Introduction

The dystopian novel is a powerful literary genre. It has given us such masterpieces as Nineteen Eighty-Four, Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, and Animal Farm. Though these novels often shed light on some of the risks that contemporary society faces and the zeitgeist of the time when they were written, they almost always systematically overshoot the mark (whether intentionally or not) and severely underestimate the radical improvements commensurate with the technology (or other causes) that they fear. Nineteen Eighty-Four, for example, presciently saw in 1949 the coming ravages of communism, but it did not guess that markets would prevail, allowing us all to live freer and more comfortable lives than any preceding generation. Fahrenheit 451 accurately feared that books would lose their monopoly as the foremost medium of communication, but it completely missed the unparalleled access to knowledge that today’s generations enjoy. And while Animal Farm portrayed a metaphorical world where increasing inequality is inexorably linked to totalitarianism and immiseration, global poverty has reached historic lows in the twenty-first century, and this is likely also true of global inequality. In short, for all their literary merit, dystopian novels appear to be terrible predictors of the quality of future human existence. The fact that popular depictions of the future often take the shape of dystopias is more likely reflective of the genre’s entertainment value than of society’s impending demise.

But dystopias are not just a literary phenomenon; they are also a powerful force in policy circles. For example, in the early 1970s, the so-called Club of Rome published an influential report titled The Limits to Growth. The report argued that absent rapid and far-reaching policy shifts, the planet was on a clear path to self-destruction:

If the present growth trends in world population, industrialization, pollution, food production, and resource depletion continue unchanged, the limits to growth on this planet will be reached sometime within the next one hundred years. The most probable result will be a rather sudden and uncontrollable decline in both population and industrial capacity.

Halfway through the authors’ 100-year timeline, however, available data suggests that their predictions were way off the mark. While the world’s economic growth has continued at a breakneck pace, extreme poverty, famine, and the depletion of natural resources have all decreased tremendously.

For all its inaccurate and misguided predictions, dire tracts such as The Limits to Growth perhaps deserve some of the credit for the environmental movements that followed. But taken at face value, the dystopian future along with the attendant policy demands put forward by works like The Limits to Growth would have had cataclysmic consequences for, apparently, extremely limited gain. The policy incentive is to strongly claim impending doom. There’s no incentive to suggest “all is well,” and little incentive even to offer realistic, caveated predictions.

As we argue in this Article, antitrust scholarship and commentary is also afflicted by dystopian thinking. Today, antitrust pessimists have set their sights predominantly on the digital economy—“big tech” and “big data”—alleging a vast array of potential harms. Scholars have argued that the data created and employed by the digital economy produces network effects that inevitably lead to tipping and more concentrated markets. In other words, firms will allegedly accumulate insurmountable data advantages and thus thwart competitors for extended periods of time. Some have gone so far as to argue that this threatens the very fabric of western democracy. Other commentators have voiced fears that companies may implement abusive privacy policies to shortchange consumers. It has also been said that the widespread adoption of pricing algorithms will almost inevitably lead to rampant price discrimination and algorithmic collusion. Indeed, “pollution” from data has even been likened to the environmental pollution that spawned The Limits to Growth: “If indeed ‘data are to this century what oil was to the last one,’ then—[it’s] argue[d]—data pollution is to our century what industrial pollution was to the last one.”

Some scholars have drawn explicit parallels between the emergence of the tech industry and famous dystopian novels. Professor Shoshana Zuboff, for instance, refers to today’s tech giants as “Big Other.” In an article called “Only You Can Prevent Dystopia,” one New York Times columnist surmised:

The new year is here, and online, the forecast calls for several seasons of hell. Tech giants and the media have scarcely figured out all that went wrong during the last presidential election—viral misinformation, state-sponsored propaganda, bots aplenty, all of us cleaved into our own tribal reality bubbles—yet here we go again, headlong into another experiment in digitally mediated democracy.

I’ll be honest with you: I’m terrified . . . There’s a good chance the internet will help break the world this year, and I’m not confident we have the tools to stop it.

Parallels between the novel Nineteen Eighty-Four and the power of large digital platforms were also plain to see when Epic Games launched an antitrust suit against Apple and its App Store in August 2020. Indeed, Epic Games released a short video clip parodying Apple’s famous “1984” ad (which upon its release was itself widely seen as a critique of the tech incumbents of the time).

Similarly, a piece in the New Statesman, titled “Slouching Towards Dystopia: The Rise of Surveillance Capitalism and the Death of Privacy,” concluded that: “Our lives and behaviour have been turned into profit for the Big Tech giants—and we meekly click ‘Accept.’ How did we sleepwalk into a world without privacy?”

Finally, a piece published in the online magazine Gizmodo asked a number of experts whether we are “already living in a tech dystopia.” Some of the responses were alarming, to say the least:

I’ve started thinking of some of our most promising tech, including machine learning, as like asbestos: … it’s really hard to account for, much less remove, once it’s in place; and it carries with it the possibility of deep injury both now and down the line.

. . . .

We live in a world saturated with technological surveillance, democracy-negating media, and technology companies that put themselves above the law while helping to spread hate and abuse all over the world.

Yet the most dystopian aspect of the current technology world may be that so many people actively promote these technologies as utopian.

Antitrust pessimism is not a new phenomenon, and antitrust enforcers and scholars have long been fascinated with—and skeptical of—high tech markets. From early interventions against the champions of the Second Industrial Revolution (oil, railways, steel, etc.) through the mid-twentieth century innovations such as telecommunications and early computing (most notably the RCA, IBM, and Bell Labs consent decrees in the US) to today’s technology giants, each wave of innovation has been met with a rapid response from antitrust authorities, copious intervention-minded scholarship, and waves of pessimistic press coverage. This is hardly surprising given that the adoption of antitrust statutes was in part a response to the emergence of those large corporations that came to dominate the Second Industrial Revolution (despite the numerous radical innovations that these firms introduced in the process). Especially for unilateral conduct issues, it has long been innovative firms that have drawn the lion’s share of cases, scholarly writings, and press coverage.

Underlying this pessimism is a pervasive assumption that new technologies will somehow undermine the competitiveness of markets, imperil innovation, and entrench dominant technology firms for decades to come. This is a form of antitrust dystopia. For its proponents, the future ushered in by digital platforms will be a bleak one—despite abundant evidence that information technology and competition in technology markets have played significant roles in the positive transformation of society. This tendency was highlighted by economist Ronald Coase:

[I]f an economist finds something—a business practice of one sort or another—that he does not understand, he looks for a monopoly explanation. And as in this field we are very ignorant, the number of ununderstandable practices tends to be rather large, and the reliance on a monopoly explanation, frequent.

“The fear of the new—and the assumption that ‘ununderstandable practices’ emerge from anticompetitive impulses and generate anticompetitive effects—permeates not only much antitrust scholarship, but antitrust doctrine as well.” While much antitrust doctrine is capable of accommodating novel conduct and innovative business practices, antitrust law—like all common law-based legal regimes—is inherently backward looking: it primarily evaluates novel arrangements with reference to existing or prior structures, contracts, and practices, often responding to any deviations with “inhospitality.” As a result, there is a built-in “nostalgia bias” throughout much of antitrust that casts a deeply skeptical eye upon novel conduct.

“The upshot is that antitrust scholarship often emphasizes the risks that new market realities create for competition, while idealizing the extent to which previous market realities led to procompetitive outcomes.” Against this backdrop, our Article argues that the current wave of antitrust pessimism is premised on particularly questionable assumptions about competition in data-intensive markets.

Part I lays out the theory and identifies the sources and likely magnitude of both the dystopia and nostalgia biases. Having examined various expressions of these two biases, the Article argues that their exponents ultimately seek to apply a precautionary principle within the field of antitrust enforcement, made most evident in critics’ calls for authorities to shift the burden of proof in a subset of proceedings.

Part II discusses how these arguments play out in the context of digital markets. It argues that economic forces may undermine many of the ills that allegedly plague these markets—and thus the case for implementing a form of precautionary antitrust enforcement. For instance, because data is ultimately just information, it will prove exceedingly difficult for firms to hoard data for extended periods of time. Instead, a more plausible risk is that firms will underinvest in the generation of data. Likewise, the main challenge for digital economy firms is not so much to obtain data, but to create valuable goods and hire talented engineers to draw insights from the data these goods generate. Recent empirical findings suggest, for example, that data economy firms don’t benefit as much as often claimed from data network effects or increasing returns to scale.

Part III reconsiders the United States v. Microsoft Corp. antitrust litigation—the most important precursor to today’s “big tech” antitrust enforcement efforts—and shows how it undermines, rather than supports, pessimistic antitrust thinking. It shows that many of the fears that were raised at the time didn’t transpire (for reasons unrelated to antitrust intervention). Rather, pessimists missed the emergence of key developments that greatly undermined Microsoft’s market position, and greatly overestimated Microsoft’s ability to thwart its competitors. Those circumstances—particularly revolving around the alleged “applications barrier to entry”—have uncanny analogues in the data markets of today. We thus explain how and why the Microsoft case should serve as a cautionary tale for current enforcers confronted with dystopian antitrust theories.

In short, the Article exposes a form of bias within the antitrust community. Unlike entrepreneurs, antitrust scholars and policy makers often lack the imagination to see how competition will emerge and enable entrants to overthrow seemingly untouchable incumbents. New technologies are particularly prone to this bias because there is a shorter history of competition to go on and thus less tangible evidence of attrition in these specific markets. The digital future is almost certainly far less bleak than many antitrust critics have suggested and yet the current swath of interventions aimed at reining in “big tech” presume. This does not mean that antitrust authorities should throw caution to the wind. Instead, policy makers should strive to maintain existing enforcement thresholds, which exclude interventions that are based solely on highly speculative theories of harm.

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In recent years, a growing chorus of voices has argued that existing merger rules fail to apprehend competitively significant mergers, either because they fall below existing merger-filing thresholds or because they affect innovation in ways that are purportedly ignored.

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

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Abstract

A growing number of policymakers and scholars are calling for tougher rules to curb corporate acquisitions. But these appeals are premature. There is currently little evidence to suggest that mergers systematically harm consumer welfare. More importantly, scholars fail to identify alternative institutional arrangements that would capture the anticompetitive mergers that evade prosecution without disproportionate false positives and administrative costs. Their proposals thus fail to meet the requirements of the error-cost framework.

Several high-profile academic articles and reports claim to have identified important gaps in current merger enforcement rules, particularly with respect to tech and pharma acquisitions involving nascent and potential competitors—so-called “killer acquisitions” and “kill zones.” As a result of these perceived deficiencies, scholars and enforcers have called for tougher rules, including the introduction of lower merger filing thresholds and substantive changes, such as the inversion of the burden of proof when authorities review mergers and acquisitions in the digital platform industry. Meanwhile, and seemingly in response to the increased political and advocacy pressures around the issue, U.S. antitrust enforcers have recently undertaken several enforcement actions directly targeting such acquisitions.

As this paper discusses, however, these proposals tend to overlook the important tradeoffs that would ensue from attempts to decrease the number of false positives under existing merger rules and thresholds. While merger enforcement ought to be mindful of these possible theories of harm, the theories and evidence are not nearly as robust as many proponents suggest. Most importantly, there is insufficient basis to conclude that the costs of permitting the behavior they identify is greater than the costs would be of increasing enforcement to prohibit it.

Our work draws from two key strands of economic literature that are routinely overlooked (or summarily dismissed) by critics of the status quo. For a start, as Frank Easterbrook argued in his pioneering work on The Limits of Antitrust, antitrust enforcement is anything but costless. In the case of merger enforcement, not only is it expensive for agencies to detect anticompetitive deals, but overbearing rules may deter beneficial merger activity that creates value for consumers. Indeed, not only are most mergers welfare-enhancing, but barriers to merger activity have been shown to significantly, and negatively, affect early company investment.

Second, critics mistake the nature of causality. Scholars routinely surmise that incumbents use mergers to shield themselves from competition. Acquisitions are thus seen as a means of eliminating competition. But this overlooks an important alternative: It is at least plausible that incumbents’ superior managerial or other capabilities make them the ideal purchasers for entrepreneurs and startup investors who are looking to sell. This dynamic is likely to be amplified where the acquirer and acquiree operate in overlapping lines of business. In other words, competitive advantage, and the ability to profitably acquire other firms, might be caused by business acumen rather than anticompetitive behavior.

Thus, significant and high-profile M&A activity involving would-be competitors may be the procompetitive byproduct of a well-managed business, rather than anticompetitive efforts to stifle competition. Critics systematically overlook this possibility. Indeed, Henry Manne’s seminal work on Mergers and Market for Corporate Control—the first to argue that mergers are a means of applying superior management practices to new assets—is almost never cited by contemporary researchers in this space. Our paper attempts to set the record straight.

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Interrogations concerning the role that economic theory should play in policy decisions are nothing new. Milton Friedman famously drew a distinction between “positive” and “normative” economics, notably arguing that theoretical models were valuable, despite their unrealistic assumptions. Kenneth Arrow and Gerard Debreu’s highly theoretical work on General Equilibrium Theory is widely acknowledged as one of the most important achievements of modern economics.

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ICLE Senior Fellow of Law & Economics Dirk Auer joined the Institute for Internet & the Just Society’s Just Talking series for a discussion of competition policy and the digital economy. Video of the full event is embedded below.

Background…

Apple Inc. and Epic Games are currently locked in a high-stakes antitrust dispute. Epic is challenging Apple’s rules that require apps to use Apple Pay for in-app purchases and that ban alternative app stores from iOS devices like iPhones and iPads. 

The suit is part Epic’s broader strategy, dubbed Project Liberty, to pay lower fees to online platforms. If it succeeds, Epic would be able to steer its users toward lower-priced payment processors. This would increase the competitive constraints that Apple faces when it sets platform fees.

But…

Epic’s proposals would allow large developers and rival payment processors to get the benefit of Apple’s investments in iOS and the App Store without paying for them. It could also undermine other online platforms that rely on commissions to earn a positive return on their upfront investments. This could shrink investments in platform creation and upkeep, hurting users and leading to worse platforms overall.

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In a new paper published by the Progressive Policy Institute, ICLE Senior Fellow Dirk Auer and PPI’s Caleb Watney make the case that while the EU desires to be at the forefront of developing regulations to manage emerging issues relevant to artificial intelligence, the European Commission’s leadership have failed to grapple meaningfully with the significant tradeoffs that regulation of these new technologies entails.

Unlike many other trading blocs (most notably the EU), the ASEAN nations are yet to agree upon a common, unified set of competition law provisions. Nevertheless, recent years have seen the ASEAN members embark upon various initiatives that seek to harmonize their competition regimes (though these stop well short of common rules). In 2016, for instance, the member states adopted the ASEAN Competition Action Plan (“ACAP”). Among other things, the plan seeks to ensure that all ASEAN states implement competition regimes that meet a set of minimal standards, and eventually to harmonize competition policy across the ASEAN region.

These ongoing efforts to modernize and harmonize ASEAN competition laws do not arise in a vacuum. Rather, they take place amid a longstanding effort by both the European Union and the United States to export their respective competition laws throughout the world:

The EU and the US . . . want the rest of the world to follow their respective regulatory models. Both jurisdictions have actively promoted their competition laws as “best practices” abroad, urging developed and developing countries alike to adopt domestic competition laws and build institutions to enforce them. They promote their models through a specialized network of competition regulators—the International Competition Network (ICN)—and also more general bodies—notably the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) and the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD). They also employ bilateral tools in their promotion effort—including offering technical assistance to emerging competition law jurisdictions. In its trade agreements, the EU also explicitly conditions access to its markets on the adoption of a competition law, exporting its own law in the process, while the US relies primarily in its persuasive powers rather than on formal treaties in exporting its laws.

No doubt the EU and US competition regimes are the most developed and dominant exemplars; following the policies of one or both to some extent is virtually inevitable. But this raises a critical question: should the ASEAN countries attempt to mimic the competition regimes of other developed nations, notably those that are in force in the EU and the US? And, if so, which one of these regimes should they draw more inspiration from?

While we certainly do not purport to know what type of regime would best fit the idiosyncratic needs of the ASEAN countries, we seek to dispel the myth that the European model of competition enforcement would necessarily provide a superior blueprint. To the contrary, we show that the evolutionary, common-law-like regime that has emerged in the US has many strengths that are often overlooked by contemporary competition policy scholarship, and which might provide a particularly good fit for the economic and political realities of the ASEAN member states.

Our paper also falls squarely within a much broader debate. Over the past couple of years, there have been renewed calls for policymakers to reform existing competition regimes in order to better address the challenges that are, purportedly, posed by the emergence of the digital economy. This has notably resulted in a series of high-profile reports, papers, and draft legislation, concluding that more interventionist tools are required to effectively deal with competition issues in digital markets. The draft European Digital Markets Act, the US House Judiciary report on competition in digital markets, as well as the draft bill put forward by US Senator Amy Klobuchar all mark the culmination of this antitrust reform movement.

Although the connection is often implicit, these calls for reform ultimately seek to implement (and amplify) features that are currently at the forefront of European competition enforcement. Potential reforms thus include broadening the goals of competition policy, as well as relying more heavily on structural and behavioral presumptions (rather than outcome-oriented reasoning).

At times this desire to move closer to the EU model is more explicit. For example, writing in Vox, Matthew Yglesias ventured that “[o]ne idea [for remedying perceived problems with US antitrust] would be for the US to actually move to something more like the European system and abandon the consumer welfare standard.” In a similar vein, Bloomberg featured an article by economics writer Noah Smith heaping praise on the growing populist antitrust wave and its potential to roll back the consumer welfare standard. And, at least according to EU Commissioner Margrethe Vestager, the US executive branch agencies have expressed a “renewed deeper interest and curiosity as to what we are doing in Europe.”

In parallel to these calls for reform, scholars have also analyzed the evolution of competition legislation around the world (as well as regulation, more generally). These scholars observe that recent initiatives have tended to mimic the rules of the European Union, rather than the more laissez faire approach that is often associated with the US. This trend has been referred to as the “Brussels Effect.” Accordingly, these scholars predict a regulatory “race to the top”, where more stringent rules and regulations will become the norm. While ostensibly agnostic, this implicitly conveys a sense that “resistance is futile,” and that the European approach will inevitably continue to spread more rapidly than its US counterpart.

With these policy debates in mind, our paper argues that ASEAN member states should not be too quick to embrace the European model of competition enforcement – be it by adopting more expansive competition laws or by regulating competition in digital markets. While the above-referenced scholars and advocates tend to assert that a more-expansive, EU-oriented approach would improve economic conditions, economic logic and the apparent reality from Europe strongly suggest otherwise.

Antitrust is an attractive regulatory tool for a number of reasons. The vague, terse language of most antitrust laws (including those in both the US and EU) readily lend themselves to “interpretation” imbuing them with virtually limitless scope. Indeed, the urge to treat antitrust as a legal Swiss Army knife capable of correcting all manner of social and economic ills is apparently difficult to resist. Conflating size with market power, and market power with political power, many recent calls for regulation of the tech industry are framed in antitrust terms, even though they are mostly rooted in nothing recognizable as modern, economically informed antitrust legal claims or analysis.

But that attraction is precisely why everyone—and emerging economies like ASEAN members in particular—should care about the scope, process, and economics of antitrust and the extent of its politicization. Antitrust in the US has largely resisted the relentless effort to politicize it. Despite being rooted in vague and potentially expansive statutory language, US antitrust is economically grounded, evolutionary, and limited to a set of achievable social welfare goals. In the EU, by contrast, these sorts of constraints are far weaker.

This conclusion is in no way altered by the fact that US antitrust law has become the “outlier” of global antitrust enforcement, compared to the EU’s more “consensual” approach. What matters is a policy’s actual results, not whether it is widely adopted; the world is full of debunked beliefs that were once widely shared. And it is far from certain that the widespread adoption of the EU model is in any way indicative of superior results. It is equally (or even more) plausible that this model has proliferated because it naturally accommodates politically useful populist narratives—such as “big is bad,” robin hood fallacies and robber baron myths—that are constrained by the US’s more evidence based and rational antitrust decision-making. America’s isolation might thus be a testament to its success rather than an emblem of its failure.

The EU’s more aggressive pursuit of technology platforms under its antitrust laws demonstrates many of the problems with its approach in general. Endorsing the European approach to antitrust, in a naïve attempt to bring high-profile cases against large internet platforms, would prioritize political expediency over the rule of law. It would open the floodgates of antitrust litigation and facilitate deleterious tendencies, such as non-economic decision-making, rent-seeking, regulatory capture, and politically motivated enforcement.

Bringing international antitrust enforcement in line with that of the EU would thus unlock a veritable Pandora’s box of concerns that might otherwise be kept in check. Chief among them is the use of antitrust laws to evade democratically and judicially established rules and legal precedent. When considering this question, it is important to see beyond any particular set of firms that enforcement officials and politicians may currently be targeting. An antitrust law expanded to consider the full scope of soft concerns that the EU aims at will not be employed against only politically disfavored companies, companies in other jurisdictions, or in order to expediently “solve” otherwise political problems. Once antitrust is expanded beyond its economic constraints and imbued with political content, it ceases to be a uniquely valuable tool for addressing real economic harms to consumers, and becomes a tool for routing around legislative and judicial constraints.

Our paper proceeds as follows. Section II analyzes the high-level differences between the American and European approaches to competition policy. Notably, this Section shows that these regimes pursue different goals, rely to varying degrees on economic insights to inform their decision-making, afford very different degrees of judicial deference to antitrust authorities, and exhibit different degrees of politization. Section III shows that the US and Europe also differ substantially in terms of the conduct that may constitute an infringement of competition law—the EU system being significantly more restrictive. Section IV turns to question of competition in digital platform markets. It argues that European competition enforcement in the digital industry provides a cautionary tale that cuts against both the adoption of ex ante regulation and a relaxation of existing antitrust standards (such as the “consumer welfare standard”). Section V posits that reducing economic concentration—sometimes cited as a byproduct of European-style competition enforcement—should not be a self-standing goal of antitrust policy. Finally, Section VI argues that many of the economic and political characteristics of the ASEAN economy cut in favor of using the US model of competition enforcement as a blueprint for further development and harmonization of ASEAN competition law.

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