March 29, 2024

The Microsoft Case: The Government's Theory, in Hindsight

Continuing my series of posts on the tenth anniversary of the Microsoft antitrust case, I want to look today at the government’s theory of the case, and how it looks with ten years of hindsight.

The source of Microsoft’s power in Windows was what the government dubbed the “applications barrier to entry”. Users chose their operating system in order to get the application software they wanted. Windows had by far the biggest and best selection of applications, due to its high market share (over 95% on the PC platform). To enter the PC OS market, a company would not only have to develop a competitive operating system but would also have to entice application developers to port their applications to the new system, which would be very slow and expensive if not impossible. This barrier to entry, coupled with its high market share, gave Microsoft monopoly power.

The rise of the browser, specifically Netscape Navigator and its built-in Java engine, threatened to reduce the applications barrier to entry, the government claimed. Software would be written to run in the browser rather than using the operating system’s services directly, and such software would run immediately on any new operating system as soon as the browser was ported to the new system. Cross-platform browsers would reduce the applications barrier to entry and thereby weaken Microsoft’s Windows monopoly. The government accused Microsoft of acting anticompetitively to sabotage the development of cross-platform browser technology.

The imminent flowering of browser-based applications was widely predicted at the time, and the evidence showed that top executives at Netscape, Microsoft, and Sun seemed to believe it. Yet we know in hindsight that things didn’t unfold that way: browser-based applications were not a big trend in 1998-2003. Why not? There are two possible explanations. Either the government was right and Microsoft did succeed in squashing the trend toward browser-based applications, or the government and the conventional wisdom were both wrong and there was really no trend to squash.

This highlights one of the main difficulties in antitrust analysis: hypothetical worlds. To evaluate the key issue of whether consumers and competition were harmed, one always needs to compare the actual world against a hypothetical world in which the defendant did not commit the accused acts. What would have happened if Microsoft had simply competed to produce the best Internet Explorer browser? It’s a fascinating question which we can never answer with certainty.

What actually happened, after Microsoft’s accused acts, the lawsuit, and the settlement, in the years since the case was filed? Netscape crumbled. The browser market became quiet; Microsoft tweaked Internet Explorer here and there but the pace of innovation was much slower than it had been during the browser war. Then the open source browser Mozilla Firefox arose from the ashes of Netscape. Firefox was slow to start but gained momentum as its developer community grew. When Firefox passed 10% market share and (arguably) exceeded IE technically, Microsoft stepped up the pace of its browser work, leading to what might be another browser war.

We also saw, finally, the rise of browser-based applications that had been predicted a decade ago. Today browser-based applications are all the rage. The applications barrier to entry is starting to shrink, though the barrier will still be significant until browser-based office suites reach parity with Microsoft Office. In short, the scenario the government predicted (absent Microsoft’s accused acts) is developing now, ten years later.

Why now? One reason is the state of technology. Today’s browser-based applications simply couldn’t have run on the computers of 1998, but today’s computers have the horsepower to handle browser-based apps and more is known about how to make them work. Another reason, perhaps, is that Microsoft is not acting against Firefox in the way it acted against Netscape a decade ago. A new browser war – in which Microsoft and Firefox compete to make the most attractive product – is the best outcome for consumers.

Life doesn’t always offer do-overs, but we may get a do-over on the browser war, and this time it looks like Microsoft will take the high road.

The Microsoft Case: A Window Into the Software Industry

This week I’m publishing reflections on the Microsoft antitrust case, which was filed ten years ago. Today I want to consider how the case change the public view of the software industry.

Microsoft’s internal emails were a key part of the government’s evidence. The emails painted a vivid picture of how the company made its strategy decisions. Executives discussed frankly how “it will be very hard to increase browser market share on the merits of [Internet Explorer] alone. It will be very important to leverage the OS asset to make people use IE”. Often the tone was one of controlling customers and sabotaging competitors, rather than technical innovation.

Probably the most cringe-inducing metaphor in the whole case was “knifing the baby”. Here’s a trial dispatch from Business Week:

In particularly colorful testimony on Nov. 5 [1998], [Apple VP Avie] Tevanian described an April, 1997, meeting between two Apple and two Microsoft officials. Tevanian, who was not at the meeting, said Microsoft officials suggested that Apple abandon its business of providing “playback” software that enables users to view multimedia content on the computers. Instead, they offered Apple the much smaller portion of the market for the tools that developers use to create the content. In Apple’s mind, though, the playback software was its baby.

According to Tevanian, Apple executive Peter Hoddie asked Microsoft officials, “‘Are you asking us to kill playback? Are you asking us to knife the baby?'” He said Microsoft official Christopher Phillips responded, “‘Yes, we want you to knife the baby.’ It was very clear.”

Stories like this shredded the public perception of software companies as idealistic lab-coated technical innovators. It wasn’t just Microsoft whose reputation took a beating – it was Apple who gave us the baby-knifing metaphor. One shrewd observer told me at the time that the difference between Microsoft and its competitors was not motive but opportunity – the other companies would have done what Microsoft did, if they had the chance.

None of these companies were as crude and brutal as they looked in court – litigation has a way of highlighting the extremes – but there was more than a grain of truth to the idea that software markets are driven by power and dealmaking, along with engineering. Another classic moment in the trial came when a Microsoft lawyer was cross-examining Netscape CEO Jim Barksdale about emails written by Netscape founder and Silicon Valley superhero Jim Clark. The lawyer asked Barksdale whether he regarded Clark as “a truthful man”. Barksdale paused before answering, “I regard him as a salesman.”

The Microsoft Case, Ten Years Later

Sunday was the tenth anniversary of the government filing its antitrust case against Microsoft. The date passed almost unnoticed, though echoes of the case continue to reverberate. This week I want to reflect on the case, with the benefit of ten years’ hindsight. I’ll write at least three posts: today, on the overall legacy of the case; Wednesday, on how the case affected the public view of Microsoft and software companies generally; and Friday, on how the government’s theory of the software market (which the courts accepted) looks in hindsight.

(Before starting, I should clarify that although I worked with the DoJ trial team through virtually the entire case – from before the case was filed, through the negotiation of the final settlement – I can’t say anything about what happened behind closed doors. My opinion is informed by everything I saw and heard, but unfortunately some of the most interesting details have to stay secret.)

Today I want to consider the overall legacy of the case. The purpose of antitrust law is to protect market competition, for the good of consumers. Thus Microsoft’s ultimate success in crushing Netscape and blunting the effect of Java only matters to the extent that it might have harmed consumers. The relevant questions are these: (1) Are the markets for operating systems and browsers healthier and more competitive than they would have been had the case not been brought? (2) Are consumers better off than they would have been had the case not been brought?

I see the case as a success by these standards, not so much because of the settlement, which most people saw as weak, but because the case taught Microsoft that ignoring antitrust concerns can be dangerous. Microsoft was routed in court and faced the possibility (though never the likelihood) of a court-ordered break-up; but the company managed to negotiate a favorable settlement when the government was distracted after the 9/11 attacks. Apparently worried that it might not be so lucky the next time, the company has moderated its behavior. It still dominates the operating system and browser markets – and it is still a fierce technical competitor, but its business and legal behavior is more moderate.

This kinder, gentler Microsoft is one of the two main legacies of the case. The other is the consensus that antitrust laws do in fact apply to high-tech companies. Though the law moves slowly – and sometimes can only deter via the possibility of after-the-fact sanctions – companies are not immune to its discipline just because they are in high-tech markets. Other powerful companies, such as Intel and Google, have learned this lesson too.

Tomorrow: how the case affected the public view of Microsoft and the software industry.

Comcast's Disappointing Defense

Last week, Comcast offered a defense in the FCC proceeding challenging the technical limitations it had placed on BitTorrent traffic in its network. (Back in October, I wrote twice about Comcast’s actions.)

The key battle line is whether Comcast is just managing its network reasonably in the face of routine network congestion, as it claims, or whether it is singling out certain kinds of traffic for unnecessary discrimination, as its critics claim. The FCC process has generated lots of verbiage, which I can’t hope to discuss, or even summarize, in this post.

I do want to call out one aspect of Comcast’s filing: the flimsiness of its technical argument.

Here’s one example (p. 14-15).

As Congresswoman Mary Bono Mack recently explained:

The service providers are watching more and more of their network monopolized by P2P bandwidth hogs who command a disproportionate amount of their network resources. . . . You might be asking yourself, why don’t the broadband service providers invest more into their networks and add more capacity? For the record, broadband service providers are investing in their networks, but simply adding more bandwidth does not solve [the P2P problem]. The reason for this is P2P applications are designed to consume as much bandwidth as is available, thus more capacity only results in more consumption.

(emphasis in original). The flaws in this argument start with the fact that the italicized segment is wrong. P2P protocols don’t aim to use more bandwidth rather than less. They’re not sparing with bandwidth, but they don’t use it for no reason, and there does come a point where they don’t want any more.

But even leaving aside the merits of the argument, what’s most remarkable here is that Comcast’s technical description of BitTorrent cites as evidence not a textbook, nor a standards document, nor a paper from the research literature, nor a paper by the designer of BitTorrent, nor a document from the BitTorrent company, nor the statement of any expert, but a speech by a member of Congress. Congressmembers know many things, but they’re not exactly the first group you would turn to for information about how network protocols work.

This is not the only odd source that Comcast cites. Later (p. 28) they claim that the forged TCP Reset packets that they send shouldn’t be called “forged”. For this proposition they cite some guy named George Ou who blogs at ZDNet. They give no reason why we should believe Mr. Ou on this point. My point isn’t to attack Mr. Ou, who for all I know might actually have some relevant expertise. My point is that if this is the most authoritative citation Comcast can find, then their argument doesn’t look very solid. (And, indeed, it seems pretty uncontroversial to call these particular packets “forged”, given that they mislead the recipient about (1) which IP address sent the packet, and (2) why the packet was sent.)

Comcast is a big company with plenty of resources. It’s a bit depressing that they would file arguments like this with the FCC, an agency smart enough to tell the difference. Is this really the standard of technical argumentation in FCC proceedings?

Google Objects to Microhoo: Pot Calling Kettle Black?

Last week Microsoft offered to buy Yahoo at a big premium over Yahoo’s current stock price; and Google complained vehemently that Microsoft’s purchase of Yahoo would reduce competition. There’s been tons of commentary about this. Here’s mine.

The first question to ask is why Microsoft made such a high offer for Yahoo. One possibility is that Microsoft thinks the market had drastically undervalued Yahoo, making it a good investment even at a big markup. This seems unlikely.

A more plausible theory is that Microsoft thinks Yahoo is a lot more valuable when combined with Microsoft than it would be on its own. Why might this be? There are two plausible theories.

The synergy theory says that combining Yahoo’s businesses with Microsoft’s businesses creates lots of extra value, that is that the whole is much more profitable than the parts would be separately.

The market structure theory says that Microsoft benefits from Yahoo’s presence in the market (as a counterweight to Google), that Microsoft worried that Yahoo’s market position was starting to slip, so Microsoft acted to prop up Yahoo by giving Yahoo credible access to capital and strong management. In this theory, Microsoft cares less (or not at all) about actually combining the businesses, and wants mostly to keep Google from capturing Yahoo’s market share.

My guess is that both theories have some merit – that Microsoft’s offer is both offensive (seeking synergies) and defensive (maintaining market structure).

Google objected almost immediately that a Microsoft-Yahoo merger would reduce competition to the extent that government should intervene to block the merger or restrict the conduct of the merged entity. The commentary on Google’s complaint has focused on two points. First, at least in some markets, two-way competition between Microhoo and Google might be more vigorous than the current three-way competition between a dominant Google and two rivals. Second, even assuming that the antitrust authorities ultimately reject Google’s argument and allow the merger to proceed, government scrutiny will delay the merger and distract Microsoft and Yahoo, thereby helping Google.

Complaining has downsides for Google too – a government skeptical of acquisitions by dominant high-tech companies could easily boomerang and cause Google its own antitrust headaches down the road.

So why is Google complaining, despite this risk? The most intriguing possibility is that Google is working the refs. Athletes and coaches often complain to the referee about a call, knowing that the ref won’t change the call, but hoping to generate some sympathy that will pay off next time a close call has to be made. Suppose Google complains, and the government rejects its complaint. Next time Google makes an acquisition and the government comes starts asking questions, Google can argue that if the government didn’t do anything about the Microhoo merger, then it should lay off Google too.

It’s fun to toss around these Machiavellian theories, but I doubt Google actually thought all this through before it reacted. Whatever the explanation, now that it has reacted, it’s stuck with the consequences of its reaction – just as Microsoft is stuck, for better or worse, with its offer to buy Yahoo.