Markets: Policy Summary Briefing, UK Department for Business & Trade & Department for Science Innovation & Technology (2023),; see also, A New Pro-Competition Regime for Digital Markets. Consultation Document, UK Department for Culture, M. S. and Department for Business Energy & Industrial Strategy (2022), available at

[161] Dirk Auer, Matthew Lesh, & Lazar Radic, Digital Overload: How the Digital Markets, Competition and Consumers Bill’s Sweeping New Powers Threaten Britain’s Economy, Institute of Economic Affairs (Sep. 18, 2023),

[162] See also Alfonso Lamadrid & Pablo Ibáñez Colomo, The DMA – Procedural Afterthoughts, Chillin’ Competition (Sep. 5, 2022), (“Unlike competition law, the DMA is not so much about protecting consumers, but competitors/ third parties”); Chee & Coulter, supra note 137. “As the world’s biggest tech companies revamp their core online services to comply with the European Union’s landmark Digital Markets Act, the changes could give some smaller rivals and even peers a competitive edge.”

[163] See, e.g., Judgment of 6 September 2016, Intel v. Commission, Case C?413/14 P, EU:C:2017:632, para. 134 (“Thus, not every exclusionary effect is necessarily detrimental to competition. Competition on the merits may, by definition, lead to the departure from the market or the marginalisation of competitors that are less attractive to consumers from the point of view of, among other things, price, choice, quality or innovation”) (emphasis added).

[164] See, Auer & Radic, supra note 91.

[165] See, e.g., Competition on the Merits, DAF/COMP(2005)27, 9, OECD (2005), available at (“It is widely agreed that the purpose of competition policy is to protect competition, not competitors”).

[166] Ohlhausen & Taladay, supra note 70 at 465.

[167] See e.g., Questions and Answers, Digital Markets Act: Ensuring Fair and Open Digital Markets, European Commission (Sep. 6, 2023), (“[Gatekeepers] will therefore have to proactively implement certain behaviours that make the markets more open and contestable”).

[168] Jan Krämer & Daniel Schnurr, Big Data and Digital Markets Contestability: Theory of Harm and Data Access Remedies, 18 Journal of Competition Law & Economics 255 (2021).

[169] On self-preferencing in the context of antitrust, see Radic & Manne, supra note 113.

[170] On data portability and free-riding, see Sam Bowman, Data Portability: The Costs of Imposed Openness, Int’l. Ctr. for Law & Econ. (2020), available at

[171] H.R. 3849, supra note 29.

[172] Id. at § 7.

[173] Id. at § 7(b)(4).

[174] Id. at § 4(e)(1).

[175] Remarks by Executive-Vice President Vestager and Commissioner Breton on the Opening of Non-Compliance Investigations under the Digital Markets Act, European Commission (Mar. 25 2024), “Stakeholders provided feedback on the compliance solutions offered. Their feedback tells us that certain compliance measures fail to achieve their objectives and fall short of expectations.”

[176] The terms “levelling down” and “levelling up” are, to our knowledge, not normally deployed in the fields of antitrust law and digital competition regulation. They are, however, used frequently in areas of constitutional law, such as equality and free speech. In the context of equality law, see generally Deborah L. Brake, When Equality Leaves Everyone Worse Off: The Problem of Levelling Down in Equality Law, 46 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 513 (2004). Examples include achieving equality between men and women by levelling down men’s opportunities until they reach parity with women’s, or levelling down public spending in wealthier school districts to reach equality with poorer districts.

[177] See, e.g., DMA Art. 6(7), establishing a duty to provide interoperability with the gatekeepers’ services, free of charge; see also arts.5(4), 5(10), 6(8), 6(9), and 7(1).

[178] See, e.g., Dirk Auer & Geoffrey A. Manne, TL;DR: Apple v Epic: The Value of Closed Systems, Int’l. Ctr. for Law & Econ. (Apr. 20, 2021), available at

[179] This argument was accepted in the context of in-app payment systems by the U.S. District Court in Epic Games, Inc. v. Apple Inc., 4:20-cv-05640-YGR (N.D. Cal. Nov. 9, 2021). On the security and privacy risks posed by sideloading and interoperability, see, e.g., Mikolaj Barczentewicz, Privacy and Security Implications of Regulation of Digital Services in the EU and in the U.S., Stanford-Vienna Transatlantic Technology Law Forum TTLF Working Papers No. 84 (2022); Bjorn Lundqvist, Injecting Security into European Tech Policy, CEPA (2023),

[180] “Open” and “closed” platforms are not synonymous with “good” and “bad” platforms. These are legitimate differences in product design and business philosophy, and neither is inherently more restrictive than the other. Andrei Haigu, Proprietary vs. Open Two-Sided Platforms and Social Efficiency, Harvard Business School Strategy Unit Working Paper No. 09-113 (2007), 2-3 (explaining that there is a “fundamental welfare tradeoff between two-sided proprietary . . . platforms and two-sided open platforms, which allow ‘free entry’ on both sides of the market” and thus “it is by no means obvious which type of platform will create higher product variety, consumer adoption and total social welfare”); see also Jonathan M. Barnett, The Host’s Dilemma: Strategic Forfeiture in Platform Markets for Informational Goods, 124 Harv. L. Rev. 1861, 1927 (2011).

[181] See, e.g., Bus. Elecs. Corp. v. Sharp Elecs. Corp., 485 U.S. 717, 748– 49 (1988) (Stevens, J., dissenting) (“A demonstrable benefit to interbrand competition will outweigh the harm to intrabrand competition that is caused by the imposition of vertical nonprice restrictions on dealers”); Leegin Creative Leather Products, Inc. v. PSKS, Inc., 551 U.S. 877 (2007) (“For, as has been indicated already, the antitrust laws are designed primarily to protect interbrand competition, from which lower prices can later result”).

[182] Issue Spotlight: Self-Preferencing, Int’l. Ctr. for Law & Econ. (last updated Nov. 10, 2022),

[183] Sam Bowman & Geoffrey A. Manne, Platform Self-Preferencing Can be Good for Consumers and Even Competitors, Truth on the Market (Mar. 4, 2021),

[184] Kadir Bas & Kerem Cem Sanli, Amendments to E-Commerce Law: Protecting or Preventing Competition?, Marmara University Law School Journal (2024) (forthcoming).

[185] Id. at 10.

[186] Id. at 21.

[187] Id. at 5 (emphasis added).

[188] DMCC, S. 20(3)(c).

[189] Auer, Lesh, & Radic, supra note 128.

  • [190] Joseph A. Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy, 100-1 (Harper and Row, New York 1942), 100-1 (“[t]here cannot be any reasonable doubt that under the conditions of our epoch such [technological] superiority is as a matter of fact the outstanding feature of the typical large-scale unit of control”); Hadi Houlla & Aurelien Portuese, The Great Revealing: Taking Competition in America and Europe Seriously, ITIF 23 (2023). (“In highly innovative industries, greater firm size and concentration lower industry-wide costs. A European study shows that larger high-tech firms could increase technological knowledge better than smaller ones…When economies of scale or network effects are large, firms must be sufficiently large to be efficient”); William Baumol, The Free Market Innovation Machine (2002), 196 (“Oligopolistic competition among large, high-tech, business firms, with innovation as a prime competitive weapon, ensures continued innovative activities and, very plausibly, their growth. In this market form, in which a few giant firms dominate a particular market, innovation has replaced price as the name of the game in a number of important industries.”).

[191] Two-sided markets connect distinct sets of users whose demands for the platform are interdependent—i.e., consumers’ demand for a platform increases as more products are available and, conversely, sellers’ demand for a platform increases as additional consumers use the platform, increasing the overall potential for transactions. These network effects can be direct (more consumers on one side attract more consumers on the same side), or indirect (more consumers on one side attract more consumers on the other side). See Bruno Jullien, Alessandro Pavan, & Marc Rysman, Two-Sided Markets, Pricing and Network Effects, 4 Handbook of Industrial Organization 485, 487 (2021)(“A central aspect of platform economics is the role of network effects, which apply when a product is valued based on the extent to which other market participants adopt or use the same product”); OECD Policy Roundtables, Two-Sided Markets 11 (Dec. 17, 2009), available at

[192] Art. 14 DMA establishes a duty to report mergers that would ordinarily fall under the relevant EU merger-control rules threshold. Art. 18(2) also empowers the Commission to prohibit gatekeepers from entering into future concentrations concerning core platform services or any digital products or services, in cases where gatekeepers have engaged in “systematic non-compliance.” Systemic noncompliance occurs when a gatekeeper receives as few as three noncompliance decisions within eight years (Art. 18(3)); S. 55 of the DMCC mandates companies with SMS to notify certain mergers, even though the UK does not have a compulsory notification regime.

[193] For a tongue-in-cheek remark, see Herbert Hovenkamp (@Sherman1890), Twitter (Jan. 15, 2024, 7:22 AM),; see also Robert Armstrong & Ethan Wu, What Big Tech Antitrust Gets Wrong, An Interview with Herbert Hovenkamp, Financial Times (Jan. 19, 2024), (“With Big Tech, we’re looking at probably the most productive part of the economy. The rate of innovation is high. They spend a lot of money on R&D. They are among the largest patent holders. There’s very little evidence of collusion. They seem to be competing with each other quite strongly. They pay their workers relatively well and have fairly educated workforces. None of this is a sign that these are industries we should be pursuing. That doesn’t mean they don’t do some anti-competitive things. But the whole idea that we should be targeting Big Tech strikes me as fundamentally wrong-headed”). It should be noted that Hovenkamp’s comment is made within the context of antitrust law. But the general sentiment about the unique hostility of certain regulators and legislatures toward certain tech companies could be extrapolated, mutatis mutandis, to digital competition regulation, especially with respect to the competition-oriented elements of DCRs (see Section II).

[194] See also Dirk Auer & Geoffrey Manne, Antitrust Dystopia and Antitrust Nostalgia: Alarmist Theories of Harm in Digital Markets and their Origins, 28(4) Geo. Mason L. Rev. 1279 (2023),

[195] Oles Andriychuk, Do DMA Obligations for Gatekeepers Create Entitlements for Business Users?, 11 Journal of Antitrust Enforcement 123 (2022) (Referring to the DMA as “punitive” and “interventionist,” and suggesting that exceptionally demanding obligations are put in place to slow down gatekeepers). See also at 127 (“the means for allowing the second-tier ersatz-Big Tech to scale up is punitive: to slow down the current gatekeepers by imposing upon them a catalogue of exceptionally demanding obligations”) and at 131 (“This punitive nature of the DMA also means that the obligations can be blatantly arduous and interventionist”) (emphasis added).

[196] DMA, Art. 7(9). There is also a limited exemption in which the gatekeeper can show that, due to exceptional circumstances beyond its control, complying with the obligations of the DMA endangers the economic viability of its operation in the EU. DMA, Art. 9(1).

[197] Id. (“…provided that such measures are strictly necessary and proportionate and are duly justified by the gatekeeper”) (emphasis added).

[198] Digital Markets Regulation Handbook, Cleary Gottlieb (Thomas Graf, et al., eds. 2022), 59,

[199] See Digital Platform Services Inquiry, supra note 18 at § 7.2.4.

[200] Id. at 123 (emphasis added).

[201] German Competition Act, supra note 50 at Art. 19a(7).

[202] As discussed in Section II, “material harm to competition” already establishes a lower (but also fundamentally different) threshold for the plaintiff than the standard typically applied in antitrust law, as it implies a showing of harm to competitors, rather than to competition.

[203] Cleary Gottlieb, supra note 162 at 76.

[204] DMCC at S. 29; see also, A New Pro-Competition Regime for Digital Markets: Advice for the Digital Markets Taskforce section 4.40, CMA (2020), available at (“Conduct which may in some circumstances be harmful, in others may be permissible or desirable as it produces sufficient countervailing benefits”).

[205] Auer, Lesh, & Radic, supra note 128.

[206] Id.

[207] Id.

[208] This is implied by the fact such an exemption arises only in S. 29, which concerns investigations into breaches of conduct requirements.

[209] PL 2768, supra note 32 at Art. 11.

[210] As discussed in Section I, PL 2768 pursues a multiplicity of goals, and there is no telling how much weight would be afforded to consumer protection under Art. 10.

[211] There is some evidence that this has already happened with Google and Google Maps. See Edith Hancock, “Severe Pain in the Butt”: EU’s Digital Competition Rules Make New Enemies on the Internet, Politico (Mar. 25 2024), (“Before [the DMA], users could search for a location on Google by simply clicking on the Google Map link to expand it and navigate it easily. That feature doesn’t work in the same way in Europe anymore and users are irritated.”).

[212] For the importance of interbrand competition between closed and open platforms, see ICLE Brief for the 9th Circuit in Epic Games v. Apple, No. 21-16695 (9th Cir.), ID: 12409936, Dkt Entry: 98, Int’l. Ctr. for Law & Econ. (Mar. 31, 2022), See also id. at 26 (“Even if an open platform led to more apps and IAP options for all consumers, some consumers may be better off as a result and others may be worse off. More vigilant users may avoid downloading apps and using IAP systems that are unreliable or which impose invasive data-sharing obligations, but less vigilant users will fall prey to malware, spyware, and other harmful content invited by an open system. The upshot is, “a more competitive market may be better at delivering to vigilant consumers what they want, but may end up exploiting more vulnerable consumers”). See also Mark Armstrong, Interactions Between Competition and Consumer Policy, Competition Policy International (2008),

[213] Robert Pitofsky, The Political Content of Antitrust, 127 Penn. L. Rev. 1051, 1058 (1979).

[214] See, generally, Christopher Decker, Modern Economic Regulation (2014).

[215] In the context of the DMCC, see Auer, Lesh, & Radic, supra note 128.

[216] Pinar Akman, Regulating Competition in Digital Platform Markets: A Critical Assessment of the Framework and Approach of the EU Digital Markets Act, 47(1) European Law Review 85, 110 (2023) ( “The description of “(un)fairness” as provided for in the DMA cannot be said to improve upon the position of the concept in competition law, as it, too, relies on an assessment that is ultimately subjective and involves a value judgement”). See also id. at n. 134 (“This is because it involves establishing what counts as an ‘imbalance of rights and obligations’ on the business users of a gatekeeper and what counts as an ‘advantage’ obtained by the gatekeeper from its business users that is ‘disproportionate’ to the service provided by the gatekeeper to its business users’; see DMA (n 2) Article 10(2)(a) DMA. On the vagueness of the ‘fairness’ concept embodied in the DMA from an economics perspective, see also Monopolkommission (n 38) [23].”). The report Akman references is: Recommendations for an Effective and Efficient Digital Markets Act, Special Report 82, Monopolkommission (2021),

[217] On the in-app payment commission being a legitimate way to recoup investments, see ICLE Brief in Epic Games v. Apple, supra note 177.

[218] Giuseppe Colangelo, In Fairness we (Should Not) Trust. The Duplicity of the EU Competition Policy Mantra in Digital Markets, 68 Antitrust Bulletin 618, 622 (2023) (“Despite its appealing features, fairness appears a subjective and vague moral concept, hence useless as a tool in decisionmaking”).

[219] As an example, Chapter III of the DMA is appropriately entitled: “Practices of Gatekeepers that Limit Contestability or are Unfair.” The chapter sets out practices that are, by definition, unfair.

[220] Distributing Dating Apps in the Netherlands, Apple Developer Support, (last visited Mar. 10, 2024),

[221] Press Release, Apple Announces Changes to IOS, Safari, and the App Store in the European Union, Apple Inc. (Jan. 25, 2024),

[222] Adam Kovacevich has referred to this as the “Stalter and Waldorf” problem. See, supra note 125.

[223] Trinko at 407 (2003) (“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 […] Firms may acquire monopoly power by establishing an infrastructure that renders them uniquely suited to serve their customers […] Enforced sharing also requires antitrust courts to act as central planners, identifying the proper price, quantity, and other terms of dealing—a role for which they are ill-suited”); see also Brian Albrecht, Imposed Final Offer Arbitration: Price Regulation by Any Other Name, Truth on the Market (Dec. 7, 2022),

[224] See, ICLE Brief in Epic Games v. Apple, supra note 174 (“In essence, Epic is trying to recast its objection to Apple’s 30% commission for use of Apple’s optional IAP system as a harm to consumers and competition more broadly”); on a similar trend in antitrust that we believe is even more relevant in the context of DCRs, see Jonathan Barnett, Antitrustifying Contract: Thoughts on Epic Games v. Apple and Apple v. Qualcomm, Truth on the Market (Oct. 26 2020)

[225] Andriychuk, supra note 159.

[226] See also Ohlhausen & Taladay supra note 69.

[227] United States v. Aluminum Co. of America, 148 F.2d 416, 430 (2d Cir. 1945).

[228] Decker, supra note 176.

[229] Many companies vertically integrate to have the ability to preference their own downstream or upstream products or services. See generally Eric Fruits, Geoffrey Manne, & Kristian Stout, The Fatal Economic Flaws of the Contemporary Campaign Against Vertical Integration, 68 Kan. L. Rev. 5 (2020),; Sam Bowman & Geoffrey Manne, Tl;DR: Self-Preferencing: Building an Ecosystem, Int’l. Ctr. for Law & Econ. (Jul. 21, 2020).

[230]Decker, supra note 176 at 190-1.

[231] Aldous Huxley, Point Counter Point (1928).

[232] As discussed, these ideas are, at least to some extent, redolent of the neo-Brandeisian school of thought in the United States and ordoliberalism in Europe. See e.g., Joseph Coniglio, Why the “New Brandeis Movement Gets Antitrust Wrong, Law360 (Apr. 24, 2018), (“The [neo-Brandeisian movement] is not a new entrant in the marketplace of ideas”); see also Daniel Crane, How Much Brandeis Do the Neo-Brandeisians Want?, 64 Antitrust Bulletin 4 (2019).

[233] See, e.g., Rupprecht Podszun, Philipp Bongartz, & Sarah Langenstein, Proposals on How to Improve the Digital Markets Act, 3, (Feb. 18, 2021), (“Critics who wish to place the tool into the realm of competition law miss the point that this is a fundamentally different approach”).

[234] In the EU, for example, the DMA was proposed on the basis of Article 114 TFEU, rather than Article 352 TFEU. The consequence is that, for the purpose of EU law, the DMA is considered internal market regulation, rather than competition legislation. It has been argued that Article 352 TFEU, or Article 114 TFEU in conjunction with Article 103 TFEU, would have been the more appropriate legal mechanism. See, e.g., Alfonso Lamadrid de Pablo & Nieves Bayón Fernández, Why the Proposed DMA Might be Illegal Under Article 114 TFEU, and How to Fix It, 12 J. Competition L. & Prac. 7, (2021). One reason why the Commission might have preferred to use Art.114 TFEU over Art.352 TFEU is that the process under Art.114 TFEU is less cumbersome. Unlike Art. 114 TFEU, Article 352 TFEU requires unanimity among EU member states and would not enable the European Parliament to function as co-legislator. Alfonso Lamadrid de Pablo, The Key to Understand the Digital Markets Act: It’s the Legal Basis, Chilling Competition (Dec. 03, 2020),

[235] The term is used often in the literature and media. For an example of the former, see William Davies & Nicholas Gane, Post-Neoliberalism? An Introduction, 38 Theory, Culture & Soc’y 3 (2021); for an example of the latter, see Rana Fohar, The New Rules for Business in a Post-Neoliberal World, Financial Times (Oct. 9, 2022),

[236] Thomas Biebricher and Frieder Vogelmann have used the term in describing the views of ordoliberals on the role of the market and the state. Thomas Biebricher and Frieder Vogelmann, The Birth of Austerity: German Ordoliberalism and Contemporary Neoliberalism, 138-139 (2017).

[237] Davies and Gane, supra note 198 at 1 (“While events of 2020–21 have facilitated new forms of privatization of many public services and goods, they also signal, potentially, a break from the neoliberal orthodoxies of the previous four decades, and, in particular, from their overriding concern for the market”); see also Edward Luce, It’s the End of Globalism As We Know It, Financial Times (May 8, 2020), (“The past 40 years have been predicated on a complex system of neoliberalism that is slowly but surely coming undone, but as of yet, we don’t have any global replacement”); Paolo Gerbaudo, A Post-Neoliberal Paradigm is Emerging: Conversation with Felicia Wong, El Pais (Nov. 4, 2022),

[238] Zephyr Teachout, The Death of the Consumer Welfare Standard, ProMarket (Nov. 07, 2023),

[239] After Hillary Clinton lost the 2016 U.S. presidential election to Donald Trump, Barack Obama referred to history and progress in the United States as zig-zagging, rather than moving in a straight line. See, Statement by the President, White House Office of the Press Secretary (Nov. 09, 2016),

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

Against the ‘Europeanization’ of California’s Antitrust Law

Regulatory Comments We are grateful for the opportunity to respond to the California Law Revision Commission’s Study of Antitrust Law with these comments on the Single-Firm Conduct . . .

We are grateful for the opportunity to respond to the California Law Revision Commission’s Study of Antitrust Law with these comments on the Single-Firm Conduct Working Group’s report (the “Expert Report”).[1]

The International Center for Law & Economics (ICLE) is a nonprofit, nonpartisan global research and policy center based in Portland, Oregon. ICLE was founded with the goal of building the intellectual foundations for sensible, economically grounded policy. ICLE promotes the use of law & economics methodologies to inform public-policy debates, and has longstanding expertise in the evaluation of competition law and policy. ICLE’s interest is to ensure that competition law remains grounded in clear rules, established precedents, a record of evidence, and sound economic analysis.[2]

I. Introduction

The urge to treat antitrust as a legal Swiss Army knife—capable of correcting all manner of economic and social ills—is difficult to resist. Conflating size with market power, and market power with political power, recent calls for regulation of large businesses are often framed in antitrust terms, although they rarely are rooted in cognizable legal claims or sound economic analysis.

But precisely because antitrust is such a powerful regulatory tool, we should be cautious about its scope, process, and economics, as well as its politicization. For the last 50 or so years, U.S. law has maintained a position of relative restraint in the face of novel, ambiguous conduct, while many other jurisdictions (particularly the European Union) have tended to read uncertainty as the outward expression of a lurking threat. This has led to a sharp policy divergence in the area of competition policy, with the EU passing the Digital Markets Act,[3] while the United States has, to date, continued to rely on tried-and-tested principles crafted by courts over years on a case-by-case basis.

Despite—or perhaps because of—this divergence, many advocates of more aggressive antitrust intervention assert that the United States or individual states should emulate the EU’s approach. This disposition underpins much of the California Law Review Commission’s Report on Single Firm Conduct.[4] Despite some reassuring conclusions—such as the recognition that “protecting competing businesses, even at the expense of consumers and workers” would not “provide a good model for California”[5]—the policies that the report proposes would significantly broaden California antitrust law, bringing it much closer to the European model of competition enforcement than the U.S. one.

Unfortunately, this European-inspired approach to competition policy is unlikely to serve the interests of California consumers. As explained below, the European model of competition enforcement has at least three features that tend to chill efficient business conduct, with few competitive benefits in return (relative to the U.S. approach).

A. ‘Precautionary Principle’ vs Error-Cost Framework

Differentiating pro- from anticompetitive conduct has always been the central challenge of antitrust. When the very same conduct can either benefit or harm consumers, depending on complex and often unknowable circumstances, the potential cost of overenforcement is at least as substantial as the cost of underenforcement.

The U.S. Supreme Court has repeatedly recognized that the cost of “false positive” errors might be greater than those attributable to “false negatives” because, in the words of Judge Frank Easterbrook, “the economic system corrects monopoly more readily than it corrects judicial errors.”[6] The EU’s “precautionary principle” approach is the antithesis of this. It is rooted in a belief that markets are generally unlikely to function well, and certainly are not better at mitigating harm than technocratic regulatory intervention.

The key question is whether, given the limits of knowledge and the errors that such limits may engender, consumers are better off with a more discretionary regime or one in which enforcement is limited to causes of action that policymakers are fairly certain will serve consumer interests. This is a question about changes at the margin, but it is far from marginal in its significance. As we explain below, the U.S. approach to antitrust law performs better in this respect. Departing from it would not benefit California consumers.

B. Presumptions vs Effects-Based Analysis

EU antitrust rests heavily on presumptions of harm, while U.S. courts require plaintiffs to demonstrate that the conduct at-issue actually has anticompetitive effects.

Crucially, the U.S. approach is more consistent with learnings from modern economics, which almost universally counsel against presuming competitive harm on the basis of industry structure and, in particular, in favor of presuming benefit from vertical conduct. Indeed, the EU approach often disregards these findings and presumes the contrary. As evidenced by its recent Intel decision, even the EU’s highest court has finally recognized the paucity of the European Commission’s analysis in this area. But because judicial review of antitrust decisions in the EU is so attenuated, it is not clear if the high court’s admonition will actually affect the Commission’s approach in any substantial way.

California policymakers would be wrong to emulate the European model by introducing more presumptions to California antitrust law.

C. Extraction of Rents vs Extension of Monopoly

U.S. monopolization law prohibits only predatory or exclusionary conduct that results in harm to consumers. The EU, by contrast, also regularly punishes the mere possession of monopoly power, even where lawfully obtained. Indeed, the EU goes so far as to target companies that may lack monopoly power, but merely possess an innovative and successful business model. For example, in actions involving companies ranging from soda manufacturers to digital platforms, the EU repeatedly has required essential-facilities-style access to companies’ private property for less-successful rivals.

As we explain below, the Expert Report essentially calls on California lawmakers to replicate the European model by seeking to protect even those competitors that are less efficient, thus challenging the very existence of legitimately earned monopolies. Unfortunately, this approach would diminish the incentives to create successful businesses in the first place. Such an outcome would be particularly unfortunate for California, which is host to arguably the most vibrant startup ecosystem in the world.

D. The Danger of the European Approach

In endorsing the European approach to antitrust in order to justify high-profile cases against large firms, California would effectively be prioritizing political expediency over the rule of law and consumer well-being.

The risk of an EU-like approach in California is that it would thwart technological progress and enshrine mediocrity. This is particularly true in the digital economy, where innovative practices with positive welfare effects—such as building efficient networks or improving products and services as technologies and consumer preferences evolve—are often the subject of demagoguery, especially from inefficient firms looking for a regulatory leg up.

While advocates for a more European approach to antitrust assert that their proposals would improve economic conditions in California (and the United States, more generally), economic logic and the available evidence suggest otherwise, especially in technology markets.

Once antitrust is expanded beyond its economic constraints, it ceases to be a uniquely valuable tool to address real economic harms to consumers, and becomes instead a tool for evading legislative and judicial constraints. This is hardly the promotion of democratic ideals that proponents of a more EU-like regime claim to desire.

In the following sections, we expand upon these distinctions between EU and U.S. law and explain how elements of the Expert Report’s analysis and proposed statutory language would shift California’s antitrust law toward the EU model in problematic ways. We urge the California Law Revision Commission to consider not just whether emulating the EU approach would permit the state to reach a preconceived outcome—i.e., placing large firms under increased antitrust scrutiny—but whether doing so would ultimately benefit California and its consumers.

II. The EU ‘Precautionary Principle’ Approach vs the US Error-Cost Framework

The U.S. Supreme Court has repeatedly recognized the limitations that courts face in distinguishing between pro- and anticompetitive conduct in antitrust cases, and particularly the risk this creates of reaching costly false-positive (Type I) decisions in monopolization cases.[7] As the Court has noted with respect to the expansion of liability for single-firm conduct, in particular:

Against the slight benefits of antitrust intervention here, we must weigh a realistic assessment of its costs…. Mistaken inferences and the resulting false condemnations “are especially costly because they chill the very conduct the antitrust laws are designed to protect.” The cost of false positives counsels against an undue expansion of § 2 liability.[8]

The Court has also expressed the view—originally laid out in Judge Frank Easterbrook’s seminal article “The Limits of Antitrust”—that the costs to consumers arising from Type I errors are likely greater than those attributable to Type II errors, because “the economic system corrects monopoly more readily than it corrects judicial errors.”[9]

The EU’s more “precautionary” approach to antitrust policy is the antithesis of this.[10] It is rooted in a belief that markets do not—or, more charitably, are unlikely to—function well in general, and certainly not sufficiently to self-correct in the face of monopolization.

While the precautionary principle may generally prevent certain fat-tailed negative events,[11] these potential benefits come, almost by definition, at the expense of short-term growth.[12] Adopting a precautionary approach is thus a costly policy stance in those circumstances where it is not clearly warranted by underlying risk and uncertainty. This is an essential issue for a state like California, whose economy is so reliant on the continued growth and innovation of its vibrant startup ecosystem.

While it is impossible to connect broad macroeconomic trends conclusively to specific policy decisions, it does seem clear that Europe’s overarching precautionary approach to economic regulation has not served it well.[13] In that environment, the EU’s economic performance has fallen significantly behind that of the United States.[14] “[I]n 2010 US GDP per capita was 47 percent larger than the EU while in 2021 this gap increased to 82 percent. If the current trend of GDP per capita carries forward, in 2035, the average GDP per capita in the US will be $96,000 while the average EU GDP per capita will be $60,000.”[15]

Of course, no one believes that markets are perfect, or that antitrust enforcement can never be appropriate. The question is the marginal, comparative one: Given the realities of politics, economics, the limits of knowledge, and the errors to which they can lead, which imperfect response is preferable at the margin? Or, phrased slightly differently, should we give California antitrust enforcers and private plaintiffs more room to operate, or should we continue to cabin their operation in careful, economically grounded ways, aimed squarely at optimizing—not minimizing—the extent of antitrust enforcement?

This may be a question about changes at the margin, but it is far from marginal. It goes to the heart of the market’s role in the modern economy.

While there are many views on this subject, arguments that markets have failed us in ways that more antitrust would correct are poorly supported.[16] We should certainly continue to look for conditions where market failures of one kind or another may justify intervention, but we should not make policy on the basis of mere speculation. And we should certainly not do so without considering the likelihood and costs of regulatory failure, as well. In order to reliably adopt a sound antitrust policy that might improve upon the status quo (which has evolved over a century of judicial decisions, generally alongside the field’s copious advances in economic understanding), we need much better information about the functioning of markets and the consequences of regulatory changes than is currently available.

To achieve this, antitrust law and enforcement policy should, above all, continue to adhere to the error-cost framework, which informs antitrust decision making by considering the relative costs of mistaken intervention compared with mistaken nonintervention.[17] Specific cases should be addressed as they come, with an implicit understanding that, especially in digital markets, precious few generalizable presumptions can be inferred from the previous case. The overall stance should be one of restraint, reflecting the state of our knowledge.[18] We may well be able to identify anticompetitive harms in certain cases, and when we do, we should enforce the current laws. But we should not overestimate our ability to finetune market outcomes without causing more harm than benefit.

Allegations that the modern antitrust regime is insufficient take as a given that there is something wrong with antitrust doctrine or its enforcement, and cast about for policy “corrections.” The common flaw with these arguments is that they are not grounded in robust empirical or theoretical support. Indeed, as one of the influential papers that (ironically) is sometimes cited to support claims for more antitrust puts it:

An alternative perspective on the rise of [large firms and increased concentration] is that they reflect a diminution of competition, due to weaker U.S. antitrust enforcement. Our findings on the similarity of trends in the United States and Europe, where antitrust authorities have acted more aggressively on large firms, combined with the fact that the concentrating sectors appear to be growing more productive and innovative, suggests that this is unlikely to be the primary explanation, although it may be important in some industries.[19]

Rather, such claims are little more than hunches that something must be wrong, conscripted to serve a presumptively interventionist agenda. Because they are merely hypotheses about things that could go wrong, they do not determine—and rarely even ask—if heightened antitrust scrutiny and increased antitrust enforcement are actually called for in the first place. The evidence strongly contradicts the basis for these hunches.

Critics of U.S. competition policy sometimes contend that markets have become more concentrated and thus less competitive.[20] But there are good reasons to be skeptical of the national-concentration and market-power data.[21] Even more importantly, the narrative that purports to find a causal relationship between these data and reduced competition is almost certainly incorrect.

Competition rarely takes place in national markets; it takes place in local markets. Recent empirical work demonstrates that national measures of concentration do not reflect market structures at the local level.[22] To the extent that national-level firm concentration may be growing, these trends are actually driving increased competition and decreased concentration at the local level, which is typically what matters for consumers:

Put another way, large firms have materially contributed to the observed decline in local concentration. Among industries with diverging trends, large firms have become bigger but the associated geographic expansion of these firms, through the opening of more plants in new local markets, has lowered local concentration thus suggesting increased local competition.[23]

The rise in national concentration is predominantly a function of more efficient firms competing in more—and more localized—markets. Thus, rising national concentration, where it is observed, is a result of increased productivity and competition that weed out less-efficient producers. Indeed, as one influential paper notes:

[C]oncentration increases do not correlate to price hikes and correspond to increased output. This implies that oligopolies are related to an offsetting and positive force—these oligopolies are likely due to technical innovation or scale economies. My data suggest that increases in market concentration are strongly correlated with innovations in productivity.[24]

Another important paper finds that this dynamic is driven by top firms bringing productivity increases to smaller markets, to the substantial (and previously unmeasured) benefit of consumers:

US firms in service industries increasingly operate in more local markets. Employment, sales, and spending on fixed costs have increased rapidly in these industries. These changes have favored top firms, leading to increasing national concentration. Top firms in service industries have grown by expanding into new local markets, predominantly small and mid-sized US cities. Market concentration at the local level has decreased in all US cities, particularly in cities that were initially small. These facts are consistent with the availability of new fixed-cost-intensive technologies that yield lower marginal costs in service sectors. The entry of top service firms into new local markets has led to substantial unmeasured productivity growth, particularly in small markets.[25]

Similar results hold for labor-market effects. According to one recent study, while the labor-market power of firms appears to have increased:

labor market power has not contributed to the declining labor share. Despite the backdrop of stable national concentration, we… find that [local labor-market concentration] has declined over the last 35 years. Most local labor markets are more competitive than they were in the 1970s.[26]

In short, it is inappropriate to draw conclusions about the strength of competition and the efficacy of antitrust laws from national-concentration measures. This is a view shared by many economists from across the political spectrum. Indeed, one of the Expert Report’s authors, Carl Shapiro, has raised these concerns regarding the national-concentration data:

[S]imply as a matter of measurement, the Economic Census data that are being used to measure trends in concentration do not allow one to measure concentration in relevant antitrust markets, i.e., for the products and locations over which competition actually occurs. As a result, it is far from clear that the reported changes in concentration over time are informative regarding changes in competition over time.[27]

It appears that overall competition is increasing, not decreasing, whether it is accompanied by an increase in national concentration or not.

A. The Expert Report’s Treatment of Error Costs

Implicitly shunning the evidence that demonstrates markets have become more, not less, competitive, the Expert Report proposes that California adopt a firm stance in favor of false positives over false negatives—in other words, that it tolerate erroneously condemning procompetitive behavior in exchange for avoiding the risk of erroneously accepting anticompetitive conduct:

Whereas the policy of California is that the public is best served by competition and the goal of the California antitrust laws is to promote and protect competition throughout the State, in interpreting this Section courts should bear in mind that the policy of California is that the risk of under-enforcement of the antitrust laws is greater than the risk of over-enforcement.[28]

Of course, it is possible that, in some markets, there are harms being missed and for which enforcers should be better equipped. But advocates of reform have yet to adequately explain much of what we need to know to make such a determination, let alone craft the right approach to it if we did. Antitrust law should be refined based on an empirical demonstration of harms, as well as a careful weighing of those harms against the losses to social welfare that would arise if procompetitive conduct were deterred alongside anticompetitive conduct.

Dramatic new statutes to undo decades of antitrust jurisprudence or reallocate burdens of proof with the stroke of a pen are unjustified. Suggesting, as the Expert Report does, that antitrust law should simply “err on the side of enforcement when the effect of the conduct at issue on competition is uncertain”[29] is an unsupported statement of a political preference, not one rooted in sound economics or evidence.

The primary evidence adduced to support the claim that underenforcement (and thus, the risk of Type II errors) is more significant than overenforcement (and thus, the risk of Type I errors) is that there are not enough cases brought and won. But even if superficially true, this is, on its own, just as consistent with a belief that the regime is functioning well as it is with a belief that it is functioning poorly. Indeed, as one of the Expert Report’s authors has pointed out:

Antitrust law [] has a widespread effect on business conduct throughout the economy. Its principal value is found, not in the big litigated cases, but in the multitude of anticompetitive actions that do not occur because they are deterred by the antitrust laws, and in the multitude of efficiency-enhancing actions that are not deterred by an overbroad or ambiguous antitrust.[30]

At the same time, some critics (including another of the Expert Report’s authors) contend that a heightened concern for Type I errors stems from a faulty concern that “type two errors… are not really problematic because the market itself will correct the situation,” instead asserting that “it is economically naïve to assume that markets will naturally tend toward competition.”[31]

Judge Easterbrook’s famous argument for enforcement restraint is not based on the assertion that markets are perfectly self-correcting. Rather, his claim is that the (undeniable) incentive of new entrants to compete for excess profits in monopolized markets operates to limit the social costs of Type II errors more effectively than the legal system’s ability to correct or ameliorate the costs of Type I errors. The logic is quite simple, and not dependent on the strawman notion that markets are perfect:

If the court errs by condemning a beneficial practice, the benefits may be lost for good. Any other firm that uses the condemned practice faces sanctions in the name of stare decisis, no matter the benefits. If the court errs by permitting a deleterious practice, though, the welfare loss decreases over time. Monopoly is self-destructive. Monopoly prices eventually attract entry. True, this long run may be a long time coming, with loss to society in the interim. The central purpose of antitrust is to speed up the arrival of the long run. But this should not obscure the point: judicial errors that tolerate baleful practices are self-correcting while erroneous condemnations are not.[32]

Moreover, anticompetitive conduct that is erroneously excused may be subsequently corrected, either by another enforcer, a private litigant, or another jurisdiction. Ongoing anticompetitive behavior will tend to arouse someone’s ire: competitors, potential competitors, customers, input suppliers. That means such behavior will be noticed and potentially brought to the attention of enforcers. And for the same reason—identifiable harm—it may also be actionable.

By contrast, procompetitive conduct that does not occur because it is prohibited or deterred by legal action has no constituency and no visible evidence on which to base a case for revision. Nor does a firm improperly deterred from procompetitive conduct have any standing to sue the government for erroneous antitrust enforcement, or the courts for adopting an improper standard. Of course, overenforcement can sometimes be corrected, but the institutional impediments to doing so are formidable.

The claim that concern for Type I errors is overblown further rests on the assertion that “more up-to-date economic analysis” has undermined that position.[33] But that learning is, for the most part, entirely theoretical—constrained to “possibility theorems” divorced from realistic complications and the real institutional settings of decision making. Indeed, the proliferation of these theories may actually increase, rather than decrease, uncertainty by further complicating the analysis and asking generalist judges to choose from among competing theories, without any realistic means to do so.[34]

Unsurprisingly, “[f]or over thirty years, the economics profession has produced numerous models of rational predation. Despite these models and some case evidence consistent with episodes of predation, little of this Post-Chicago School learning has been incorporated into antitrust law.”[35] Nor is it likely that the courts are making an erroneous calculation in the abstract. Evidence of Type I errors is hard to come by, but for a wide swath of conduct called into question by “Post-Chicago School” and other theories, the evidence of systematic problems is virtually nonexistent.[36]

Moreover, contrary to the Expert Report’s implications,[37] U.S. antitrust law has not ignored potentially anticompetitive harm, and courts are hardly blindly deferential to conduct undertaken by large firms. It is impossible to infer from the general “state of the world” or from perceived “wrong” judicial decisions that the current antitrust regime has failed or that California, in particular, would benefit from a wholesale shifting of its antitrust error-cost presumptions.[38]

III. The Reliance on Presumptions vs the Demonstration of Anticompetitive Effects

While U.S. antitrust law generally requires a full-blown, effects-based analysis of challenged behavior—particularly in the context of unilateral conduct (monopolization or abuse of dominance) and vertical restraints—the EU continues to rely heavily on presumptions of harm or extremely truncated analysis. Even the EU’s highest court has finally recognized the paucity of the European Commission’s analysis in this area in its recent Intel decision.[39]

The degree to which the United States and EU differ with respect to their reliance on presumptions in antitrust cases is emblematic of a broader tendency of the U.S. regime to adhere to economic principles, while the EU tends to hold such principles in relative disregard. The U.S. approach is consistent with learnings from modern economics, which almost universally counsel against presuming competitive harm on the basis of industry structure—particularly from the extent of concentration in a market. Indeed, as one of the Expert Report’s own authors has argued, “there is no well-defined ‘causal effect of concentration on price,’ but rather a set of hypotheses that can explain observed correlations of the joint outcomes of price, measured markups, market share, and concentration.”[40]

Concerns about excessive concentration are at the forefront of current efforts to expand antitrust enforcement, including through the use of presumptions. There is no reliable empirical support for claims either that concentration has been increasing, or that it necessarily leads to, or has led to, increased market power and the economic harms associated with it.[41] There is even less support for claims that concentration leads to the range of social ills ascribed to it by advocates of “populist” antitrust. Similarly, there is little evidence that the application of antitrust or related regulation to more vigorously prohibit, shrink, or break up large companies will correct these asserted problems.

Meanwhile, economic theory, empirical evidence, and experience all teach that vertical restraints—several of which would be treated more harshly under the Expert Report’s recommendations[42]—rarely harm competition. Indeed, they often benefit consumers by reducing costs, better distributing risk, better informing and optimizing R&D activities and innovation, better aligning manufacturer and distributor incentives, lowering price, increasing demand through the inducement of more promotional services, and/or creating more efficient distribution channels.

As the former Federal Trade Commission (FTC) Bureau of Economics Director Francine Lafontaine explained in summarizing the body of economic evidence analyzing vertical restraints: “it appears that when manufacturers choose to impose [vertical] restraints, not only do they make themselves better off but they also typically allow consumers to benefit from higher quality products and better service provision.”[43] A host of other studies corroborate this assessment.[44] As one of these notes, while “some studies find evidence consistent with both pro- and anticompetitive effects… virtually no studies can claim to have identified instances where vertical practices were likely to have harmed competition.”[45] Similarly, “in most of the empirical studies reviewed, vertical practices are found to have significant pro-competitive effects.”[46]

At the very least, we remain profoundly uncertain of the effects of vertical conduct (particularly in the context of modern high-tech and platform industries), with the proviso that most of what we know suggests that this conduct is good for consumers. But even that worst-case version of our state of knowledge is inconsistent with the presumptions-based approach taken by the EU.

Adopting a presumptions-based approach without a firm economic basis is far more hostile to novel business conduct, especially in the innovative markets that distinguish California’s economy. EU competition policy errs on the side of condemning novel conduct, deterring beneficial business activities where consumers would be better served if authorities instead tried to better understand them. This is not something California should emulate.

A. The Expert Report’s Quantification of Anticompetitive Harm and Causation

European competition law imposes a much less strenuous burden on authorities to quantify anticompetitive harm and establish causation than does U.S. law. This makes European competition law much more prone to false positives that condemn efficiency-generating or innovative firm behavior. The main cause of these false positives is the failure of the EU’s “competitive process” standard to separate competitive from anticompetitive exclusionary conduct.

While the Expert Report rightly recognizes that adopting an abuse-of-dominance standard (similar to that which exists in Europe) would be misguided, its proposed focus on “competitive constraints,” rather than consumer welfare, would effectively bring California antitrust enforcement much closer to the EU model.[47]

At the same time, the Expert Report counsels adopting a “material-risk-of-harm” standard, which is foreign to U.S. antitrust law:

(e) Anticompetitive exclusionary conduct includes conduct that has or had a material risk of harming trading partners due to increased market power, even if those harms have not yet arisen and may not materialize.[48]

While such a standard exists in U.S. standing jurisprudence,[49] antitrust plaintiffs (and private plaintiffs, in particular) must typically meet a higher bar to prove actual antitrust injury.[50] Moreover, the focus is generally on output restriction, rather than the risk of “harm” to a trading partner:

The government must show conduct that reasonably seems capable of causing reduced output and increased prices by excluding a rival. The private plaintiff must additionally show an actual effect producing an injury in order to support a damages action or individually threatened harm to support an injunction. The required private effect could be either a higher price which it paid, or lost profits from market exclusion.[51]

Again, this is a fairly concrete application of the error-cost framework: Lowering the standard of proof required to establish liability increases the risk of false positives and decreases the risk of false negatives. But particularly in California—where so much of the state’s economic success is built on industries characterized by large companies with substantial procompetitive economies of scale and network effects, novel business models, and immense technological innovation—the risk of erroneous condemnation is substantial, and the potential costs significant.

Further, defining antitrust harm in terms of “conduct [that] tends to… diminish or create a meaningful risk of diminishing the competitive constraints imposed by the defendant’s rivals”[52] opens the door substantially to the risk that procompetitive conduct could be enjoined. For example, such an approach would seem at odds with the concept of antitrust injury for private plaintiffs established by the Supreme Court’s Brunswick case.[53] “Competitive constraints” may “tend” to be reduced, as in Brunswick, by perfectly procompetitive conduct; enshrining such a standard would not serve California’s economic interests.

Similarly, the Expert Report’s proposed statutory language includes a provision that would infer not only causation but also the existence of harm from ambiguous conduct:

5) In cases where the trading partners are customers…, it is not necessary for the plaintiff to specify the precise nature of the harm that might be experienced in the future or to quantify with specificity any particular past harm. It is sufficient for the plaintiff to establish a significant weakening of the competitive constraints facing the defendant, from which such harms to direct or indirect customers can be presumed.[54]

The Microsoft case similarly held that plaintiffs need not quantify injury with specificity because “neither plaintiffs nor the court can confidently reconstruct a product’s hypothetical technological development in a world absent the defendant’s exclusionary conduct.”[55] But Microsoft permits the inference only of causation in such circumstances, not the existence of anticompetitive conduct. Most of the decision was directed toward identifying and assessing the anticompetitiveness of the alleged conduct. Inference is permitted only with respect to causation—to the determination that such conduct was reasonably likely to lead to harm by excluding specific (potential) competitors. Establishing merely a “weakening of the competitive constraints facing the defendant,” by contrast, does not permit an inference of anticompetitiveness.

Such an approach is much closer to the European standard of maintaining a system of “undistorted competition.” European authorities generally operate under the assumption that “competitive” market structures ultimately lead to better outcomes for consumers.[56] This contrasts with American antitrust enforcement which, by pursuing a strict consumer-welfare goal, systematically looks at the actual impact of a practice on economic parameters, such as prices and output.

In other words, European competition enforcement assumes that concentrated market structures likely lead to poor outcomes and thus sanctions them, whereas U.S. antitrust law looks systematically into the actual effects of a practice. The main consequence of this distinction is that, compared to the United states, European competition law has established a wider set of per se prohibitions (which are not discussed in the Expert Report) and sets a lower bar for plaintiffs to establish the existence of anticompetitive conduct (which the Expert Report recommends California policymakers emulate).[57] Because of this lower evidentiary threshold, EU competition decisions are also subject to less-stringent judicial review.

The EU’s competitive-process standard is similar to the structuralist analysis that was popular in the United States through the middle of the 20th century. This view of antitrust led U.S. enforcers frequently to condemn firms merely for growing larger than some arbitrary threshold, even when those firms engaged in conduct that, on net, benefited consumers. While EU enforcers often claim to be pursuing a consumer-welfare standard, and to adhere to rigorous economic analysis in their antitrust cases,[58] much of their actual practice tends to engage in little more than a window-dressed version of the outmoded structuralist analysis that U.S. scholars, courts, and enforcers roundly rejected in the latter half of the 20th century.

To take one important example, a fairly uncontroversial requirement for antitrust intervention is that a condemned practice should actually—or be substantially likely to—foster anticompetitive harm. Even in Europe, whatever other goals competition law is presumed to further, it is nominally aimed at protecting competition rather than competitors.[59] Accordingly, the mere exit of competitors from the market should be insufficient to support liability under European competition law in the absence of certain accompanying factors.[60] And yet, by pursuing a competitive-process goal, European competition authorities regularly conflate desirable and undesirable forms of exclusion precisely on the basis of their effect on competitors.

As a result, the Commission routinely sanctions exclusion that stems from an incumbent’s superior efficiency rather than from welfare-reducing strategic behavior,[61] and routinely protects inefficient competitors that would otherwise rightly be excluded from a market. As Pablo Ibanez Colomo puts it:

It is arguably more convincing to question whether the principle whereby dominant firms are under a general duty not to discriminate is in line with the logic and purpose of competition rules. The corollary to the idea that it is prima facie abusive to place rivals at a disadvantage is that competition must take place, as a rule, on a level playing field. It cannot be disputed that remedial action under EU competition law will in some instances lead to such an outcome.[62]

Unfortunately, the Expert Report’s repeated focus on diminished “competitive constraints” as the touchstone for harm may (perhaps unintentionally) even enable courts to impose liability for harm to competitors caused by procompetitive conduct. For example, the Expert Report would permit a determination that:

[C]onduct tends to… diminish or create a meaningful risk of diminishing the competitive constraints… [if it] tends to (i) increase barriers to entry or expansion by those rivals, (ii) cause rivals to lower their quality-adjusted output or raise their quality-adjusted price, or (iii) reduce rivals’ incentives to compete against the defendant.[63]

But market exit is surely an example of a reduced incentive to compete, even if it results from a rival’s intense (and consumer-welfare-enhancing) competition. Depending on how “barrier to entry” is defined, innovation, product improvement, and vertical integration by a defendant—even when they are procompetitive—all could constitute a barrier to entry by forcing rivals to incur greater costs or compete in multiple markets. Similarly, increased productivity resulting in less demand for labor or other inputs or lower wages could enable a “defendant [to] profitably make a less attractive offer to that supplier or worker… than the defendant could absent that conduct,”[64] even though the increase in market power in that case would be beneficial.[65]

It is true that the Expert Report elsewhere notes that “it is sometimes difficult for courts to distinguish between anticompetitive exclusionary conduct, which is illegal, from competition on the merits, which is legal even if it weakens rivals or drives them out of business altogether.”[66] Thus, it is perhaps unintentional that the report’s proposed language could nevertheless support liability in such circumstances. At the very least, California should not adopt the Expert Report’s proposed language without a clear disclaimer that liability will never be based on “diminished competitive constraints” resulting from consumer-welfare-enhancing conduct or vigorous competition by the defendant.

IV. Penalizing the Existence of Monopolies vs Prohibiting Only the Extension of Monopoly Power

While U.S. monopolization law prohibits only predatory or exclusionary conduct that results in both the unlawful acquisition or maintenance of monopoly power and the creation of net harm to consumers, the EU also punishes the mere exercise of monopoly power—that is, the charging of allegedly “excessive” prices by dominant firms (or the use of “exploitative” business terms). Thus, the EU is willing to punish the mere extraction of rents by a lawfully obtained dominant firm, while the United States punishes only the unlawful extension of market power.

There may be multiple reasons for this difference, including the EU’s particular history with state-sponsored monopolies and its unique efforts to integrate its internal market. Whatever the reason, the U.S. approach, unlike the EU’s, is grounded in a concern for minimizing error costs—not in order to protect monopolists or large companies, but to protect the consumers who benefit from more dynamic markets, more investment, and more innovation:

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. To safeguard the incentive to innovate, the possession of monopoly power will not be found unlawful unless it is accompanied by an element of anticompetitive conduct.[67]

At the same time, the U.S. approach mitigates the serious risk of simply getting it wrong. This is incredibly likely where, for example, “excessive” prices are in the eye of the beholder and are extremely difficult to ascertain econometrically.

This unfortunate feature of EU competition enforcement would likely be, at least in part, replicated under the reforms proposed by the Expert Report. Indeed, the report’s focus on the welfare of “trading partners”—and particularly its focus on trading-partner welfare, regardless of whether perceived harm is passed on to consumers—comes dangerously close to the EU’s preoccupation with reducing the rents captured by monopolists.[68] While the Expert Report does not recommend an “excessive pricing” theory of harm—like the one that exists in the EU—it does echo the EU’s fixation on the immediate fortunes of trading partners (other than consumers) in ways that may ultimately lead to qualitatively equivalent results.

V. The Emulation of European Competition Law in the Expert Report’s Treatment of Specific Practices and Theories of Harm

Beyond the high-level differences discussed above, European and U.S. antitrust authorities also diverge significantly on numerous specific issues. These dissimilarities often result from the different policy goals that animate these two bodies of law. As noted, where U.S. case law is guided by an overarching goal of maximizing consumer welfare (notably, a practice’s effect on output), European competition law tends to favor structural presumptions and places a much heavier emphasis on distributional considerations. In addition, where the U.S. approach to many of these specific issues is deeply influenced by its overwhelming concern with the potentially chilling effects of intervention, this apprehension is very much foreign to European competition law. The result is often widely divergent approaches to complex economic matters in which the United States hews far more closely than does the EU to the humility and restraint suggested by economic learning.

Unfortunately, the recommendations put forward in the Expert Report would largely bring California antitrust law in line with the European approach for many theories of harm. Indeed, the Expert Report rejects the traditional U.S. antitrust-law concern with chilling procompetitive behavior, even proposing statutory language that would hold that “courts should bear in mind that the policy of California is that the risk of under-enforcement of the antitrust laws is greater than the risk of over-enforcement.”[69] Not only is this position unsupported, but it also entails an explicit rejection of a century of U.S. antitrust jurisprudence:

[U]sing language that mimics the Sherman Act would come with a potentially severe disadvantage: California state courts might then believe that they should apply 130 years of federal jurisprudence to cases brought under California state law. In recent decades, that jurisprudence has substantially narrowed the scope of the Sherman Act, as described above, so relying on it could well rob California law of the power it needs to protect competition.[70]

The evidence suggesting that competition has been poorly protected under Sherman Act jurisprudence is generally weak and unconvincing,[71] however, and the same is true for the specific theories of harm that the Expert Report would expand.

A. Predatory Pricing

Predatory pricing is one area where the Expert Report urges policymakers to copy specific rules in force in the EU. In its model statutory language, the Expert Report proposes that California establish that:

liability [for anticompetitive exclusionary conduct] does not require finding… that any price of the defendant for a product or service was below any measure of the costs to the defendant for providing the product or service…, [or] that in a claim of predatory pricing, the defendant is likely to recoup the losses it sustains from below-cost pricing of the products or services at issue[.][72]

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 be able to recoup these first-period losses.[73] In laying out its approach to predatory pricing, the Supreme Court identified the risk of false positives and the clear cost of such errors to consumers. It therefore particularly stressed the importance of the recoupment requirement because, without recoupment, “predatory pricing produces lower aggregate prices in the market, and consumer welfare is enhanced.”[74]

Accordingly, in the United States, 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 in the first place.[75] Otherwise, competitors would undercut the predator as soon as it attempts to charge supracompetitive prices to recoup its losses. In such a situation—without, that is, the strong likelihood of recouping the lost revenue from underpricing—the overwhelming weight of economic learning (to say nothing of simple logic) makes clear that predatory pricing is not a rational business strategy.[76] Thus, apparent cases of predatory pricing in the absence of the likelihood of recoupment are most likely not, in fact, predatory, and deterring or punishing them would likely actually harm consumers.

In contrast, the legal standard applied to predatory pricing in the EU is much laxer and almost certain, as a result, to risk injuring consumers. 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.[77] Even when a firm imposes prices that are between 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 competition.”[78] Most significantly, in neither case is it necessary for authorities to show that the scheme would allow the monopolist to recoup its losses.[79]

[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.[80]

By affirmatively dispensing with each of these limitations, the Expert Report effectively recommends that California legislators shift California predatory-pricing law toward the European model. Unfortunately, such a 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.[81] Indeed, strategic predatory pricing still requires some form of recoupment and the refutation of any convincing business justification offered in response.[82] As Bruce Kobayashi and Tim Muris emphasize, the introduction of new possibility theorems, particularly uncorroborated by rigorous empirical reinforcement, does not necessarily alter the implementation of the error-cost analysis:

While the Post-Chicago School literature on predatory pricing may suggest that rational predatory pricing is theoretically possible, such theories do not show that predatory pricing is a more compelling explanation than the alternative hypothesis of competition on the merits. Because of this literature’s focus on theoretical possibility theorems, little evidence exists regarding the empirical relevance of these theories. Absent specific evidence regarding the plausibility of these theories, the courts… properly ignore such theories.[83]

The case of predatory pricing illustrates a crucial distinction between European and American competition law. The recoupment requirement embodied in U.S. antitrust law essentially differentiates aggressive pricing behavior that improves consumer welfare by leading to overall price decreases from predatory pricing that reduces welfare due to ultimately higher prices. In other words, it is entirely focused on consumer welfare.

The European approach, by contrast, reflects structuralist considerations that are far removed from a concern for consumer welfare. Its underlying fear is that dominant companies could, through aggressive pricing—even to the benefit of consumers—by their very success, engender more concentrated market structures. It is simply presumed that these less-atomistic markets are invariably detrimental to consumers. Both the Tetra Pak and France Télécom cases offer clear illustrations of the European Court of Justice’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.[84]


[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.[85]

In short, the European approach leaves much less room for analysis of a pricing scheme’s concrete effects, making it much more prone to false positives than the Brooke Group standard in the United States. It 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 attempt to attract consumers with aggressive pricing schemes. There is no basis for enshrining such an approach in California law.

B. Refusals to Deal

Refusals to deal are another area where the Expert Report’s recommendations would bring California antitrust rules more in line with the EU model. The Expert Report proposes in its example statutory language that:

[L]iability… does not require finding (i) that the unilateral conduct of the defendant altered or terminated a prior course of dealing between the defendant and a person subject to the exclusionary conduct; [or] (ii) that the defendant treated persons subject to the exclusionary conduct differently than the defendant treated other persons[.][86]

The Expert Report further highlights “Discrimination Against Rivals, for example by refusing to provide rivals of the defendant access to a platform or product or service that the defendant provides to other third-parties” as a particular area of concern.[87]

U.S. and EU antitrust laws are hugely different when it comes to refusals to deal. While the United States has imposed strenuous limits on enforcement authorities or rivals seeking to bring such cases, EU competition law sets a far lower threshold for liability. The U.S. approach is firmly rooted in the error-cost framework and, in particular, the conclusion that avoiding Type I (false-positive) errors is more important than avoiding Type II (false-negative) errors. As the Supreme Court held in Trinko:

[Enforced sharing] may lessen the incentive for the monopolist, the rival, or both to invest in those economically beneficial facilities. Enforced sharing also requires antitrust courts to act as central planners, identifying the proper price, quantity, and other terms of dealing—a role for which they are ill suited.[88]

In that case, the Court was unwilling to extend the reach of Section 2, cabining it to a very narrow set of circumstances:

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.[89]

This highlights two key features of American antitrust law concerning refusals to deal. To start, U.S. antitrust law generally does not apply the “essential facilities” doctrine—indeed, as the Court held in Trinko, “we have never recognized such a doctrine.”[90] 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 the Court 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.[91] While even this is not likely to be the economically appropriate limitation on liability,[92] its impetus—ensuring that liability is found only in situations where procompetitive explanations for the challenged conduct are extremely unlikely—is 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.[93] 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.[94] Moreover, if the refusal to deal involves intellectual property, it must also prevent the appearance of a new good.[95] In practice, however, all of these conditions have been significantly relaxed by EU courts and the Commission’s decisional practice. This is best evidenced by the lower court’s Microsoft ruling. 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.[96]

Thus, EU competition law is far less concerned about its potential chilling effect on firms’ investments than is U.S. antitrust law.

The Expert Report’s wording suggests that its authors would like to see California’s antitrust rules in this area move towards the European model. This seems particularly misguided for a state that so heavily relies on continued investments in innovation.

In discussing its concerns with the state of refusal-to-deal law in the United States, the Expert Report notes that:

[E]ven a monopolist can normally choose the parties with which it will deal and [] a monopolist’s selective refusal to deal with another firm, even a competitor, violates antitrust law only in unusual circumstances…. [The Court] explained that courts are ill-equipped to determine the terms on which one firm should be required to deal with another, so a bright line is necessary to preserve the incentives of both the monopolist and the competitor to compete aggressively in the marketplace. Such a rule may have been reasonable in a setting where “dealing” often meant incurring a large fixed cost to coordinate with the other firm. In an economy containing digital “ecosystems” that connect many businesses to one another, and digital markets with standardized terms of interconnection, such as established application program interfaces (APIs), that rule may immunize much conduct that could be anticompetitive.[97]

This approach is unduly focused on the welfare of specific competitors, rather than the effects on competition and consumers. Indeed, in the Aspen Skiing case (which did find a duty to deal on the defendant’s part), the Supreme Court is clear that the assessment of harm to competitors would be insufficient to establish that a refusal to deal was anticompetitive: “The question whether Ski Co.’s conduct may properly be characterized as exclusionary cannot be answered by simply considering its effect on Highlands. In addition, it is relevant to consider its impact on consumers and whether it has impaired competition in an unnecessarily restrictive way.”[98]

The Expert Report’s additional proposal that liability should not turn on whether the defendant treated particular parties differently in exercising exclusionary conduct (including refusal to deal)[99] is a further move away from effects-based analysis and toward the European model. As Einer Elhauge has noted, there is an important distinction between unconditional and discriminatory exclusionary conduct:

Efforts to simply improve a firm’s own efficiency and win sales by selling a better or cheaper product at above-cost prices should enjoy per se legality without any general requirement to share that greater efficiency with rivals. But exclusionary conditions that discriminate on the basis of rivalry by selectively denying property or products to rivals (or buyers who deal with rivals) are not necessary to further ex ante incentives to enhance the monopolist’s efficiency, and should be illegal when they create a marketwide foreclosure that impairs rival efficiency.[100]

By arguing to impose liability regardless of whether conduct is exercised in a discriminatory fashion, the Expert Report would remove the general protection under U.S. antitrust law for unconditional refusals to deal, and would instead apply the conditional standard to all exclusionary conduct.

It seems quite likely, in fact, that this provision is proposed as a rebuke to the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals’ holding in FTC v. Qualcomm, which found no duty to deal, in part, because the challenged conduct was applied to all rivals equally.[101] At least three of the Expert Report’s authors are on record as vigorously opposing the holding in Qualcomm.[102] But far from supporting a challenge to Qualcomm’s conduct on the grounds that it harmed competition by targeting threatening rivals, the Expert Report authors’ apparent preferred approach to Qualcomm’s alleged refusal to deal was to attempt to force a wholesale change in Qualcomm’s vertically integrated business model.

In other words, the authors would find liability regardless of how Qualcomm enforces its license terms, and would prefer a legal standard that does not condition that finding on exclusionary conduct against only certain rivals. In essence, they see operating at all in the relevant market as a harm.[103] Whatever the merits of this argument in the Qualcomm case, it should not be generalized to undermine the sensible limits that U.S. antitrust has imposed on the refusal-to-deal theory of harm.

C. Vertical and Platform Restraints

Finally, the Expert Report would take a leaf out of the European book when it comes to vertical restraints, including rebates, exclusive dealing, “most favored nation” (MFN) clauses, and platform conduct. Here, again, the Expert Report singles these practices out for attention:

Loyalty Rebates, which penalize a customer that conducts more business with the defendant’s rivals, as opposed to volume discounts, which are generally procompetitive;

Exclusive Dealing Provisions, which disrupt the ability of counterparties to deal with the defendant’s rivals, especially if such provisions are widely used by the defendant;

Most-Favored Nation Clauses, which prohibit counterparties from dealing with the defendant’s rivals on more favorable terms and conditions than those on which they deal with the defendant, especially if such clauses are widely used by the defendant.[104]

There are vast differences between U.S. and EU competition law with respect to vertical restraints. On the one hand, since the Supreme Court’s Leegin ruling, even price-related vertical restraints (such as resale price maintenance, or “RPM”) are assessed under the rule of reason in the United States.[105] Some commentators have gone so far as to say that, in practice, U.S. case law almost amounts to per se legality.[106] Conversely, EU competition law treats RPM as severely as it treats cartels. Both RPM and cartels are considered restrictions of competition “by object”—the EU’s equivalent of a per se prohibition.[107] This severe treatment also applies to nonprice vertical restraints that tend to partition the European internal market.[108] Furthermore, in the Consten and Grundig ruling, the ECJ rejected the consequentialist (and economically grounded) principle that inter-brand competition is the appropriate touchstone 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.[109]

This especially stringent stance toward vertical restrictions flies in the face of the longstanding mainstream-economics literature addressing the subject. As Patrick Rey and Jean Tirole (hardly the most free-market of economists) saw it as long ago as 1986: “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.”[110]

While there is theoretical literature (rooted in so-called “possibility theorems”) that suggests firms can engage in anticompetitive vertical conduct, the empirical evidence strongly suggests that, even though firms do impose vertical restraints, it is exceedingly rare that they have net anticompetitive effects. Nor is the relative absence of such evidence for a lack of looking: countless empirical papers have investigated the competitive effects of vertical integration and vertical contractual arrangements and found predominantly procompetitive benefits or, at worst, neutral effects.[111]

Unlike in 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: “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.”[112] Further, “[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.”[113]

By contrast, the EU’s continued per se treatment of RPM strongly reflects its precautionary-principle approach to antitrust, under which European regulators and courts readily condemn conduct that could conceivably injure consumers, even where such injury is, according to the best economic understanding, unlikely (at best).[114] The U.S. approach to such vertical restraints, which rests on likelihood rather than mere possibility,[115] is far less likely to erroneously condemn beneficial conduct.

There are also significant differences between the U.S. and EU stances on the issue of rebates. This reflects the EU’s relative willingness to disregard complex economics in favor of noneconomic, formalist presumptions (at least, prior to the ECJ’s Intel ruling). Whereas U.S. antitrust has predominantly moved to an effects-based assessment of rebates,[116] this is only starting to happen in the EU. Prior to the ECJ’s Intel ruling, the EU implemented an overly simplistic approach to assessing rebates by dominant firms, where so-called “fidelity” rebates were almost per se illegal.[117] Likely recognizing the problems inherent in this formalistic assessment of rebates, the ECJ’s Intel ruling moved the European case law on rebates to a more evidence-based approach, holding that:

[T]he Commission is not only required to analyse, first, the extent of the undertaking’s dominant position on the relevant market and, secondly, the share of the market covered by the challenged practice, as well as the conditions and arrangements for granting the rebates in question, their duration and their amount; it is also required to assess the possible existence of a strategy aiming to exclude competitors that are at least as efficient as the dominant undertaking from the market.[118]

As Advocate General Nils Wahl noted in his opinion in the case, only such an evidence-based approach could ensure that the challenged conduct was actually harmful:

In this section, I shall explain why an abuse of dominance is never established in the abstract: even in the case of presumptively unlawful practices, the Court has consistently examined the legal and economic context of the impugned conduct. In that sense, the assessment of the context of the conduct scrutinised constitutes a necessary corollary to determining whether an abuse of dominance has taken place. That is not surprising. The conduct scrutinised must, at the very least, be able to foreclose competitors from the market in order to fall under the prohibition laid down in Article 102 TFEU.”[119]

The Expert Report, however, contains a direct refutation of Intel, thus “out-Europing” even Europe itself in its treatment of vertical restraints:

7) Plaintiffs need not show that the rivals whose ability to compete has been reduced are as efficient, or nearly as efficient, as the defendant. Harm to competition can arise when the competitive constraints on the defendant are weakened even when those competitive constraints come from less efficient rivals. Indeed, harm to competition can be especially great when a firm that faces limited competition further weakens its rivals.[120]

If adopted, this language would significantly limit the need for California courts to show actual anticompetitive harm arising from challenged vertical conduct. Similarly, the Expert Report’s rejection of the “no-economic-sense” test—“liability…does not require finding… that the conduct of the defendant makes no economic sense apart from its tendency to harm competition”[121]—removes another mechanism to ensure that vertical restraints lead to actual consumer harm, rather than simply injury to a competitor.

As Thom Lambert persuasively demonstrates, there are imperfections with both the “as efficient competitor” test and the “no economic sense” test. But these commonly applied tools do at least help to ensure that courts undertake to find actual anticompetitive harm.[122] The rejection of both simultaneously is decidedly problematic, suggesting a preference for no serious economic constraints on courts’ discretion to condemn practices solely on the ground of structural harm—i.e., harm to certain competitors.

By contrast, the alternative definition that Lambert proposes “would deem conduct to be unreasonably exclusionary if it would exclude from the defendant’s market a ‘competitive rival,’ defined as a rival that is both as determined as the defendant and capable, at minimum efficient scale, of matching the defendant’s efficiency.”[123] While this test may appear to have some traits in common with the Expert Report’s “diminishing competitive constraints” approach, it incorporates a much more robust set of principles and limitations, designed to more clearly distinguish conduct that merely excludes from exclusions that actually cause anticompetitive harm, while minimizing administrative costs.[124] The Expert Report, by contrast, explicitly removes such limitations.

A related problem concerns the Expert Report’s proposal that “when a defendant operates a multi-sided platform business, [liability does not turn on whether] the conduct of the defendant presents harm to competition on more than one side of the multi-sided platform[.]”[125] This provision is meant to reverse the Supreme Court’s holding on platform vertical restraints in Ohio v. American Express that:

Due to indirect network effects, two-sided platforms cannot raise prices on one side without risking a feedback loop of declining demand. And the fact that two-sided platforms charge one side a price that is below or above cost reflects differences in the two sides’ demand elasticity, not market power or anticompetitive pricing. Price increases on one side of the platform likewise do not suggest anticompetitive effects without some evidence that they have increased the overall cost of the platform’s services. Thus, courts must include both sides of the platform—merchants and cardholders—when defining the credit-card market….

…For all these reasons, “[i]n two-sided transaction markets, only one market should be defined.” Any other analysis would lead to “mistaken inferences” of the kind that could “chill the very conduct the antitrust laws are designed to protect.”[126]

As Greg Werden notes, “[a]lleging the relevant market in an antitrust case does not merely identify the portion of the economy most directly affected by the challenged conduct; it identifies the competitive process alleged to be harmed.”[127] Particularly where novel conduct or novel markets are involved, and thus the relevant economic relationships are poorly understood, market definition is crucial to determine “what the nature of [the relevant] products is, how they are priced and on what terms they are sold, what levers [a firm] can use to increase its profits, and what competitive constraints affect its ability to do so.”[128] This is the approach the Supreme Court employed in Amex.

The Expert Report’s proposal to overrule Amex in California is deeply misguided. The economics of two-sided markets are such that “there is no meaningful economic relationship between benefits and costs on each side of the market considered alone…. [A]ny analysis of social welfare must account for the pricing level, the pricing structure, and the feasible alternatives for getting all sides on board.”[129] Assessing anticompetitive harm with respect to only one side of a two-sided market will arbitrarily include and exclude various sets of users and transactions, and incorrectly assess the extent and consequences of market power.[130]

Indeed, evidence of a price effect on only one side of a two-sided platform can be consistent with either neutral, anticompetitive, or procompetitive conduct.[131] Only when output is defined to incorporate the two-sidedness of the product, and where price and quality are assessed on both sides of a sufficiently interrelated two-sided platform, is it even possible to distinguish between procompetitive and anticompetitive effects. In fact, “[s]eparating the two markets allows legitimate competitive activities in the market for general purposes to be penalized no matter how output-enhancing such activities may be.”[132]

Notably, while some scholars have opposed the Amex holding that both sides of a two-sided market must be included in the relevant market in order to assess anticompetitive harm, some of these critics appear to note that the problem is not that both sides should not be taken into account at all, but only that they should not be included in the same relevant market (thus, permitting a plaintiff to make out a prima facie case by showing harm to just one side).[133] The language proposed in the Expert Report, however, would go even further, seemingly permitting a finding of liability based solely on harm to one side of a multi-sided market, regardless of countervailing effects on the other side. As in the Amex case itself, such an approach would confer benefits on certain platform business users (in Amex, retailers) at the direct expense of consumers (in Amex, literal consumers of retail goods purchased by credit card).

Adopting such an approach in California—whose economy is significantly dependent on multisided digital-platform firms, including both incumbents and startups[134]—would imperil the state’s economic prospects[135] and exacerbate the incentives for such firms to take jobs, investments, and tax dollars elsewhere.[136]

[1] Antitrust Law — Study B-750, California Law Revision Commission (last revised Apr. 26, 2024), available at

[2] We welcome the opportunity to comment further or to respond to questions about our comments. Please contact us at [email protected].

[3] Regulation (EU) 2022/1925 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 14 September 2022 on Contestable and Fair Markets in the Digital Sector and amending Directives (EU) 2019/1937 and (EU) 2020/1828, 2022 O.J. (L 265) 1.

[4] See Aaron Edlin, Doug Melamed, Sam Miller, Fiona Scott Morton, & Carl Shapiro, Expert Report on Single Firm Conduct, 2024 Cal. L. Rev. Comm’n (hereinafter “Expert Report”), available at ExRpt-B750-Grp1.pdf.

[5] Id. at 14.

[6] Frank H. Easterbrook, The Limits of Antitrust, 63 Tex. L. Rev. 1, 15 (1984).

[7] See, especially, Pac. Bell Tel. Co. v. linkLine Commc’ns, Inc., 555 U.S. 438 (2009); Credit Suisse Sec. (U.S.A) LLC v. Billing, 551 U.S. 264, 265 (2007); Verizon Comm. v. Law Offices of Trinko, 540 U.S. 398 (2004).

[8] Trinko, 540 U.S. at 414 (quoting Matsushita Elec. Indus. Co. v. Zenith Radio Corp., 475 U.S. 574, 594 (1986)).

[9] Easterbrook, supra note 6, at 7.

[10] See, e.g., Aurelien Portuese, The Rise of Precautionary Antitrust: An Illustration with the EU Google Android Decision, CPI EU News November 2019 (2019) at 4 (“The absence of demonstrated consumer harm in order to find antitrust injury is not fortuitous, but represents a fundamental alteration of antitrust enforcement, predominantly when it comes to big tech companies. Coupled with the lack of clear knowledge, a shift in the burden of proof, and the lack of a consumer harm requirement in order to find abuse of dominance all reveal the precautionary approach that the European Commission has now embraced.”).

[11] See Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Rupert Read, Raphael Douady, Joseph Norman, & Yaneer Bar-Yam, The Precautionary Principle (With Application to the Genetic Modification of Organisms), arXiv preprint arXiv:1410.5787, 2 (2014). (“The purpose of the PP is to avoid a certain class of what, in probability and insurance, is called “ruin” problems. A ruin problem is one where outcomes of risks have a non-zero probability of resulting in unrecoverable losses.”).

[12] The precautionary principles implies that policymakers should bar certain mutually advantageous transactions due to the social costs that they might impose further down the line. Moreover, the precautionary principle has historically been associated with anti-growth positions. See, e.g., Jaap C Hanekamp, Guillaume Vera?Navas, & SW Verstegen, The Historical Roots of Precautionary Thinking: The Cultural Ecological Critique and ‘The Limits to Growth’, 8 J. Risk Res. 295, 299 (2005) (“The first inklings of today’s precautionary thinking as a means of creating a sustainable society can be traced historically to ‘The Limits to Growth’…”).

[13] See, e.g., Greg Ip, Europe Regulates Its Way to Last Place, Wall St. J. (Jan. 31, 2024), (“Of course, Europe’s economy underperforms for lots of reasons, from demographics to energy costs, not just regulation. And U.S. regulators aren’t exactly hands-off. Still, they tend to act on evidence of harm, whereas Europe’s will act on the mere possibility. This precautionary principle can throttle innovation in its cradle.”) (emphasis added).

[14] See, e.g., id.; Eric Albert, Europe Trails Behind the United States in Economic Growth, Le Monde (Nov. 1, 2023), (“For the past fifteen years, Europe has been falling further and further behind…. Since 2007, per capita growth on the other side of the Atlantic has been 19.2%, compared with 7.6% in the eurozone. A gap of almost twelve points.”).

[15] Fredrik Erixon, Oscar Guinea, & Oscar du Roy, If the EU Was a State in the United States: Comparing Economic Growth Between EU and US States, ECIPE Policy Brief No. 07/2023 (2023), available at

[16] Among other things, the Expert Report argues that antitrust should be used to address alleged policy concerns broader than protecting competition, and should accept reductions in competition to do so. See Expert Report, supra note 1, at 2 (“Nonetheless, these important values [‘broader social and political goals’] can influence the evidentiary standards that the Legislature instructs the courts to apply when handling individual antitrust cases. For example, the California Legislature could instruct the courts to err on the side of enforcement when the effect of the conduct at issue on competition is uncertain.”). But as one of the authors of the Expert Report has himself noted elsewhere: “while antitrust enforcement has a vital role to play in keeping markets competitive, antitrust law and antitrust institutions are ill suited to directly address concerns associated with the political power of large corporations or other public policy goals such as income inequality or job creation.” Carl Shapiro, Antitrust in a Time of Populism, 61 Int’l J. Indus. Org. 714, 714 (2018) (emphasis added).

[17] See generally Easterbrook, supra note 6, at 14-15. See also Geoffrey A. Manne & Joshua D. Wright, Innovation and the Limits of Antitrust, 6 J. Comp. L. & Econ. 153 (2010).

[18] See Robert W. Crandall & Clifford Winston, Does Antitrust Policy Improve Consumer Welfare? Assessing the Evidence, 17 J. Econ. Persp. 3, 4 (2003) (“[T]he economics profession should conclude that until it can provide some hard evidence that identi?es where the antitrust authorities are signi?cantly improving consumer welfare and can explain why some enforcement actions and remedies are helpful and others are not, those authorities would be well advised to prosecute only the most egregious anticompetitive violations.”).

[19] David Autor, David Dorn, Lawrence F. Katz, Christina Patterson & John Van Reenen, The Fall of the Labor Share and the Rise of Superstar Firms, 135 Q.J. Econ. 645, 651 (2020) (citations omitted) (emphasis added).

[20] See, e.g., Thomas Philippon, The Great Reversal: How America Gave Up on Free Markets (2019); Jan De Loecker, Jan Eeckhout, & Gabriel Unger, The Rise of Market Power and the Macroeconomic Implications, 135 Q. J. Econ. 561 (2020); David Wessel, Is Lack of Competition Strangling the U.S. Economy?, Harv. Bus. Rev. (Apr. 2018),; Adil Abdela & Marshall Steinbaum, The United States Has a Market Concentration Problem, Roosevelt Institute Issue Brief (2018), available at

[21] A number of papers simply do not find that the accepted story—built in significant part around the famous De Loecker, Eeckhout, & Unger study, id.—regarding the vast size of markups and market power is accurate. The claimed markups due to increased concentration are likely not nearly as substantial as commonly assumed. See, e.g., James Traina, Is Aggregate Market Power Increasing? Production Trends Using Financial Statements, Stigler Center Working Paper (Feb. 2018), available at; see also World Economic Outlook, April 2019 Growth Slowdown, Precarious Recovery, International Monetary Fund (Apr. 2019), available at Another study finds that profits have increased, but are still within their historical range. See Loukas Karabarbounis & Brent Neiman, Accounting for Factorless Income, 33 NBER Macro. Annual 167 (2019). And still another shows decreased wages in concentrated markets, but also that local concentration has been decreasing over the relevant time period, suggesting that lack of enforcement is not a problem. See Kevin Rinz, Labor Market Concentration, Earnings, and Inequality, 57 J. Hum. Resources S251 (2022).

[22] See Esteban Rossi-Hansberg, Pierre-Daniel Sarte, & Nicholas Trachter, Diverging Trends in National and Local Concentration, 35 NBER Macro. Annual 115, 116 (2020) (“[T]he observed positive trend in market concentration at the national level has been accompanied by a corresponding negative trend in average local market concentration…. The narrower the geographic definition, the faster is the decline in local concentration. This is meaningful because the relevant definition of concentration from which to infer changes in competition is, in most sectors, local and not national.”).

[23] Id. at 117 (emphasis added).

[24] Sharat Ganapati, Growing Oligopolies, Prices, Output, and Productivity, 13 Am. Econ. J. Micro. 309, 323-24 (2021) (emphasis added).

[25] Chang-Tai Hsieh & Esteban Rossi-Hansberg, The Industrial Revolution in Services, 1 J. Pol. Econ. Macro. 3, 3 (2023) (emphasis added). See also id. at 39 (“Over the past 4 decades, the US economy has experienced a new industrial revolution that has enabled ?rms to scale up production over a large number of establishments dispersed across space. The adoption of these technologies has particularly favored productive ?rms in nontraded-service industries. The industrial revolution in services has had its largest effect in smaller and mid-sized local markets…. The gain to local consumers from access to more, better, and novel varieties of local services from the entry of top ?rms into local markets is not captured by the BLS. We estimate that such ‘missing growth’ is as large as 1.6% in the smallest markets and averages 0.5% per year from 1977 to 2013 across all US cities.”) (emphasis added).

[26] David Berger, Kyle Herkenhoff & Simon Mongey, Labor Market Power, 112 Am. Econ. Rev. 1147, 1148-49 (2022).

[27] Shapiro, Antitrust in a Time of Populism, supra note 16, at 727-28.

[28] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 15 (emphasis added).

[29] Id. at 2.

[30] A. Douglas Melamed, Antitrust Law and Its Critics, 83 Antitrust L.J. 269, 285 (2020).

[31] Herbert J. Hovenkamp & Fiona Scott Morton, Framing the Chicago School of Antitrust Analysis, 168 U. Penn. L. Rev. 1843, 1870-71 (2020).

[32] Easterbrook, supra note 6, at 2-3.

[33] Hovenkamp & Scott Morton, supra note 31, at 1849.

[34] See generally Geoffrey A. Manne, Error Costs in Digital Markets, in Global Antitrust Institute Report on the Digital Economy (Joshua D. Wright & Douglas H. Ginsburg eds., 2020), available at

[35] Bruce H. Kobayashi & Timothy J. Muris, Chicago, Post-Chicago, and Beyond: Time to Let Go of the 20th Century, 78 Antitrust L.J. 147, 166 (2012).

[36] See id. at 166 (“[T]here is very little empirical evidence based on in-depth industry studies that RRC is a significant antitrust problem.”); id. at 148 (“Because of [the Post-Chicago School] literature’s focus on theoretical possibility theorems, little evidence exists regarding the empirical relevance of these theories.”).

[37] See Expert Report, supra note 1, at 7 (“The history of federal antitrust enforcement of single-firm conduct illustrates that when courts are uncertain about how to assess conduct, they often find in favor of defendants even if the conduct harms competition simply because the plaintiff bears the burden of proof.”).

[38] See supra notes 19-27, and accompanying text.

[39] See Case C-413/14 P Intel v Commission, ECLI:EU:C:2017:788.

[40] See Steven Berry, Martin Gaynor, & Fiona Scott Morton, Do Increasing Markups Matter? Lessons from Empirical Industrial Organization, 33 J. Econ. Persp. 48 (2019). See also Jonathan Baker & Timothy F. Bresnahan, Economic Evidence in Antitrust: Defining Markets and Measuring Market Power in Handbook of Antitrust Economics 1 (Paolo Buccirossi ed., 2008) (“The Chicago identification argument has carried the day, and structure-conduct-performance empirical methods have largely been discarded in economics.”).

[41] See, e.g., Gregory J. Werden & Luke Froeb, Don’t Panic: A Guide to Claims of Increasing Concentration 33 Antitrust 74 (2018),, and papers cited therein. As Werden & Froeb conclude: No evidence we have uncovered substantiates a broad upward trend in the market concentration in the United States, but market concentration undoubtedly has increased significantly in some sectors, such as wireless telephony. Such increases in concentration, however, do not warrant alarm or imply a failure of antitrust. Increases in market concentration are not a concern of competition policy when concentration remains low, yet low levels of concentration are being cited by those alarmed about increasing concentration…. Id. at 78. See also Joshua D. Wright, Elyse Dorsey, Jonathan Klick, & Jan M. Rybnicek, Requiem for a Paradox: The Dubious Rise and Inevitable Fall of Hipster Antitrust, 51 Ariz. St. L.J. 293 (2019).

[42] See, e.g., Expert Report, supra note 1, at 15.

[43] Francine Lafontaine & Margaret Slade, Exclusive Contracts and Vertical Restraints: Empirical Evidence and Public Policy, in Handbook of Antitrust Economics 391 (Paolo Buccirossi ed., 2008).

[44] See, e.g., Daniel P. O’Brien, The Antitrust Treatment of Vertical Restraints: Beyond the Possibility Theorems, in The Pros and Cons of Vertical Restraints 40, 72-76 (Swedish Competition Authority, 2008) (“[Vertical restraints] are unlikely to be anticompetitive in most cases.”); James C. Cooper, et al., Vertical Antitrust Policy as a Problem of Inference, 23 Int’l J. Indus. Org. 639 (2005) (surveying the empirical literature, concluding that although “some studies find evidence consistent with both pro- and anticompetitive effects… virtually no studies can claim to have identified instances where vertical practices were likely to have harmed competition”); Benjamin Klein, Competitive Resale Price Maintenance in the Absence of Free-Riding, 76 Antitrust L.J. 431 (2009); Bruce H. Kobayashi, Does Economics Provide a Reliable Guide to Regulating Commodity Bundling by Firms? A Survey of the Economic Literature, 1 J. Comp. L. & Econ. 707 (2005).

[45] James Cooper, Luke Froeb, Daniel O’Brien, & Michael Vita, Vertical Restrictions and Antitrust Policy: What About the Evidence?, Comp. Pol’y Int’l 45 (2005).

[46] Id.

[47] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 16: (b) Conduct, whether by one or multiple actors, is deemed to be anticompetitive exclusionary conduct, if the conduct tends to (1) diminish or create a meaningful risk of diminishing the competitive constraints imposed by the defendant’s rivals and thereby increase or create a meaningful risk of increasing the defendant’s market power, and (2) does not provide sufficient benefits to prevent the defendant’s trading partners from being harmed by that increased market power.

[48] Id.

[49] See TransUnion LLC v. Ramirez, 141 S. Ct. 2190, 2210-11 (2021) (“The plaintiffs rely on language from Spokeo where the Court said that ‘the risk of real harm’ (or as the Court otherwise stated, a ‘material risk of harm’) can sometimes ‘satisfy the requirement of concreteness…. [but] in a suit for damages, the mere risk of future harm, standing alone, cannot qualify as a concrete harm—at least unless the exposure to the risk of future harm itself causes a separate concrete harm.”) (citations omitted).

[50] In essence, for uncertain future effects, U.S. antitrust law applies something like a “reasonableness” standard. See U.S. v. Microsoft Corp., 253 F.3d 34, 79 (D.C. Cir. 2001) (enjoining “conduct that is reasonably capable of contributing significantly to a defendant’s continued monopoly power”) (emphasis added). Of course, “material risk” is undefined, so perhaps it is meant to accord with this standard. If so, it should use the same language.

[51] Herbert Hovenkamp, Antitrust Harm and Causation, 99 Wash. U. L. Rev. 787, 841 (2021). See also id. at 788 (“While a showing of actual harm can be important evidence, in most cases the public authorities need not show that harm has actually occurred, but only that the challenged conduct poses an unreasonable danger that it will occur.”) (emphasis added).

[52] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 16.

[53] See Brunswick Corp. v. Pueblo Bowl-O-Mat, Inc., 429 U.S. 477, 487-88 (1977) (“If the acquisitions here were unlawful, it is because they brought a ‘deep pocket’ parent into a market of ‘pygmies.’ Yet respondents’ injury—the loss of income that would have accrued had the acquired centers gone bankrupt—bears no relationship to the size of either the acquiring company or its competitors. Respondents would have suffered the identical ‘loss’—but no compensable injury—had the acquired centers instead obtained refinancing or been purchased by ‘shallow pocket’ parents, as the Court of Appeals itself acknowledged. Thus, respondents’ injury was not of ‘the type that the statute was intended to forestall[.]’”) (citations omitted).

[54] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 17.

[55] Microsoft, 253 F.3d at 79.

[56] Treaty on European Union, Protocol (No27) on the internal market and competition, Official Journal 115.

[57] See especially Expert Report supra note 1, at 17, §§ (f)(8) & (g) through (i).

[58] See, e.g., Joaquín Almunia, Competition and Consumers: The Future of EU Competition Policy, Speech at European Competition Day, Madrid (May 12, 2010), available at (“All of us here today know very well what our ultimate objective is: Competition policy is a tool at the service of consumers. Consumer welfare is at the heart of our policy and its achievement drives our priorities and guides our decisions.”). Even then, however, it must be noted that Almunia elaborated that “[o]ur objective is to ensure that consumers enjoy the benefits of competition, a wider choice of goods, of better quality and at lower prices.” Id. (emphasis added). In fact, expanded consumer choice is not necessarily the same thing as consumer welfare, and may at times be at odds with it. See Joshua D. Wright & Douglas H. Ginsburg, The Goals of Antitrust: Welfare Trumps Choice, 81 Fordham L. Rev. 2405 (2013).

[59] See Commission Guidance on the Commission’s Enforcement Priorities in Applying Article 82 of the EC Treaty to Abusive Exclusionary Conduct by Dominant Undertakings, 2009 O. J.(C 45)7 at n. 5, §6 (“[T]he Commission is mindful that what really matters is protecting an effective competitive process and not simply protecting competitors.”).

[60] See Case C-209/10, Post Danmark A/S v Konkurrencerådet, ECLI:EU:C:2012:172, §22 (“Competition on the merits may, by definition, lead to the departure from the market or the marginalisation of competitors that are less efficient and so less attractive to consumers….”).

[61] See Pablo Ibáñez Colomo, Exclusionary Discrimination Under Article 102 TFEU, 51 Common Market L. Rev. 153 (2014).

[62] Id.

[63] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 16.

[64] Id.

[65] See Brian Albrecht, Dirk Auer, & Geoffrey A. Manne, Labor Monopsony and Antitrust Enforcement: A Cautionary Tale, ICLE White Paper No. 2024-05-01 (2024) at 21, available at (“[Conduct] that creates monopsony power will necessarily reduce the prices and quantity purchased of inputs like labor and materials. But this same effect (reduced prices and quantities for inputs) would also be observed if the [conduct] is efficiency enhancing. If there are efficiency gains, the [] entity may purchase fewer of one or more inputs than [it would otherwise]. For example, if the efficiency gain arises from the elimination of redundancies in a hospital…, the hospital will buy fewer inputs, hire fewer technicians, or purchase fewer medical supplies.”). See also Ivan Kirov & James Traina, Labor Market Power and Technological Change in US Manufacturing, conference paper for Institute for Labor Economics (Oct. 2022), at 42, available at (“The labor [markdown] therefore increases because ‘productivity’ rises, and not because pay falls. This suggests that technological change plays a large role in the rise of the labor [markdown].”).

[66] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 15 (emphasis added).

[67] Trinko, 540 U.S. at 407.

[68] See Expert Report, supra note 1, at 16 (“‘Trading partners’ are parties with which the defendant deals, either as a customer or as a supplier. In [assessing anticompetitive exclusionary conduct], a trading partner is deemed to be harmed or benefited even if that trading partner passes some or all of that harm or benefit on to other parties.”).

[69] Id. at 15 (emphasis added).

[70] Id. at 13.

[71] See supra Section II.

[72] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 17. As the Expert Report acknowledges elsewhere, recoupment is a “requirement for a predatory pricing claim under federal antitrust law.” Id. at 15.

[73] See Brooke Group Ltd. v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., 509 U.S. 209, 222-27 (1993).

[74] Id. at 224.

[75] On entry deterrence, see Steven C. Salop, Strategic Entry Deterrence, 69 Am. Econ. Rev. 335 (1979).

[76] See generally John S. McGee, Predatory Pricing Revisited, 23 J.L. Econ 289 (1980). Some economists have more recently posed a “strategic” theory of predatory pricing that purports to expand substantially (and redirect) the scope of circumstances in which predatory pricing could be rational. See, e.g., Patrick Bolton, Joseph F. Brodley, & Michael H. Riordan, Predatory Pricing: Strategic Theory and Legal Policy, 88 Geo. L. J. 2239 (2000). While this and related theories have, indeed, likely expanded the theoretical scope of circumstances conducive to predatory pricing, they have not established that these conditions are remotely likely to occur. See Bruce H. Kobayashi, The Law and Economics of Predatory Pricing, in 4 Encyclopedia of Law and Economics (De Geest, ed. 2017) (“The models showing rational predation can exist and the evidence consistent with episodes of predation do not demonstrate that predation is either ubiquitous or frequent. Moreover, many of these models do not consider the welfare effects of predation, and those that do generally find the welfare effects ambiguous.”). From a legal perspective, particularly given the risk of error in discerning the difference between predatory pricing and legitimate price cutting, it is far more important to limit cases to situations likely to cause consumer harm rather than those in which harm is a remote possibility. The cost of error, of course, is the legal imposition of artificially inflated prices for consumers.

[77] Case C-62/86, AKZO v Comm’n, EU:C:1991:286, ¶¶ 71-72.

[78] Id. at ¶ 72 (“[P]rices below average total costs, that is to say, fixed costs plus variable costs, but above average variable costs, must be regarded as abusive if they are determined as part of a plan for eliminating a competitor.”).

[79] Case C-333/94 P, Tetra Pak v Comm’n, EU:C:1996:436, ¶ 44. See also, Case C-202/07 P, France Télécom v Comm’n, EU:C:2009:214, ¶ 110.

[80] Id. at ¶ 107.

[81] See, e.g., Bolton, Brodley, & Riordan, supra note 76.

[82] See id. at 2267 (“[A]nticipated recoupment is intrinsic in [strategic] theories, because without such an expectation predatory pricing is not sensible economic behavior.”). See also Kenneth G. Elzinga & David E. Mills, Predatory Pricing and Strategic Theory, 89 Geo. L.J. 2475, 2483 (2001) (“Of course, no proposed scheme of predation is credible unless it embodies a plausible means of recoupment, but this does not justify taking shortcuts in analysis. In particular, it is unwise to presume that a plausible means of recoupment exists just because facts supporting other features of a strategic theory, such as asymmetric information, are evident. Facts conducive to probable recoupment ought to be established independently.”).

[83] Kobayashi & Muris, supra note 35, at 166.

[84] Tetra Pak, supra note 79, at ¶ 44.

[85] France Télécom, supra note 79, at ¶ 112.

[86] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 17.

[87] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 15.

[88] Trinko, 540 U.S. at 408.

[89] Trinko, 540 U.S. at 409.

[90] Trinko, 540 U.S. at 411. See also Phillip Areeda, Essential Facilities: An Epithet in Need of Limiting Principles, 58 Antitrust L.J. 841 (1989).

[91] Aspen Skiing Co. v. Aspen Highlands Skiing Corp., 472 U.S. 585, 610-11 (1985).

[92] See Alan J. Meese, Property, Aspen, and Refusals to Deal, 73 Antitrust L. J. 81, 112-13 (2005).

[93] See Joined Cases 6/73 & 7/73, Instituto Chemioterapico Italiano S.p.A. and Commercial Solvents Corporation v. Comm’n, 1974 E.C.R. 223, [1974] 1 C.M.L.R. 309.

[94] See Case C-7/97, Oscar Bronner GmbH & Co. KG v Mediaprint Zeitungs, EU:C:1998:569, §41.

[95] See Case C-241/91 P, RTE and ITP v Comm’n, EU:C:1995:98, §54. See also, Case C-418/01, IMS Health, EU:C:2004:257, §37.

[96] John Vickers, Competition Policy and Property Rights, 120 Econ. J. 390 (2010).

[97] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 7.

[98] Aspen Skiing Co. v. Aspen Highlands Skiing Corp., 472 U.S. 585, 605 (1985).

[99] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 17.

[100] Einer Elhauge, Defining Better Monopolization Standards, 56 Stan. L. Rev. 253, 343 (2003).

[101] See Fed. Trade Comm’n v. Qualcomm Inc., 969 F.3d 974, 995 (9th Cir. 2020) (“Finally, unlike in Aspen Skiing, the district court found no evidence that Qualcomm singles out any specific chip supplier for anticompetitive treatment in its SEP-licensing. In Aspen Skiing, the defendant refused to sell its lift tickets to a smaller, rival ski resort even as it sold the same lift tickets to any other willing buyer (including any other ski resort)…. Qualcomm applies its OEM-level licensing policy equally with respect to all competitors in the modem chip markets and declines to enforce its patents against these rivals…. Instead, Qualcomm provides these rivals indemnifications…—the Aspen Skiing equivalent of refusing to sell a skier a lift ticket but letting them ride the chairlift anyway. Thus, while Qualcomm’s policy toward OEMs is ‘no license, no chips,’ its policy toward rival chipmakers could be characterized as ‘no license, no problem.’ Because Qualcomm applies the latter policy neutrally with respect to all competing modem chip manufacturers, the third Aspen Skiing requirement does not apply.”)

[102] Carl Shapiro was an economic expert for the FTC in the case, and Fiona Scott Morton was an economic expert for Apple in related litigation against Qualcomm. Doug Melamed was co-author of an amicus brief supporting the FTC in the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. (In the interests of full disclosure, we authored an amicus brief, joined by 12 scholars of law & economics, supporting Qualcomm in the 9th Circuit. See Brief of Amici Curiae International Center for Law & Economics and Scholars of Law and Economics in Support of Appellant and Reversal, FTC v. Qualcomm, No. 19-16122 (9th Cir., Aug. 30, 2019), available at

[103] For a discussion of the frailties of these arguments, see Geoffrey A. Manne & Dirk Auer, Exclusionary Pricing Without the Exclusion: Unpacking Qualcomm’s No License, No Chips Policy, Truth on the Market (Jan. 17, 2020), (“The amici are thus left with the argument that Qualcomm could structure its prices differently, so as to maximize the profits of its rivals. Why it would choose to do so, or should indeed be forced to, is a whole other matter.”). For a response by one of the Expert Report authors, see Mark A. Lemley, A. Douglas Melamed, & Steve Salop, Manne and Auer’s Defense of Qualcomm’s Licensing Policy Is Deeply Flawed, Truth on the Market (Jan. 21, 2020),

[104] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 15.

[105] See Leegin Creative Leather Prods., Inc. v. PSKS, Inc., 551 U.S. 877 (2007).

[106] See, e.g., D. Daniel Sokol, The Transformation of Vertical Restraints: Per Se Illegality, The Rule of Reason, and Per Se Legality, 79 Antitrust L.J. 1003, 1004 (2014) (“[T]he shift in the antitrust rules applied to [vertical restraints] has not been from per se illegality to the rule of reason, but has been a more dramatic shift from per se illegality to presumptive legality under the rule of reason.”).

[107] See Commission Regulation (EU) No 330/2010 of 20 April 2010 on the Application of Article 101(3) of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union to Categories of Vertical Agreements and Concerted Practices, 2010 O.J. (L 102) art.4 (a).

[108] See, e.g., Case C-403/08, Football Association Premier League and Others, ECLI:EU:C:2011:631, §139. (“[A]greements which are aimed at partitioning national markets according to national borders or make the interpenetration of national markets more difficult must be regarded, in principle, as agreements whose object is to restrict competition within the meaning of Article 101(1) TFEU.”).

[109] Joined Cases-56/64 and 58/64, Consten SARL & Grundig-Verkaufs-GMBH v. Commission of the European Economic Community, ECLI:EU:C:1966:41, at 343.

[110] Patrick Rey & Jean Tirole, The Logic of Vertical Restraints, 76 Am. Econ. Rev. 921, 937 (1986) (emphasis added).

[111] These papers are collected and assessed in several literature reviews, including Lafontaine & Slade, supra note 43; O’Brien, supra note 44; Cooper et al., supra note 44; Global Antitrust Institute, Comment Letter on Federal Trade Commission’s Hearings on Competition and Consumer Protection in the 21st Century, Vertical Mergers (George Mason Law & Econ. Research Paper No. 18-27, Sep. 6, 2018). Even the reviews of such conduct that purport to be critical are only tepidly so. See, e.g., Marissa Beck & Fiona Scott Morton, Evaluating the Evidence on Vertical Mergers 59 Rev. Indus. Org. 273 (2021) (“[M]any vertical mergers are harmless or procompetitive, but that is a far weaker statement than presuming every or even most vertical mergers benefit competition regardless of market structure.”).

[112] Leegin, 551 U.S. at 889.

[113] Id. at 902.

[114] See, e.g., Lafontaine & Slade, supra note 43.

[115] See Leegin, 551 U.S. at 886-87 (holding that the per se rule should be applied “only after courts have had considerable experience with the type of restraint at issue” and “only if courts can predict with confidence that [the restraint] would be invalidated in all or almost all instances under the rule of reason” because it “‘lack[s]… any redeeming virtue’”) (citations omitted).

[116] See Bruce Kobayashi, The Economics of Loyalty Rebates and Antitrust Law in the United States, 1 Comp. Pol’y Int’l 115, 147 (2005).

[117] See, e.g., Case C-85/76, Hoffmann-La Roche & Co. AG v Commission of the European Communities, EU:C:1979:36, at 7.

[118] See Intel, supra note 39, at ¶ 139 (emphasis added).

[119] Opinion of AG Wahl in Case C-413/14 P Intel v Commission, ECLI:EU:C:2016:788, para 73.

[120] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 17.

[121] Id.

[122] See, e.g., Thomas A. Lambert, Defining Unreasonably Exclusionary Conduct: The Exclusion of a Competitive Rival Approach, 92 N.C. L. Rev. 1175, 1175 (2014) (“This Article examines the proposed definitions or tests for identifying unreasonably exclusionary conduct (including the non-universalist approach) and, finding each lacking, suggests an alternative definition.”).

[123] Id.

[124] Id. at 1244 (“Drawing lessons from past, unsuccessful attempts to define unreasonably exclusionary conduct, this Article has set forth a definition that identifies a common thread tying together all instances of unreasonable exclusion, comports with widely accepted intuitions about what constitutes improper competitive conduct, and generates specific safe harbors and liability rules that would collectively minimize the sum of antitrust’s decision and error costs.”).

[125] Expert Report, supra note 1, at 17.

[126] Ohio v. Am. Express Co., 138 S. Ct. 2274, 2286-87 (2018).

[127] Gregory J. Werden, Why (Ever) Define Markets? An Answer to Professor Kaplow, 78 Antitrust L.J. 729, 741 (2013).

[128] Geoffrey A. Manne, In Defence of the Supreme Court’s ‘Single Market’ Definition in Ohio v. American Express, 7 J. Antitrust Enforcement 104, 106 (2019).

[129] David S. Evans, The Antitrust Economics of Multi-Sided Platform Markets, 20 Yale J. Reg. 325, 355-56 (2003). See also Jean-Charles Rochet & Jean Tirole, Platform Competition in Two-Sided Markets, 1 J. Eur. Econ. Ass’n 990, 1018 (2003).

[130] See, e.g., Michal S. Gal & Daniel L. Rubinfeld, The Hidden Cost of Free Goods, 80 Antitrust L.J. 521, 557 (2016) (discussing the problematic French Competition Tribunal decision in Bottin Cartographes v. Google Inc., where “[d]isregarding the product’s two-sided market, and its cross-network effects, the court possibly prevented a welfare-increasing business strategy”).

[131] See, e.g., Brief of Amici Curiae Prof. David S Evans and Prof. Richard Schmalensee in Support of Respondents in Ohio, et al. v. American Express Co., No. 16-1454 (Sup. Ct. Jan. 23, 2018) at 21, available at (“The first stage of the rule of reason analysis involves determining whether the conduct is anticompetitive. The economic literature on two-sided platforms shows that there is no basis for presuming one could, as a general matter, know the answer to that question without considering both sides of the platform.”).

[132] United States, et al. v. Am. Express Co., et al., 838 F.3d 179, 198 (2nd Cir. 2016).

[133] See, e.g., Michael Katz & Jonathan Sallet, Multisided Platforms and Antitrust Enforcement, 127 Yale L.J. 2142, 2161 (2018) (“[I]t is essential to account for any significant feedback effects and possible changes in prices on both sides of a platform when assessing whether a particular firm has substantial market power.”).

[134] California earned 10% of its statewide GDP from the tech industry in 2021, and just over 9% in 2022. See SAGDP2N Gross Domestic Product (GDP) by State, Bureau of Economic Analysis (last visited May 1, 2024),

[135] See Joseph Politano, California Is Losing Tech Jobs, Apricitas Economics (Apr. 14, 2024), (“[California’s] GDP fell 2.1% through 2022, the second-biggest drop of any state over that period, driven by a massive deceleration across the information sector. That allowed states like Texas to overtake California in the post-pandemic GDP recovery, creating a gap that California still hasn’t been able to close despite its economic rebound in 2023.”).

[136] See id. (“[T]he Golden State has been bleeding tech jobs over the last year and a half—since August 2022, California has lost 21k jobs in computer systems design & related, 15k in streaming & social networks, 11k in software publishing, and 7k in web search & related—while gaining less than 1k in computing infrastructure & data processing. Since the beginning of COVID, California has added a sum total of only 6k jobs in the tech industry—compared to roughly 570k across the rest of the United States.”).

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

Tom Hazlett on the Benefits of Mergers

Presentations & Interviews ICLE Academic Affiliate Thomas Hazlett was a guest on CNBC’s Squawk Box to discuss his recent Wall Street Journal op-ed arguing that mergers often have . . .

ICLE Academic Affiliate Thomas Hazlett was a guest on CNBC’s Squawk Box to discuss his recent Wall Street Journal op-ed arguing that mergers often have consumer benefits. Video of the clip is embedded below.

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

A European Commission Challenge to iRobot’s Acquisition Is Unjustified and Would Harm Dynamic Competition

TOTM Once again, a major competition agency, the European Commission, appears poised to take an anticompetitive enforcement action—in this case, blocking Amazon’s acquisition of consumer robotic-manufacturer . . .

Once again, a major competition agency, the European Commission, appears poised to take an anticompetitive enforcement action—in this case, blocking Amazon’s acquisition of consumer robotic-manufacturer iRobot.

Read the full piece here.

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

A Consumer-Welfare-Centric Reform Agenda for the Federal Trade Commission

TOTM As we approach a presidential election year, it is time to begin developing a  comprehensive reform agenda for the Federal Trade Commission (FTC). In that . . .

As we approach a presidential election year, it is time to begin developing a  comprehensive reform agenda for the Federal Trade Commission (FTC). In that spirit, this post proposes 12 reforms that could be implemented by new leadership, either through unilateral action by a new chair or (in some cases) majority votes of the commission.

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

When Progress Is Regressive: The Ordo-Brandeisian Devolution

TOTM It is no coincidence that ordoliberalism—the European (originally German) alternative to classical liberalism that emphasized the importance of the “social market” economy—and the New Brandeis or “neo-Brandeisian” movement, . . .

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The antitrust mainstream has long dismissed the ideas associated with these movements as populistromantic, or naïve. Being called an “ordoliberal” was, until relatively recently, considered an epithet in Europe. And before individuals associated with their views were elevated into the U.S. antitrust establishment, gaining the attendant aura of respectability that accompanies occupying such lofty heights, the neo-Brandeisians were commonly derided as practicing “hipster antitrust.”

But these glib dismissals underestimated, at their own expense, the visceral appeal of the arguments the ordoliberals and neo-Brandeisians put forward. Ideas that had been relegated to the fringes of academia have begun to seep into the mainstream, and now threaten to upend the “neoliberal” antitrust order—all because opponents refused to take them seriously. As in the past, this trend can only be reverted through a better understanding of why these ideologies are so attractive, and why they ultimately fall flat.

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

I, For One, Welcome Our New FTC Overlords

TOTM In this post—the last planned post for this symposium on The FTC’s New Normal (though we will continue to accept unsolicited submissions of responses)—I will offer some . . .

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

FTC’s Amazon Complaint: Perhaps the Greatest Affront to Consumer and Producer Welfare in Antitrust History

TOTM The FTC—joined (unfortunately) by 17 state attorneys general—on Sept. 26 filed its much-anticipated antitrust complaint against Amazon in the U.S. District Court for the Western . . .

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection

Regulatory Humility or Regulatory Hubris at the Federal Trade Commission?

TOTM Competition policy at the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) will naturally ebb and flow, depending on its leadership. Over the years, some commissions have taken a . . .

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Not anymore.

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Antitrust & Consumer Protection