Chillin'Competition

Before our world was turned upside down, a major theme in our community concerned the possibility of regulating ex ante online platforms. No matter how challenging the times, it is safe to predict that this question will not completely go away in the foreseeable future.

For the same reason, it makes sense to start a conversation about the possible ex ante regulation of online platforms, and more precisely about (i) why we would want it and (ii) what it would look like if it is ever going to see the light of day. Further posts will follow, as well as, hopefully, some sort of online discussion.

I would not break new ground by saying that it is an exercise that requires careful reflection. Any regulatory regime needs to be scrupulously crafted to ensure that the public interest is preserved. When there is so much at stake this is often a challenge. And claiming that something ‘needs to be done’ is not sufficiently compelling.

Fortunately, we have a template that gives us an idea of why and when to regulate online platforms. I see it as an insurance against sub-optimal outcomes. The EU telecoms regime (that is, the EU Regulatory Framework for electronic communications) asks the right questions and provides the right answers. Every time I look into it I realise that it is, in fact, an impressive achievement.

The EU telecoms regime has always been part of my research and teaching and thought it would be a good idea to start by discussing on the blog how a regulatory framework inspired in its approach would work, and whether there are good reasons to depart from the principles and approach enshrined in it.

Principles of regulation (and how they could apply to digital markets)

When the European Commission proposed the adoption of a new regulatory framework for electronic communications, it was aware of the challenge posed by innovation and technological evolution. Telecommunications activities were undergoing major changes; it was necessary to adapt regulation so that it would not become obsolete (that intervention would continue where it would no longer be necessary and/or it would be unable to address new issues).

The main principles of the framework can be summarised as follows:

• Flexibility and adaptability: legislation sets the objectives and the procedure to be followed by regulatory authorities; it does not directly prescribe the remedies.
• No regulation for the sake of regulation: the framework is premised on regulatory humility. Competition is seen as the best form of regulation, and as the default. Regulatory intervention only takes place where it can be shown that competition law would be unable to address the problem (mainly due to the problems that come with proactive remedies) and where there are major and lasting structural problems in a market.
• Technology neutrality: the framework was crafted to ensure that it would not favour a particular technology over others, and that the market, not regulation, would pick winners and losers.
• Bias against intervention in newly emerging markets: the framework is particularly careful not to intervene in nascent markets, where it is difficult, by definition to anticipate their evolution.

If ex ante regulation is ever adopted for online platforms, I hope the principles outlined above will also guide the regime. Two particular aspects deserve attention.

First, I cannot think of a good reason why an ex ante regime for platforms should not revolve around principles, as opposed to outcomes. In other words: it seems to me that ex ante regulation should provide for the objectives and the process through which the need for intervention is considered. By the same token, the details of intervention should be left to a regulatory authority. The temptation to enshrine particular remedies in legislation may be strong. Wisely, the EU legislature resisted it.

Second, it seems to me that neutrality should be a key guiding principle, in particular when (as acknowledged in the Special Advisers’ Report), there is much that we do not know about the gains resulting from practices in the digital sphere. There appears to be every reason to ensure that any ex ante regime does not have a built-in bias in favour of, or against, certain practices or business models.

The operation of the regime

As a principles-based regime, the EU telecoms regime leaves it to the regulatory authority to decide, on a regular basis, whether intervention is warranted and, if so, the remedies that may be needed to promote competition and innovation on a particular market segment.

How does the system work? If you are not familiar with the framework, you may not know that market definition (understood in the competition law sense) is central to the identification of regulatory concerns. The best explanation of when and why remedial action may be warranted is to be found, I think, in the Commission’s Explanatory Note on market definition.

The starting point of the analysis is to define, in accordance with competition law principles, a market on a segment that is potentially competitive and that is adjacent to a potential bottleneck. In telecoms, this adjacent segment could be, for instance, the one for retail broadband services (and the potential bottleneck the local loop).

In the digital sphere, this adjacent segment could be (I mention some examples that can be easily visualised) the online distribution of a particular good (say, books), a particular category of app (say, music), or a particular online service (say, travel). Each of these segments would relate to a particular bottleneck segment. Some good candidate markets that are less easy to visualise are extensively discussed in the CMA’s Interim Report.

The key question is whether these adjacent segments are effectively competitive. If they turn out to be effectively competitive – in the sense that no dominant position can be identified – then regulation would not be warranted. No matter how strong the position of a market player on the potential bottleneck segment, no remedial action will take place (again, no regulation for the sake of regulation).

If they are not effectively competitive, then the two main questions that follow are, first, whether the potential bottleneck segment to which these activities relate has ‘high and non-transitory barriers to entry’ and, second, whether a dominant position can be established on this market. As part of this assessment, it would be necessary to consider whether this position is likely to last in the foreseeable future or whether, instead, technology and innovation would undermine this position (for instance, by allowing the firms on the adjacent segment to circumvent the bottleneck).

Only where these two questions are answered in the affirmative will the regulatory authority be in a position to impose remedies, which have to be adapted to the specific demands of every case (they range from transparency and/or non-discrimination obligations to the functional separation of some activities).

The operation of the EU telecoms regime provides two valuable lessons. Again, I cannot think of a good reason to deviate from them.

First, regulatory action should be based on a market-by-market assessment of the conditions of competition, not on a broad-brush identification of companies as having a ‘special status’ on the basis of vaguer, more general criteria. Second, where a market is effectively competitive absent intervention, regulatory obligations would not be warranted. In such circumstances, they can well do more harm than good.

As usual, your thoughts and comments would be most welcome.

Below you find, reduced to the essential, the logic of the framework.

Last week’s decision by the Autorité de la Concurrence is remarkable for several reasons, in particular because it provides for interim measures and it is about exploitative conduct. In that sense, it is an excellent example of what the new competition law will bring.

Traditional competition law was reluctant to engage with practices involving the administration of complex, prescriptive remedies (such as the redesign of a product or the determination of the terms and conditions under which firms are to deal with rivals and/or customers).

The decision reveals how much things are changing. As summarised in the picture above, the Autorité does not hesitate to mandate that Google set up a framework for its negotiations with press publishers and their remuneration.

At the same time, the decision feels like a déjà vu. When reading it, I could not avoid being reminded of the interim measures adopted by the Commission in IMS Health back in 2001 (and the subsequent developments before the then Court of First Instance).

As an instrument that invites us to ponder both the past and the future, it is a good starting point for a serene debate about the European competition law system and its evolution. Your thoughts and comments would, as usual, be most welcome.

Interim measures: IMS Health, Broadcom and Google

It is worth reading (or re-reading) the Order in IMS Health. As I understand it, there were two main reasons why the President of the CFI suspended the implementation of the interim measures decision in that case.

First, the Order explains that the Commission’s interpretation of the existing case law (in particular Magill) was, at best, controversial. Second, the President concluded that, rather than preserving the status quo (interim measures are known as mesures conservatoires for a reason), it sought to alter the market structure by means of proactive remedies changing the firm’s business model.

Following this experience, it would have been reasonable to anticipate that any new interim measures decision would be more risk averse than IMS Health. The European Commission’s decision in Broadcom (which concerned a well-established category of conduct, and involved a plain vanilla cease-and-desist obligation) comes across as the model of what one could have expected.

The Autorité’s decision shows that, contrary to this view, the days of ambitious action by means of interim measures, IMS Health-style, may not only not be over, but about to start.

Reasonable people can disagree about the legal analysis underpinning the decision. Whether or not the said analysis is correct is not the point. Instead, the fascinating issue – at least from the perspective of an independent academic – is that it breaks new ground, and does so by means of an unusual instrument.

At least in part, the assessment revolves around the idea that Google, when dealing with press publishers, has used its dominant position to frustrate the objective of the legislature, which was to allow press publishers to receive adequate remuneration for the exploitation of their sui generis rights. In this regard, Article 102 TFEU seems to be applied as a ‘safety net’ that assists and completes another area of economic regulation (a growing trend in contemporary enforcement).

A second, equally fascinating, point is that the interim measures decision only seems to make sense insofar as, and for as long as, Google displays protected content (one of the interim measures in fact requires the firm to keep displaying protected content).

Alas, copyright legislation merely provides for a right to authorise or prohibit the use of content. It is not a right to receive adequate remuneration (some rights are configured as such) and it does not provide for a right to have the said content displayed. In this sense, there seems to be a limit as to what the Autorité can achieve (at least under the theory of liability on which the decision is based).

As a result, the endgame is uncertain. Much depends, it seems, on how the various stakeholders react to intervention. I cannot avoid wondering whether the Autorité would go as far as to introduce a duty to display protected content. That would involve, again, breaking new ground, in more ways than one – but would also be consistent with the new competition law. An external observer could hardly ask for more.

Judicial review and the public interest

The Autorité’s decision exemplifies a key feature of the European competition law system. As I have been able to gather through my research, competition authorities in the EU are not paralysed by fear of judicial review. Unlike their US counterparts, they take risks when pursuing their policy objectives (which sometimes involves departing from the case law).

Inevitably, the higher the risk taken, the more likely it is to see a decision annulled by a review court. And such an outcome is a good thing and a positive indicator: I read somewhere, not long ago, that, if the rate of annulments is too low, it probably means that an authority is not doing its job properly. In this sense, I hope that the attitudes to judicial review will not change in the new environment (in spite of growing anxiety among some stakeholders, which I fully understand).

The public interest is advanced through the correction of errors of law and of fact and through the definition of the boundaries of the system. By the same token, the annulment of a decision is not a ‘blow’ or a ‘defeat’ (words I always disliked). It is not a sign of judges ‘not getting it’ or of existing doctrines being flawed and in need of change, either. It is, instead, the sound of the system working.

As I was drafting, and thinking about, the past few posts, an idea kept coming back: the ‘by object’ category does not work like (and is very different from) per se restraints in US antitrust. Comparing the two (or presenting ‘by object’ infringements as the European version of per se prohibitions) is not accurate and can be misleading.

Some commentators like to turn to the US system and its categories (per se, ‘quick look’ and so on). to make sense of the EU law on restrictions by object. This is probably one of the reasons why there has been confusion about what the evaluation of the object of a practice entails under Article 101(1) TFEU.

If, instead of borrowing concepts from other legal systems, one reads the case law of the Court of Justice, it is easy to understand how different the two categories are.

Suffice it to compare Generics and Stephen Breyer’s Opinion in Actavis.

In Actavis, the majority agreed to examine reverse payment settlements under the rule of reason. In this sense, it went against the FTC’s position, which argued that such payments should be presumptively unlawful and subject to a ‘quick look’.

Justice Breyer explained in his opinion that the rule of reason is more appropriate as the likelihood of anticompetitive effects of this practice is very much context-dependent: the size of the reverse payment and, by the same token, the availability of justifications vary from one case to another. The majority concluded that the ‘quick look’ does not always fit all such practices.

In Generics, the Court ruled that it is necessary to evaluate, on a case-by-case basis, whether a reverse payment has an anticompetitive object in the economic and legal context of which it is a part.

The factors considered in the analysis are the same as those pondered by the US Supreme Court under the rule of reason: the size of the reverse payment and whether there is a plausible procompetitive rationale for it.

In this sense, there is an overlap between the two inquiries: the analysis at the ‘by object’ stage under Article 101(1) TFEU stretches to the point that it engages in a context-specific assessment of the nature of the practice. For the same reasons, it does not seem appropriate to draw analogies between ‘by object’ and per se.

To be sure, the purpose of the inquiry at the ‘by object’ stage and under the rule of reason is different. In Actavis, the point of the analysis is to evaluate the effects of the payment; in Generics, to make sense of the objective purpose of the practice.

In any event, I hope the bottomline is clear: the temptation to treat the ‘by object’ and per se categories may be strong, but it does not reflect the reality of what courts do and how they interpret the key provisions.

The case-by-case, context-specific approach to the identification of the most egregious infringements is a European specificity (and one that gets, in my view, the balance right).

It was relatively frequent to hear, until not so long ago, that it was not possible to discern, from the case law, a clear set of principles spelling out what a restriction of competition is. I have never been of this view (as explained here) but I understand where it was coming from.

The case law that followed the adoption of Regulation 1/2003 significantly clarified matters. Generics and Budapest Bank, the two most recent landmarks, provide the answers and the vocabulary we needed to present the Court’s interpretation of the notion of restriction by object in a systematic way.

Following the analysis of the said two judgments (I look forward to sharing some more thoughts on them in due course), I told myself it could be a good idea to draw a road map of the principles underpinning the case law and the way they have been applied by the Court over the years (there appears to be a clear and consistent trend dating back to the early days).

The road map is presented below and can also be downloaded here.

When evaluating whether an agreement amounts to a ‘by object’ infringement, two separate questions arise:

• First, what would an authority (or claimant) need to show to discharge its legal burden?
• Second, what sort of contrary evidence would the parties to the agreement need to adduce, and to what standard?

In relation to the first question, I understand the case law, as synthesised in Generics and Budapest Bank, as revolving around the following principles:

It was clear since Murphy that the parties may show that an agreement is not capable of restricting competition (and thus not restrictive, whether by object or effect). Generics and Budapest Bank confirm (and make it explicit) that the parties may also provide evidence, for the same purposes, showing that the agreement in question is capable of having a pro-competitive or ambivalent impact. More precisely:

Your comments and questions would be most welcome.

The Court has just delivered another key ruling on restrictions of competition (see here for the French version). The judgment, just like AG Bobek’s Opinion in the case, is valuable in that it clarifies all the remaining controversies around the notion. The principles of the case law have been confirmed in an explicit way that does not seem to leave much scope for ambiguity. In addition, the judgment provides a template of how the analysis is to be conducted in practice.

The fundamental contributions of the judgment are the following (some of the points are explained at length below):

• The analysis of the counterfactual is relevant at the ‘by object’ stage (and the ‘by effect’ stage too): This question has been widely discussed (including in this blog) in recent years. While the case law was sufficiently clear already, Budapest Bank is valuable in that it provides a concrete example of how the counterfactual may be relevant to rule out that an agreement is restrictive by object or effect (and thus not caught by Article 101(1) TFEU). Paras 82 and 83 deserve particular attention in this regard (and they probably raise the single most relevant points of the judgment).
• The ‘by object’ category is only appropriate where there is sufficient experience about a practice: Budapest Bank fleshes out the contribution made in Cartes Bancaires. If there is no consensus about a practice (its nature, its pro- and anticompetitive effects), the Court explains, the ‘by object’ category is not appropriate.
• The analysis of the object of the agreement is a case-by-case, context-specific inquiry: It is not unusual to hear that the ‘by object’ category is a ‘shortcut’ aimed to make it easier and/or faster to establish restrictions. Budapest Bank shows that this characterisation does not reflect the reality of the case law. The inquiry is context-specific and makes it necessary to consider the peculiarities of the economic and legal context, and this in light of a series of indicators (including the counterfactual, the pro-competitive effects that the agreement is capable of achieving and the regulatory context).
• The objective purpose of the agreement needs to be effectively established: The judgment gives a clear answer to a key question: what if the agreement pursues two or more objectives simultaneously? What is the object of the agreement? What counts, the Court explains, are the objectives that are effectively established, not the objectives that are invoked (para 69). This is in line with Paroxetine.

Establishing the object of an agreement is a case-by-case, context-specific inquiry

It has become commonplace to characterise the ‘by object’ category as a ‘shortcut’. According to this view, it is sufficient to check whether the agreement is on the ‘list’ of ‘by object’ infringements to establish a restriction. Thus, it would be enough to take a ‘quick look’ to conclude that it is prima facie prohibited.

Budapest Bank shows that this characterisation of the case law (that seems to apply the logic of the US system to the EU legal order) has little to do with the way in which the ECJ conducts (and has always conducted) its analysis. The evaluation of the object of an agreement can be very detailed (the analysis of the question covers no fewer than 35 paragraphs) and can be as complex as showing that the same agreement has anticompetitive effects.

Accordingly, it is not sufficient to show that some clauses are suspicious (or that they are ‘on the list’). For instance, the Court explains that even an agreement that eliminates competition on a large fraction of the costs of two undertakings (or that sets a ceiling on the level of commissions to be paid) is not necessarily restrictive by object (paras 77 and 78).

Once again, the Court points out that the analysis is not complete without an evaluation of the relevant economic and legal context. The context is taken so seriously that, at several stages of the analysis, it explains that, without all the relevant information, it cannot come to a conclusion about whether the agreement has, as its object, the restriction of competition.

What sort of evidence is relevant at the ‘by object’ stage?

Unlike some judgments delivered in the context of a preliminary reference, Budapest Bank sets out in detail how the analysis is to be conducted in practice. The analysis complements Paroxetine very effectively.

In Paroxetine, the Court outlined what an authority needs to show to discharge its legal burden of proof: that the agreement has no plausible purpose other than the restriction of competition. Budapest Bank, in turn, is explicit about the sort of evidence that the parties may put forward to show that the agreement does not amount to a ‘by object’ infringement. The relevant factors in this regard are:

• Economic analysis: The parties may show, in light of formal economic analysis, that the object of the agreement is not anticompetitive. In this regard, Budapest Bank builds on Cartes Bancaires (which acknowledged that the two-sided nature of a market can shed light on the rationale of a practice).
• Experience (or, rather, the lack of experience): In Budapest Bank, the Court holds that the ‘by object’ category is only appropriate where there is robust and reliable (‘solide et fiable’) experience about the nature of the agreement (para 76). In this sense, the Court suggests that there should be a consensus about the status of the practice (see also para 79). Absent a consensus, the analysis of its effects becomes necessary.
• The pro-competitive effects of the agreeement: Paroxetine (in line with AG Bobek and Kokott) made it clear that the pro-competitive effects of an agreement are relevant as part of the evaluation of the economic and legal context. Budapest Bank confirms this point. Thus, the idea that these effects can only be considered under Article 101(3) TFEU can finally be put to rest. The pro-competitive dimension is also a factor when ascertaining whether there is a restriction in the first place (para 82).
• The counterfactual: Even if it was implicit in the preceding case law, it is useful to see the Court explain how the counterfactual (that is, the conditions of competition that would have existed in the absence of the agreement) can be considered. The parties claimed that the agreement was not restrictive by object because, in its absence, the conditions of competition would have been worse. The Court clarifies that evidence in this sense is acceptable (paras 82-83). It makes sense to copy these two paragraphs below[1] (in French for the moment). If there was any doubt, the Court also points out that the counterfactual is also relevant at the ‘by effect’ stage (see, in addition to para 82, paras 55 and 75).

Paragraphs 82 and 83 also show that the applicable threshold is one of plausibility (as suggested in Paroxetine too). It would be enough for the parties to establish that there are, a priori, serious indications that the agreement is capable of improving the conditions of competition that would otherwise have existed. If the evidence meets this threshold, the agreement is not restrictive by object and an analysis of effects is necessary.

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(By Alfonso Lamadrid de Pablo and José Luis Buendía)

The Covid-19 outbreak is putting societies, institutions, companies, families and individuals to the test. Like all major crises, it is exposing our strengths and weaknesses, our contradictions and limitations. A common threat of unprecedented scale has revealed, once again, that our societies are capable of the very best and the very worst. Over the past few days, we have witnessed inspiring examples of empathy and solidarity, but also prejudice, frustration and tension. We have the chance to show we are up to the task. How we collectively choose to react to this crisis will define our future.

Like all major crises, the Covid-19 outbreak is also straining the European Union, bringing once again unresolved tensions between Member States to the surface, and awakening dangerous currents of misunderstanding among citizens. Critics of EU integration have jumped on the occasion, failing to realize that the problem calls for more, not less EU. At the current stage of European integration, absent a fiscal union and with limited EU competences on public health, decisions remain mainly in the hands of national governments controlled by national Parliaments. Disagreements among EU Member States within the European Council are sometimes desirable, and sometimes not so much, but they are perhaps inevitable. It is not only a matter of attitude and prejudice, but also of institutional and political constraints. While we wait for consensus among national governments on a comprehensive political response, other constructive and complementary solutions must be explored.

The European Commission can be the driving force in the pursuit of EU solidarity. Unlike national governments, the Commission is entrusted with safeguarding the general interests of the Union as a whole. President von der Leyen has committed to exploring any options available within the limits of the Treaties. The Commission has both the responsibility and the power to take decisive action, and to shape the reactions of Member States to the crisis in line with the general interest. The Commission cannot require Member States to ignore or work around existing constraints, but it can impose proportionate ones.

Indeed, while the Commission’s powers may be limited in certain areas, they are strong and decisive in others. Notably, the Commission enjoys the exclusive competence to control, under State aid rules, the measures adopted by Member States to support economic operators. Over the past few days, the Commission has made a significant effort to exercise these powers swiftly and responsibly, adopting a Temporary Framework and authorizing a considerable number of national measures to support the economy in the context of the pandemic. As we write, the Commission has announced an imminent amendment to the Temporary Framework aimed at enlarging the categories of permitted aid.

The unquestionable necessity of allowing the speedy authorization of Covid-19-related national measures should, however, not blind us to their inevitable negative side-effects. The “full flexibility” recognized by the Temporary Framework applies in theory to all Member States. In practice, however, it mostly benefits deeper-pocketed Member States with the means and the budget to spend the greatest resources. Note that the Member States that benefit disproportionately from this policy are also the champions of austerity Member States that, rightly or wrongly, oppose other solidarity instruments like corona bonds. Under the current Temporary Framework, all Member States enjoy the same freedom to unleash their economic arsenal, but some may end up using bazookas, while others are stuck using slingshots.

Massive capital injections by only certain Member States might lead to massive distortions of competition. Companies and sectors from wealthy Member States may enjoy much more support to weather the crisis than their competitors established elsewhere in the EU, regardless of where the ongoing crisis happens to hit harder. Under the current circumstances, this could trigger the market exit of companies that would have normally survived, and vice versa. Competitive asymmetries deriving from State aid would moreover be exacerbated should national governments fail to reach an agreement on mutualizing budget risks.

This scenario is not inevitable. It is within the power of the European Commission to ensure sure that State aid is awarded in a way that minimizes any distortions of competition and, by the same token, fosters EU solidarity. The Commission itself recognizes in the Temporary Framework that a coordinated effort will make the measures adopted more effective and may even foster a quicker recovery. The Framework also emphasizes that this is not the time for a harmful subsidies race.

Our proposal is that the Commission amend the Temporary Framework in order to make the compatibility of State aid conditional on the provision of compensation for the competitive distortions that they necessarily create. This compensation would take the form of a contribution to the support of companies established in other Member States. The contribution could be equivalent to a percentage (for example, 15%) of the public resources involved in the measures at issue. Each Member State would be able to propose specific ways to channel these contributions in a way that minimizes competitive distortions. The Commission would assess their sufficiency prior to authorizing the aid, and it would also ensure that most of the compensation is received by those who need it the most.

In order to speed up the approval process, the Commission could also predetermine ex ante that contributions to a “European Solidarity Fund” would be presumed an acceptable compensation in this regard. The Fund could be initially established by some Member States as a vehicle allowing financial solidarity among them, but would be open all  Member States. The Fund itself should also be notified under State aid rules and could obtain Commission approval as an “Important Project of Common European Interest” (IPCEI).

We see no EU law impediment to implementing this proposal. Making the compatibility of State aid measures subject to compensatory conditions would not in itself entail any deviation from the Commission’s standard assessment. The rules adopted by the Commission to manage the support to financial institutions in the context of the past crisis were accompanied by strict conditions aimed at minimizing distortions of trade and competition. To be sure, while requiring direct compensation from the State which granted the aid would constitute a novelty, this innovation would be justified. Indeed, the current circumstances do not permit the use of traditional safeguards, based on limiting the amounts of aid granted.

Several national measures have already been authorized, but it is not too late to take action. Public support measures are here to stay and are likely to materialize in unprecedented volumes of aid. Failure to prevent further asymmetries would only make matters worse. Under this proposal, Member States would retain the ability to support their national economies, subject only to the condition that they contribute, proportionately to their means and to their measures, to minimizing distortions to the internal market. This way, State aid policy could better contribute to the solution, rather than the problem.

Important details should be ironed out following an urgent consultation with Member States. Some version of this formula would not only be sensible and feasible, but also indispensable. It would mitigate serious distortions and contribute to levelling the playing field. In the absence of a political agreement between Member States, it would create a proportionate legal obligation to prevent harm to companies established in other EU countries, easing ‘rich’ Member States’ task of justifying their solidarity efforts to their citizens and parliaments. It would show precisely what the European Union is for and would restore citizens’ trust in the ideals of European integration. Let us not forget that, as empathically stated in Article 3 of the TEU, one of the main tasks of the EU is to promote ‘economic, social and territorial cohesion, and solidarity among Member States’.

This proposal is not a silver-bullet, but it is an important step towards solidarity based on legal mechanisms. As proclaimed in the Schuman declaration, the EU “will not be made all at once, or according to a single plan. It will be built through concrete achievements which first create a de facto solidarity.” The European Commission has now the opportunity, the unique ability, and the historical responsibility to fulfill its mission.

It has been a week already since I decided to self-isolate, in London. The worrying news keep coming, virtually by the minute, on all fronts. Knowing one is safe is barely a relief: it becomes inevitable to think about people suffering and people making sacrifices, to worry about loved ones, about there being no end in sight, about the world that will emerge once we get to leave our homes.

The routine that shaped our lives until a week or two ago feels like the memory of a past life (impressive what a few days of trepidation can do). Little by little, we get used to a new reality (and our mind stops racing or at least does not race so much). However, when we think about the stuff that inspired us and kept us going, we do so from a distance, reminding us we are no longer in the same place.

The advantage of seeing things from a distance is that one gets to see the big picture: the grand themes guiding our work, whether consciously or unconsciously. But the current crisis feels so overwhelming, it raises so many fundamental questions, that no other topic seems important enough at present.

The one issue that particularly resonates these days is the importance of experts and expertise. Irrespective of the context, we all lose when expertise gets instrumentalised to achieve other objectives and/or weaponised to serve special interests. It has been distressing to see, over the past few years, how the cacophony of polarisation makes it often impossible to listen to experts.

There are major challenges ahead (climate change dominating all others), and I can only hope that the ongoing tragedy makes it abundantly clear that not everything is a matter of opinion and that we do not get to choose what is true.

Public policy, always and everywhere, should be informed by facts and expertise, not by the pre-determined outcomes that we happen to favour.

For the time being, we wish all the best to all of you and your loved ones in these difficult times. We will be back very soon.

As you know, the hearing in the Google Shopping case took place last month – speaking of which: huge thanks to Lewis Crofts for his quasi-live tweeting of what was going on (all that follows is what I gathered from his reporting).

The question of the applicable legal test was always going to be central in Google Shopping. Lewis’s tweets confirm this view. A lot of time was spent, it seems, on whether the Commission should have established that non-discriminatory display on the Google platform was indispensable within the meaning of Bronner (and, I would presume, IMS Health, which provides the most precise definition of the concept in the case law).

When I read about these matters, I am always surprised about two aspects of the discussions. One is that they are dominated by Bronner. A second one is the fixation with categorising conduct as a ‘refusal’ (as if it were the relevant factor to determine whether indispensability is an element of the legal test). I explored some of the themes in a recent paper, and tell myself it could be useful to revisit them in a post.

Bronner is just one of many cases on indispensability: it is not even the most important or relevant

Let me start with the first point. Bronner is just one of many cases addressing the indispensability condition: it was not the first and it will not be the last. It is not the most important either.

In the context of Google Shopping, it is not even the most relevant precedent: I have repeated many times (on the blog, at conferences and elsewhere) that the case is pretty much a re-run of Commercial Solvents and CBEM-Telemarketing.

As much as Commercial Solvents and CBEM-Telemarketing, the case is about a company changing its commercial practices to favour an affiliate at the expense of rivals. Indispensability was an element of the legal test in the two precedents (the latter judgment made an explicit reference to an ‘indispensable’ service).

Against this background, the fundamental question one should be asking, in my view, is why indispensability would not be an element of the legal test in Google Shopping, given that the self-preferencing has the same object and effect as the conduct considered in Commercial Solvents and CBEM-Telemarketing.

In other words: is there a good reason to depart from the legal test set out in the two closest precedents? Intriguingly, Lewis’s tweets suggest that this is not how the discussion took place.

It does not matter whether there is a refusal: what matters is the nature of the remedy

I have been able to gather from reporting-via-Twitter that a great deal of the discussion revolved around whether there had been a refusal to deal. I get the impression that this was perceived to be a crucial matter. As far as I can tell, the underlying idea is that, absent a refusal of some kind, indispensability is not an element of the legal test.

There is nothing in the case law that suggests this conclusion.

This is so, first and foremost, because there are cases where indispensability was required (including the two mentioned above) and which did not concern a Bronner-style refusal. Second, the question of whether there is a refusal can easily turn into a semantic discussion. Was the behaviour in CBEM-Telemarketing a refusal to deal? Maybe, or maybe not, depending on what one calls a refusal. How about Slovak Telekom? Is that a refusal or a strategy aimed at degrading the conditions of access? Finally, there are cases that involve a refusal and where indispensability is not required (including Slovak Telekom itself).

The criterion to determine whether indispensability is an element of the legal test was defined in Van den Bergh Foods. This criterion distils the essence of previous cases. According to this ruling, indispensability is required when intervention would require a firm to ‘transfer an asset or enter into agreements with persons with whom it has not chosen to contract’.

It is easy to illustrate this criterion by reference to Bronner. In that case, the defendant could have brought the infringement to an end in two main ways: (i) by giving access to its delivery network (that is, enter into an agreement with a firm with which it has not chosen to contract) or (ii) by transferring its assets to a third party (that is, a structural divestiture). To be sure, it could also have (iii) closed down its delivery division.

Accordingly, indispensability was found to be an element of the legal test (and the condition was found not to be fulfilled).

Apply the Van den Bergh Foods criterion to any vertical leveraging case and you will realise that, when intervention in a case necessitates one the three options mentioned above (enter into agreements with third parties, sell the firm’s upstream or downstream assets or close down its upstream or downstream activities), indispensability is a condition to establish an abuse.

This criterion helps one understand why indispensability is an element of the legal test in Commercial Solvents (the firm was asked to enter into an agreement with a third party on terms and conditions determined by the authority), Magill and IMS Health (in the last two, intervention forced the firms to change their business model and start licensing their intellectual property to third parties).

Conversely, the criterion is helpful to understand why indispensability is not required in ‘margin squeeze’ cases or in other constructive refusal scenarios. A mere cease-and-desist order was enough to bring the infringement to an end in cases like TeliaSonera and Slovak Telekom.

Whether or not there is a ‘refusal’ (however this tenuous concept is defined) does not come across as a relevant or decisive factor.

How Van den Bergh Foods is interpreted in Google Shopping, and why it is controversial

Interestingly (and reasonably), the Commission concludes in Google Shopping that the question of indispensability should be considered in light of the Van den Bergh Foods criterion.

The application of the criterion is even more interesting (and also controversial). Since the decision merely requires the firm to bring the infringement to an end (without specifying how), the Commission claimed, indispensability is not an element of the legal test.

As explained in my paper, I am not sure this comes across as the most reasonable interpretation of the Van den Bergh Foods criterion. It makes sense I go briefly over the reasons why.

In essence, this interpretation would give the Commission the discretion to decide when indispensability is an element of the legal test. The authority would have the freedom to choose when it imposes this threshold upon itself.

To illustrate the Commission’s approach and its implications, just consider Bronner (where indispensability was both required and not met).

According to the interpretation of the Van den Bergh Foods criterion advanced in Google Shopping, the Commission would be able circumvent the indispensability condition merely by requiring the defendant to bring its infringement to an end.

In other words: if, in a case identical to Bronner (same facts, same economic and legal context) the Commission left it for the firm to figure out how to comply with the decision, indispensability would disappear as an element of the legal test.

Since competition policy is implemented through law, not discretion, I struggle with this interpretation of Van den Bergh Foods .

The relevant question, as I understand the underlying principles, is not so much what the decision formally requires but what it entails in substance. What options does the firm have to comply with the decision? Are these options the same as in Bronner? If so, the Van den Bergh Foods criterion means indispensability is an element of the legal test. If there are other options (namely a negative obligation administered on a one-off basis), it is not.

Those who have read my paper knew I have nothing to disclose. Those who have not (no hard feelings) now do. I look forward to your comments!

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UPDATE: A few among you have reached out to explain that, in the hearing, some importance was given to whether there had been a ‘request’ for access, as if this factor had an impact on the applicable legal test (and whether indispensability is part of it).

I fail to see how the existence of a ‘request’ is a relevant factor. Just take a look at the facts of CBEM-Telemarketing (para 5 of the judgment). As soon as CBEM learnt about a firm’s decision to cease dealing with third parties, it brought an action before a court (and note that, because there was no ‘request’, there was no ‘refusal’ either). Still, indispensability was deemed to be an element of the legal test (para 26).

Thanks again for all the comments!

The first instalment of this series discussed the issues of principle addressed by the Court in Generics. The judgment is equally important in what is says about pay-for-delay. It is possible to infer a fully-fledged framework for the assessment of these agreements. Crucially, this framework is wholly in line with the relevant precedents on  Article 101(1) TFEU (a question we have regularly discussed on the blog and elsewhere, for instance here).

The distinction between genuine and non-genuine intellectual property settlements

It was already possible to distinguish from the case law – in particular from BAT (Toltecs-Dorcet) – that the question of whether a settlement relates to a genuine intellectual property dispute is relevant and important in practice.

Where a supposed settlement does not relate to a genuine dispute (in the sense that the parties – or at least one of them – seek to achieve something they would not be able to achieve via the exercise of their intellectual property rights), the assessment can be relatively straightforward. Such agreements conceal a ‘naked’ market-sharing arrangement that is known to be restrictive by object.

Where the agreement relates to a genuine dispute (in the sense that the settlement replaces intellectual property litigation before the courts), on the other hand, the assessment may need to be more detailed. In this sense, Generics provide a valuable template, as I do not believe there were examples in the Court’s case law.

This difference between genuine and non-genuine disputes will be relevant for the upcoming cases on pay-for-delay. As I have written elsewhere, any moderately attentive reader of the Lundbeck decision cannot avoid the impression that the settlements in the case were a sham. You should not take my word for it: read the very representations made by the firm in the context of the proceedings and reproduced in the decision.

The status of pay-for-delay: an illustration of the Court’s default approach to ‘by object’ infringements

The Court’s approach to the assessment of restrictions by object has long been clear. An agreement amounts to a ‘by object’ infringement where it has no plausible purpose other than the restriction of competition. We also know since T-Mobile that an agreement is not caught by Article 101(1) TFEU – whether by object or effect – if it is incapable of having a restrictive impact (this is something that AG Kokott emphasised in her Opinion).

What is the added value of Generics, against this background? The judgment makes explicit some points that were implicit in the case law (it is the first time some expressions are used).

The relevant test is formulated in paras 89-90. An agreement amounts to a ‘by object’ infringement where the only ‘plausible’ explanation for it is the restriction of competition. It follows logically that such categorisation is excluded where the parties can advance an alternative explanation casting a ‘reasonable doubt’ (para 107) about the status of the practice as caught, by its very nature, by Article 101(1) TFEU.

The Court has consistently held since Cartes Bancaires that the ‘by object’ category must be interpreted restrictively. Thanks to Generics, we know what this statement means in concrete terms. It means that (leaving market integration aside) the category encompasses agreements the only plausible explanation for which is the restriction of competition.

We also know that the bar to rule out that an agreement amounts to a ‘by object’ infringement is low (‘plausibility’ and ‘reasonable doubts’ do not come across as particularly cumbersome).

Another crucial contribution of Generics relates to the legal status of a ‘reverse’ payment. In line with the case law, the Court clarifies that a payment from an originator to a generic producer does not mean, in and of itself, that the agreement is restrictive by object (paras 84-85).

As already held, the objective purpose of such payments must be considered in the relevant economic and legal context. The Court even identifies the instances in which a ‘reverse’ payment would be objectively justified and thus would fall outside the scope of Article 101(1) TFEU (para 85).

The assessment of potential competition and the role of circumstantial evidence

The assessment of potential competition in pay-for-delay cases is a fascinating puzzle. On the one hand, patents are presumed valid; on the other hand, there is not such thing as a presumption of infringement of a patent by a new entrant (such as a generic producers).

How is it possible to tell whether a generic producer has real, concrete possibilities to enter the market where there is genuine uncertainty about its ability to do so? Is it possible to rule on potential competition prior to a final court ruling on validity and/or infringement?

The Court answers in the affirmative to the latter question. Crucially, it does so without questioning the presumption of validity of intellectual property rights in EU law, and without revisiting the principle whereby EU law does not question the existence of such rights.

How? One crucial step is that ‘a patent which protects the manufacturing process of an active ingredient that is in the public domain’ is not deemed to constitute an ‘insurmountable barrier’. In this sense, the Court is careful to clarify that it is examining the status of potential competition in a very specific context (see para 51 for a description of that context).

A second crucial step in the analysis is the role given to circumstantial evidence. In a context of uncertainty, indicators such as the very fact that they conclude an agreement (para 55) or the very fact that there is a ‘reverse’ payment (para 56) can lead to the conclusion that the parties are, indeed, potential competitors.

According to the Court, the fact that the agreement relates to a genuine dispute does not rule out the finding that they are potential competitors.

What is the takeaway from the above? The key conclusion, in my view, is that potential competition exists whenever an authority can show that market entry is plausible. The threshold coincides with the threshold that applies when assessing whether the agreement restricts competition by object.

The eagle-eyed among you may remember that I wrote in my article on pay-for-delay that the threshold for potential competition is one of likelihood (that is, that market entry is ‘more likely than not’ to occur). The judgment clarifies that the bar is lower – plausibility of entry is enough.

If you ask me: what I wrote at the time made sense in my head (a potential competitor worthy of the name must exercise a constraint on existing players). Thinking about it, however, I believe it is more reasonable to align the threshold with the assessment of ‘by object’ conduct, as the Court does.

As a side note: if you were wondering whether there is a discrepancy between the judgment and my prior writings, it all boils down to this threshold.

On proof

If you read the above, you may get the impression that, after Generics, it is all about proof. Has the authority (or claimant) established, to the requisite legal standard, that the parties are competitors? Has the defendant managed to cast reasonable doubts about the characterisation of the agreement as restrictive by object?

I agree, which is why there will be a third part addressing issues of proof. Thanks in advance for your comments!

The venerable FIDE Congress will take place this year in The Hague on 20-23 May 2020 (speaking of which: you can still get the early bird rate until the end of the month here).

One of the three topics is ‘EU Competition Law and the Digital Economy‘. I am proud and grateful to have been invited to work on the report for Spain, which I have prepared with Marino García, a chief case handler at the Spanish Competition Authority (CNMC). A draft can be found here.

The UK Report was prepared by our friends Andriani Kalintiri (King’s College London) and Ryan Stones (City, University of London) and can be found here. And the general rapporteurs will be Nicolas Petit (European University Institute) and Pieter van Cleynenbreugel (University of Liege).

You may want to take a look at the Report that I prepared with Marino. It was fascinating to look systematically at all the digital economy cases examined by the CNMC. The impression one gets is that competition authorities have so far effectively addressed the challenges raised in these markets, and that usual remedies can be powerful.

I am tempted to draw your attention to two key cases. One is a merger case, Just Eat/La Nevera Roja, which deals with exclusivity and tipping in two-sided markets; and the second is an abuse case, Estudios de Mercado Industria Farmacéutica, which deals with access to data (and an old friend that goes by the name of IMS Health).

Marino and I would very much welcome your comments. We look forward to seeing many of you in The Hague!