November 23, 2024

European Antitrust Fines Against Intel: Possibly Justified

Last week the European Commission competition authorities charged Intel with anticompetitive behavior in the market for microprocessor chips, and levied a €1.06 billion ($1.45 billion) fine on the company. Some commentators attacked the ruling as ridiculous on its face. I disagree. Let me explain why the European action, though not conclusively justified at this point, is at least plausible.

The starting point of any competition analysis is to recall the purpose of competition law: not to protect rival firms (such as AMD in this case), but to protect competition for the benefit of consumers. The key is to understand what is fair competition and what is not. If a firm dominates a market, and even drives other firms out, but does so by producing better products at better prices, they deserve applause. If a dominant firm takes steps that are aimed more at undermining competition than at serving customers, then they may be crossing the line into anticompetitive behavior.

To do even a superficial analysis in a single blog post, we’re going to have to make some assumptions. First, for the sake of this post let’s accept as true the EC’s claims about Intel’s specific actions. Second, let’s set aside the details of European law and instead ask whether Intel’s actions were fair and justified. Third, let’s assume that there is a single market for processor chips, in the sense that any processor chip can be used in any system. A serious analysis would have to consider carefully all of these factors, but these assumptions will help us get started.

With all that in mind, does the EC have a plausible case against Intel?

First we have to ask whether Intel has monopoly power. Economists define monopoly power as the ability to raise prices above the competitive level without losing money as a result. We know that Intel has high market share, but that by itself does not imply monopoly power. Presumably the EC will argue that there is a significant barrier to entry which keeps new firms out of the microprocessor market, and that this barrier to entry plus Intel’s high market share adds up to monopoly power. This is at least plausible, and there isn’t space here to dissect that argument in detail, so let’s accept it for the sake of our analysis.

Now: having monopoly power, did Intel abuse that power by acting anticompetitively?

The EC accused Intel of two anticompetitive strategies. First, the EC says that Intel gave PC makers discounts if they agreed to ship Intel chips in 100% of their systems, or 80% of their systems. Is this anticompetitive? It’s hard to say. Volume discounts are common in many industries, but this is not a typical volume discount. The price goes down when the customer buys more Intel chips — that’s a typical volume discount — but the price of Intel chips also goes up when the customer buys more competing chips — which is unusual and might have anticompetitive effects. Whether Intel has a competitive justification for this remains to be seen.

Second, and more troubling, the EC says that “Intel awarded computer manufacturers payments – unrelated to any particular purchases from Intel – on condition that these computer manufacturers postponed or cancelled the launch of specific AMD-based products and/or put restrictions on the distribution of specific AMD-based products.” This one seems hard for Intel to justify. A firm with monopoly power, spending money to block competitor’s distribution channels, is a classic anticompetitive strategy.

None of this establishes conclusively that Intel broke the law, or that the EC’s fine is justified. We made a lot of assumptions along the way, and we would have to reconsider each of them carefully, before we could conclude that the EC’s argument is correct. We would also need to give Intel a chance to offer pro-competitive justifications for their behavior. But despite all of these caveats, I think we can conclude that although it is far from proven at this point, the EC’s case should be taken seriously.

A Modest Proposal: Three-Strikes for Print

Yesterday the French parliament adopted a proposal to create a “three-strikes” system that would kick people off the Internet if they are accused of copyright infringement three times.

This is such a good idea that it should be applied to other media as well. Here is my modest proposal to extend three-strikes to the medium of print, that is, to words on paper.

My proposed system is simplicity itself. The government sets up a registry of accused infringers. Anybody can send a complaint to the registry, asserting that someone is infringing their copyright in the print medium. If the government registry receives three complaints about a person, that person is banned for a year from using print.

As in the Internet case, the ban applies to both reading and writing, and to all uses of print, including informal ones. In short, a banned person may not write or read anything for a year.

A few naysayers may argue that print bans might be hard to enforce, and that banning communication based on mere accusations of wrongdoing raises some minor issues of due process and free speech. But if those issues don’t trouble us in the Internet setting, why should they trouble us here?

Yes, if banned from using print, some students will be unable to do their school work, some adults will face minor inconvenience in their daily lives, and a few troublemakers will not be allowed to participate in — or even listen to — political debate. Maybe they’ll think more carefully the next time, before allowing themselves to be accused of copyright infringement.

In short, a three-strikes system is just as good an idea for print as it is for the Internet. Which country will be the first to adopt it?

Once we have adopted three-strikes for print, we can move on to other media. Next on the list: three-strikes systems for sound waves, and light waves. These media are too important to leave unprotected.

[Français]

Breathalyzer Source Code Secrecy Endangers Minnesota Drunk Driving Convictions

The Minnesota Supreme Court ruled recently that defendants accused of drunk driving in the state are entitled to have their experts inspect the source code for the software in the Intoxilyzer breath-testing machines used by police to gauge the defendants’ blood alcohol levels. The defendants argued, successfully, that they were entitled to examine and challenge the evidence against them, including the design and functioning of devices used to generate that evidence.

The ruling puts many of the state’s drunk driving prosecutions on thin ice, because CMI, the Intoxilyzer’s maker, is withholding the source code and the state apparently has no way to force CMI to provide the code.

Eric Rescorla argues, reasonably, that breath testers have many potential failure modes unrelated to software, and that source code analysis can be labor-intensive and might not turn up any clear problems. Both arguments are valid, as far as they go.

I’m not a lawyer, so I won’t try to guess whether the court’s ruling was correct as a matter of law. But the ruling does seem right as a matter of policy. If we are troubled by criminal convictions relying on secret evidence, then we should also be troubled by convictions relying on evidence generated by a secret process. To the extent that the Intoxilyzer functions as a secret process, the state should not be relying on it in criminal prosecutions.

(Though I haven’t thought carefully about the question, I might potentially draw a different policy conclusion in a civil case, where the standard of proof is preponderance of evidence, rather than guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.)

The problem is illustrated nicely by a contradiction in the arguments that CMI and the state are making. On the one hand, they argue that the machine’s source code contains valuable trade secrets — I’ll call them the “secret sauce” — and that CMI’s business would be substantially harmed if its competitors learned about the secret sauce. On the other hand, they argue that there is no need to examine the source code because it operates straightforwardly, just reading values from some sensors and doing simple calculations to derive a blood alcohol estimate.

It’s hard to see how both arguments can be correct. If the software contains secret sauce, then by definition it has aspects that are neither obvious nor straightforward, and those aspects are important for the software’s operation. In other words, the secret sauce — whatever it is — must relevant to the defendants’ claims.

As in electronic voting, where we have seen similar secrecy arguments, one can’t help suspecting that the real “secret” is that the software quality is not what it should be. A previous study of source code from New Jersey breath testers did appear to find some embarrassing errors.

Let’s hope that breath tester companies can do better than e-voting companies. A rigorous, independent evaluation of the breath tester source code would either determine that the code is sound, or it would undercover problems that could then be fixed, to restore confidence in the machines. Either way, the police in Minnesota would end up with a reliable tool for giving drunk drivers the punishment they deserve.

Chinese Internet Censorship: See It For Yourself

You probably know already that the Chinese government censors Internet traffic. But you might not have known that you can experience this censorship yourself. Here’s how:

(1) Open up another browser window or tab, so you can browse without losing this page.

(2) In the other window, browse to baidu.com. This is a search engine located in China.

(3) Search for an innocuous term such as “freedom to tinker”. You’ll see a list of search results, sent back by Baidu’s servers in China.

(4) Now return to the main page of baidu.com, and search for “Falun Gong”. [Falun Gong is a dissident religious group that is banned in China.]

(5) At this point your browser will report an error — it might say that the connection was interrupted or that the page could not be loaded. What really happened is that the Great Firewall of China saw your Internet packets, containing the forbidden term “Falun Gong”, and responded by disrupting your connection to Baidu.

(6) Now try to go back to the Baidu home page. You’ll find that this connection is disrupted too. Just a minute ago, you could visit the Baidu page with no trouble, but now you’re blocked. The Great Firewall is now cutting you off from Baidu, because you searched for Falun Gong.

(7) After a few minutes, you’ll be allowed to connect to Baidu again, and you can do more experiments.

(Reportedly, users in China see different behavior. When they search for “Falun Gong” on Baidu, the connection isn’t blocked. Instead, they see “sanitized” search results, containing only pages that criticize Falun Gong.)

If you do try more experiments, feel free to report your results in the comments.

Fingerprinting Blank Paper Using Commodity Scanners

Today Will Clarkson, Tim Weyrich, Adam Finkelstein, Nadia Heninger, Alex Halderman and I released a paper, Fingerprinting Blank Paper Using Commodity Scanners. The paper will appear in the Proceedings of the IEEE Symposium on Security and Privacy, in May 2009.

Here’s the paper’s abstract:

This paper presents a novel technique for authenticating physical documents based on random, naturally occurring imperfections in paper texture. We introduce a new method for measuring the three-dimensional surface of a page using only a commodity scanner and without modifying the document in any way. From this physical feature, we generate a concise fingerprint that uniquely identifies the document. Our technique is secure against counterfeiting and robust to harsh handling; it can be used even before any content is printed on a page. It has a wide range of applications, including detecting forged currency and tickets, authenticating passports, and halting counterfeit goods. Document identification could also be applied maliciously to de-anonymize printed surveys and to compromise the secrecy of paper ballots.

Viewed under a microscope, an ordinary piece of paper looks like this:

The microscope clearly shows individual wood fibers, laid down in a pattern that is unique to this piece of paper.

If you scan a piece of paper on an ordinary desktop scanner, it just looks white. But pick a small area of the paper, digitally enhance the contrast and expand the image, and you see something like this:

The light and dark areas you see are due to two factors: inherent color variation in the surface, and partial shadows cast by fibers in the paper surface. If you rotate the paper and scan again, the inherent color at each point will be the same, but the shadows will be different because the scanner’s light source will strike the paper from a different angle. These differences allow us to map out the tiny hills and valleys on the surface of the paper.

Here is a visualization of surface shape from one of our experiments:

This part of the paper had the word “sum” printed on it. You can clearly see the raised areas where toner was applied to the paper to make the letters. Around the letters you can see the background texture of the paper.

Computing the surface texture is only one part of the job. From the texture, you want to compute a concise, secure “fingerprint” which can survive ordinary wear and tear on the paper, such as crumpling, scribbling or printing, and moisture. You also want to understand how secure the technology will be in various applications. Our full paper addresses these issues too. The bottom-line result is a sort of unique fingerprint for each piece of paper, which can be determined using an ordinary desktop scanner.

For more information, see the project website or our research paper.