Author: Molly Donovan
We recently released episode 2 of our “If I Were You” podcast. You can listen to this episode about minimum advertised prices here. Featuring Bona Law partner Steve Cernak. Or read our blog version now:
This Episode Is About: Minimum Advertised Pricing (MAP) Programs
Authors: Steven Cernak and Luis Blanquez
Section 8 of the Clayton Act prohibits certain interlocking directorates between competing corporations. But while the prohibition has been around since 1914, most antitrust lawyers pay little attention to it, partly because companies can quickly resolve any issues voluntarily. Recent comments by the new AAG Jonathan Kanter, however, hint that litigation might play a larger role in future Section 8 issues.
The prohibitions of Section 8, in its most recent form, can be simply stated: No person can simultaneously serve as an officer or director of competing corporations, subject to certain jurisdictional thresholds and de minimis exceptions. Truly understanding the prohibition, however, requires understanding all those italicized terms.
First, Section 8’s prohibition applies only if each corporation has “capital, surplus, and undivided profits,” or net worth, of $10M or more, as adjusted. The FTC is responsible for annually adjusting that threshold for inflation and usually announces the change early in the calendar year along with changes to the Hart-Scott-Rodino thresholds. Currently, the threshold is just over $41M.
Section 8 provides an exception where the competitive sales of either or each of the corporations is de minimis. Specifically, no interlocks are prohibited if the competitive sales of 1) either corporation are less than $1M, as adjusted (currently about $4.1M); 2) either corporation are less than 2% of that corporation’s total sales; or 3) each corporation are less than 4% of that corporation’s total sales.
Originally, Section 8 applied only to directors of corporations; however, the 1990 amendments extended the coverage to officers, defined as those elected or chosen by the corporation’s Board. Despite the clear wording of the statute limiting it to officers and directors, courts have considered the possibility that Section 8 might apply when a corporation’s non-officer employee was to be appointed a director of a competitor corporation.
The language of Section 8 clearly applies to interlocks between competing corporations. An interlock between a corporation and a competing LLC would not be covered by the statutory language or the legislative history of the original statute or amendment. The FTC and DOJ have not explicitly weighed in on application to non-corporations, although the FTC’s implementing regulations for Hart-Scott-Rodino cover LLC explicitly as “non-corporate interests” different from corporations. Still, the spirit of Section 8 would seem to cover any such non-corporate interlock. Also, any corporate director who also serves a similar role for a competing LLC would face an increased risk of violating Sherman Act Section 1.
Section 8 clearly applies if the same natural person sits on the boards of the competing corporations. It might also apply if the same legal entity has the right to appoint a natural person to both Boards, even if that entity appoints two different natural persons to the two Boards. That interpretation is consistent with the Clayton Act’s broad definition of “person” and has been supported by both the FTC and DOJ and the one lower court to consider the question.
As with other parts of the antitrust laws, the question of competition between the two corporations requires some analysis. The few courts to look at the question have found that corporations that could be found to violate Sherman Act Section 1 through an agreement would be considered competitors. On the other hand, these same courts did not define competitors more narrowly to be those corporations that would not be allowed to merge under the more extensive analysis of Clayton Act Section 7.
On April 4, 2022, at the ABA Antitrust Spring Meeting, Jonathan Kanter, the assistant attorney general in charge of the Antitrust Division at the DOJ, made during his speech some significant remarks about Section 8. First, he highlighted the fact that the Division is committed to litigating cases using the whole legislative toolbox that Congress has given them to promote competition, including Section 8 of the Clayton Act. Second, he reminded everyone that Section 8 helps prevent collusion before it can occur by imposing a bright-line rule against interlocking directorates. Third, that for too long, Section 8 enforcement has essentially been limited to their merger review process. And last but not least, that the Division will start ramping up efforts to identify violations across the broader economy and will not hesitate to bring Section 8 cases to break up interlocking directorates. The former head from the FTC made a similar statement back in 2019, indicating how Section 8 of the Clayton Act protects against potential information sharing and coordination by prohibiting an individual from serving as an officer or director of two competing companies.
Author: Luke Hasskamp
Hello, friends. Let’s talk about some of the latest developments in the world of professional golf, at least from an antitrust perspective.
Last spring I wrote about the PGA Tour’s response to a potential competitor golf league. The new league promised to shake up professional golf, guaranteeing massive payouts to attract some of the top players in the game and offering unique competitions and tournament formats different from the standard PGA Tour event.
As with many upstart competitors, the new league generated a great deal of controversy. By far, the most controversial aspect is the league’s association with Saudi Arabia. Indeed, the league is mostly funded by the Saudi Arabia government not a golf hotbed. Saudi Arabia’s investments have been criticized as “sportswashing,”—“the practice of investing or hosting sporting events in a bid to obscure the Kingdom’s poor human rights record, and tout itself as a new leading global venue for tourism and events.”
This upstart league has gone through a few iterations and, with it, a few different names. Last spring it was referred to the Premier Golf League, and it has also been called the Super Golf League. The current moniker appears to be LIV Golf. (We’re excited to see what name they come up with next!)
Reports suggested that individual players were being offered substantial sums of money, upwards of nine-figure deals, simply to join the LIV league—including a reported $125 million offered to Dustin Johnson, the most prominent player to announce his intention to play in the LIV league. To put that in perspective, Tiger Woods is the all-time career money leader with $120 million (and only one other player has ever won more than $75 million all time (Phil Mickelson, $92 million).
My last article speculated on whether other actors would join the PGA Tour’s efforts to squelch the upstart league. Well, at least one partner said it would enforce the PGA Tour’s ban. The PGA of America (a separate entity from the PGA Tour) announced that anyone banned from the PGA Tour would also be barred from competing in the PGA Championship (one of golf’s four majors), as well as the biennial Ryder Cup. “If someone wants to play on a Ryder Cup for the U.S., they’re going to need to be a member of the PGA of America, and they get that membership through being a member of the Tour,” PGA of America CEO Seth Waugh said last May.
Waugh added that “the Europeans feel the same way,” suggesting the European tour would also enforce the PGA Tour’s ban at its events. And, indeed, the European tour (the DP World Tour) later issued a “warning memo” to its members against participating in LIV events. And, just recently, the United States Golf Association—the organization that hosts the U.S. Open, one of golf’s four majors—announced that “although the USGA ‘prides themselves on the openness of their tournament,’ they will also make their own decision about the eligibility of players at the upcoming U.S. Open . . . on a case-by-case basis.” This appears to be another not so subtle attempt at dissuading golfers from jumping to the Saudi league.
Along those lines, Phil Mickelson was not a participant at this year’s Masters tournament. Mickelson, as a past champion, has a standing invitation to play in the Masters, part of the tournament’s storied tradition. There was speculation that Masters officials instructed Mickelson not to attend the tournament due to the controversy. But Masters officials denied the report, stating that Mickelson decided not to participate in this year’s event. (Mickelson has not commented publicly on the specifics.) Mickelson also did not participate in this year’s PGA Championship, another major and one where Mickelson was the defending champion.
Sponsors also appear to be siding with the PGA Tour (or, perhaps, simply do not wish to align themselves with LIV and its Saudi connections). RBC announced that it was dropping its sponsorship deals with Dustin Johnson and Graeme McDowell after both golfers were linked to the Saudi league. Similarly, UPS dropped its deals with Lee Westwood and Louis Oosthuizen.
This all comes on the heels of the latest development: the LIV league’s first event is coming to fruition. It is scheduled for June 9-11 in London, at the same time as the PGA Tour’s RBC Canadian Open event. Because these are conflicting events, PGA Tour members needed to obtain express permission from the PGA Tour to participate. But the Tour rejected all requests for an exemption (as did the European tour). But several dozen players announced that they were in the field for the LIV event, a surprising number for an league that seemed on more than one occasion as if it would never get off the ground. (Interestingly, Phil Mickelson has not announced whether he will participate, and he was not listed as one of the 48 participants, although six spots were unannounced so it’s possible he’ll still be in the field.)
Author: Molly Donovan
Amelia is 9. She makes friendship bracelets that are quite good because she uses high-sheen thread sourced directly from Brazil. Amelia sells the bracelets at school, from anywhere between $5 and $10, depending on how much thread and labor is required to make a particular bracelet.
One day Amelia gets an email from her thread manufacturer stating: “Amelia, Bad news. The cost of embroidery thread has skyrocketed in Brazil—increases of 20% across all manufacturers. Do you want to continue with your regular procurement schedule?”
Amelia has no choice—the Brazilian floss is what makes her friendship bracelets so premium. “Yes,” she replies, “continue with the usual schedule.”
Naturally, due to her rising material costs, Amelia increases the price of her finished bracelets by 20%. Although not happy, the school friends buy them anyway because the bracelets are trending.
One day Amelia learns online that the Brazilian thread manufacturers had raised their prices illegally—in collusion with each other as part of a global thread cartel. As a result, each of the manufacturers is being prosecuted by the DOJ (save the amnesty applicant).
Wait. How could that be when all of the troublesome activity took place in Brazil? Who do the U.S. antitrust enforcers think they are? Well, little did the thread manufacturers know, there is a U.S. statute called the Foreign Trade Antitrust Improvements Act (FTAIA) under which activities taking place beyond U.S. borders *might* be within reach of U.S. antitrust laws.
[“They should have called me,” says the antitrust lawyer, “I would have told them that.”]
Amelia is incensed. She wonders whether the FTAIA gives her a cause of action even though she’s a U.S. purchaser and the relevant cartel activity took place in Brazil. She’s super savvy. She calls her antitrust lawyer.
Here’s what the lawyer said:
The FTAIA says that there are two main ways in which foreign conduct becomes subject to private claims in the U.S.: there’s import commerce or direct effects. The language of the statute itself is super confusing—even to grown-up lawyers—so, here’s a relatively simple way to break it down:
But say that the thread makers first sold the thread to distributors in Brazil and it was the distributors who imported the thread to the United States with no involvement from the manufacturers. That may “count” against the manufacturers as import commerce even though the manufacturers imported nothing to the United States themselves. Depending on the jurisdiction, some U.S. courts say that so long as conspirators targeted a U.S. import market, you have import commerce for purposes of the FTAIA. As a practical matter, targeting could simply mean that the conspirators discussed the fact that thread gets distributed worldwide, including in the United States, so potentially, this is a rather loose test.
Some courts have adopted an even looser standard—even if the U.S. effect is not immediate, so long as the product enters the U.S. reasonably close in time and steps to the initial sale of the price-fixed product, it’s direct.
For Amelia, there are no steps between the foreign fix and her U.S. purchase, so she’s good here.
While it’s not an issue for Amelia, it would be an issue for Amelia’s school friends who did not buy the thread itself, but did buy the finished bracelets. Since thread is the major material component and makes up the entire cost of a bracelet, excluding labor and overhead, it’s safe to say that the U.S. effect on the price of the thread could be “substantial” to a bracelet buyer, particularly if lots of thread came into the United States.
Bottom line: the FTAIA is not a serious hurdle for Amelia’s claim against the Brazilian thread makers—she can sue all of them on a theory of joint and several liability for trebled damages.
Morals of the Story:
Author: Steven J. Cernak
Two months ago, I encouraged all readers of this blog to read Complexity-Minded Antitrust by Nicolas Petit and Thibault Schrepel. As I explained in that article, I think their suggestion that antitrust lawyers and policymakers should consider applying learnings from complexity theory to antitrust questions was a good one.
I hope you heeded my suggestion. Over 1300 others have at least downloaded the article. After reading the article, I wanted to get smarter about complexity as well. I had dipped my toe in the complexity water during my graduate economics studies and early legal career but that was decades ago during complexity’s infancy. How had it developed and how might it apply to antitrust issues?
To get back up to speed, I read several books on the topics. Below, I outline my thoughts on each of them. I encourage other antitrust experts to read these or other materials to stay abreast of where our field might be (should be?) heading. If you have other suggested readings, please let me know.
First, take a look at Neil Chilson’s Getting Out of Control, his short and easily readable book on emergent order that I reviewed for this blog last October. As I described in that review, Chilson uses everyday examples to define emergent order and distinguish it from randomness and designed order. He then builds on those definitions to discuss an example of emergent order near and dear to all antitrusters, the price system. From there, he derives principles for anyone (like antitrust enforcers?) dealing with emergent order to observe: expect complicated results even from simple actions; push decisions down to actors with local information; and be humble. Short, sweet, and by an author with FTC experience, this book is the one to read if you only read one.
Second, I re-watched Understanding Complexity by Scott Page, one of The Great Courses that I had purchased several years ago. I thought this course was a great summary of complexity, how it relates to many disciplines, and how its concepts can apply in many everyday settings. Page defines the attributes of complex systems—diversity, connection, interdependence, adaptation—and distinguishes such systems from others that are really just complicated. From these tools, he derives now familiar concepts like tipping and path dependence and explains why truly complex systems can be harnessed, perhaps, but not controlled. I recommend this course for an easy-to-understand but more complete and formal view of complexity.
(Disclosure: Scott Page lived a few doors down from me in my University of Michigan dormitory. In a hallway full of smart young men with great enthusiasm for Michigan athletics, Page was one of the smartest and most enthusiastic.)
I was disappointed in Complexity: A Guided Tour by Melanie Mitchell. While I was looking for a general description of complexity and its roots, this book went farther afield than I wanted or could appreciate. It covers many disparate subjects—genetics, evolution, biology—and has some interesting history of the science and some of its pioneers; however, Mitchell spends more time talking about that history and justifications for why complexity might be its own separate discipline than I found interesting. I can only recommend it for those interested in math history.
On the other hand, Complexity and the Art of Public Policy by David Colander and Roland Kupers covered just the right amount of complexity background, history, and context before applying it to various public policies. Antitrust gets a brief mention with a very short summary of the U.S. Microsoft case. More generally, the authors try to use complexity theory to begin the development of a third way of thinking about public policy choices, what they call laissez faire activism, as compared to defaulting to having either the market or the federal government do everything. Here are some of the key points that I think make this book, right after Chilson’s, one that antitrust folks should read:
Finally, I can recommend Difference: How the Power of Diversity Creates Better Groups, Firms, Schools, and Societies by, again, Scott Page, only if you really want to go deep in the weeds on complexity or are managing a group. I had another, more personal, reason for wanting to read it.
Author: Molly Donovan
If I Were You is a new Bona Law podcast that gives in-house lawyers the essential 5 bullets they need to explain real-world antitrust and competition risks to their business teams. This podcast is a quick 10 minutes or less, easily digestible during a commute or errand, and we hope it becomes a practical resource for in-house lawyers.
I’ll be the regular host of the podcast, which was inspired by one of my favorite in-house friends who said, “A good way to talk to the business side is to say something like, ‘I’m not saying don’t do it, but if I were you, I would do x, y, and z to mitigate the risk.’” And—tah dah—this podcast was born.
Author: Molly Donovan
Every spring, the Trooper Girls sell cookies in their town. Although they’re all members of the same group, the girls compete against each other to be the top cookie seller of the season. The girls hold regular meetings with rules set by the troop leader based on an antitrust course she took in law school:
[“I like these rules,” thinks the antitrust lawyer. The membership criteria are clear and can be fairly and objectively applied, and the meeting discussions seem appropriately restricted to legitimate subjects]
At the first meeting of cookie-selling season, the Trooper Girls were in distress. Practically no cookies had been sold because, unforeseeably, the Ranger Boys had started selling ice cream—a treat much more popular than cookies of late given the unseasonably warm weather.
The de facto ringleader of Trooper Girls—Tina—announced at the meeting, “We all know cookie sales aren’t going well and we all know why. We need to get on the same page, and reconsider cookie prices until the weather returns to normal and this crisis is over.”
The troop leader interrupted, “Tina, I think that’s enough on that. Let’s change the subject.”
[“Uh oh,” thinks the antitrust lawyer. Tina’s comments sound like an invitation to collude. I’m glad the troop leader spoke up, but the damage may be done.]
Tina winked at her Trooper Girl friends and they all basically knew what to do. Meanwhile, the specifics were worked out in whispers during social time after the meeting, and during one-on-one phone calls and text exchanges. Of course, nobody said exactly what price to charge and nobody wrote down any sort of formal agreement—the rules clearly don’t allow that. Instead, the discussions were more along the lines of “let’s think about a 10%-20% discount,” which can’t constitute an “agreement,” right? Specific prices weren’t even discussed.
[“Wrong,” says the antitrust lawyer. “Agreements” don’t have to be explicit at all. A wink and a nod could suffice. Similarly, specific prices need not be discussed—agreements about the general direction of pricing could raise antitrust scrutiny.]
The next day, each member of Trooper Girls cut their cookie prices, all in the 10-20% range, though some a little bit more and some a little bit less.
Suddenly, the weather cooled again and cookie sales took off. The Ranger Boys went out of business completely, unable to compete with the reduced price of the Trooper Girl treats.
Immediately thereafter, the Trooper Girls communicated to one another—in various ways—that it was no longer necessary to keep prices low, each member could do as she pleased, though continued cooperation to return to normal prices was appropriate.
And that’s what happened.
[“Oh no, again.” This could be deemed another anticompetitive agreement, now with indefinite and potentially long-running effects.]
Rick, a member of the Ranger Boys was very sad. For one thing, he was left with a freezer full of ice cream—couldn’t give the stuff away. For another, he had nothing to do on weekends with the Ranger Boys now essentially defunct.
Wisely, Rick did two things. He called an antitrust lawyer, suspicious that something unfair had occurred. And he petitioned the Trooper Girls to join their group.
Although the girls initially refused the application, the antitrust lawyer changed Rick’s life (as antitrust lawyers do) by threatening to sue the Trooper Girls and their individual members for violating the Sherman Act, including by refusing Rick’s application for anticompetitive reasons contrary to the membership criteria.
The Trooper Girls relented—paid Rick not to sue and admitted him in the group. Rick used the settlement money to start his own business making ice cream sandwiches. He used the ice cream leftover in his freezer and Trooper Girl cookies for the sandwich ends (genius!). In the process, Rick sold a lot of ice cream and a lot of cookies—everyone was happy.
THE MORALS OF THE STORY:
*For the Trooper Girl Types and Their Associations: In addition to having clear membership criteria, have a written antitrust compliance policy and train all members to issue spot.
Author: Molly Donovan
Crises that disrupt distribution chains and cause supply shortages tend to prompt discussions among competitors about how to survive. Discussions may begin as relatively innocuous information exchanges but become risky when they turn to coping strategies. This topic can sometimes lead to conversations amongst competitors such as, “We’re all in the same boat, so joint efforts ought to be made to stabilize prices,” or “We, as an industry, should stay on the same page and base future price increases on the rising costs of material costs and/or distribution downstream.” As we know from history (earthquakes, tsunamic, floods), those sorts of discussions are real and prompt DOJ investigations. As difficult as it has been for some businesses, the COVID-19 pandemic will not be a defense to cartel conduct.
So now that at least some aspects of business have returned to normal, it’s an excellent time for in-house counsel to survey the relevant business units to assess whether any potentially anticompetitive conduct occurred over the last couple of years. Counsel can do this inquiry with minimal cost and minimal disruption to business: a few key interviews, a high-level but strategic sweep of emails, and a big picture look at pricing and production figures. Top leadership can deliver messages that make it clear that whistleblowers will be protected (consistent with federal law). Companies can set up a message box so employees can self-report anonymously.
Authors: Steve Cernak and Luis Blanquez
Like all new administrations, the Biden Administration entered office promising change in antitrust policy. Unlike previous administrations, however, the change this Administration promised was nothing less than the total transformation of antitrust enforcement.
In its first year, the Administration has begun that transformation by overhauling enforcement personnel, starting to make policy changes, and promising much more. But will it last? The potential overthrow of the antitrust status quo faces opposition from entrenched interests and skepticism from a judiciary trained in it. It will take time to make the new ideas stick—will the new antitrust leaders have that luxury?
Author: Molly Donovan
Antitrust for Kids is a new blog series designed to explain complex principles of U.S. competition law to practitioners and business people in plain English. Meant to be fun, and tongue-in-cheek, the series will serve as a useful primer to help the audience issue spot and better understand antitrust concepts like price discrimination, vertical restraints, tying, tacit agreements, and more.
Max and Margie are next-door neighbors on Lemon Lane. They both operate competing lemonade stands in their front yards all summer. And, both shop at the same grocery stores to purchase the same three ingredients necessary for making their finished drinks: fresh lemons, sugar, ice.
While they’ve been frenemies for years, casually exchanging pleasantries at times, this summer the weather is very hot, and so is competition in the local lemonade market. In fact, Max and Margie barely acknowledge each another, unless it’s to bad mouth the other—each complaining that the other makes inferior lemonade.
One day, Margie announces a breakthrough that she’s made in the lemonade space: STRAWBERRY LEMONADE. It’s a hit. Margie begins charging 2 times over cost for her strawberry drink, and the demand for plain old lemonade (sans strawberries) stops cold.
Max is incensed, naturally, and hatches a scheme to bring Margie down.
Max heads to the largest grocery store in town. There, he tells George (the grocer) that unless George stops selling lemons, sugar and ice to Margie, Max—and more importantly, Max’s dad—will pull all their business from George immediately. EEEK! That would be a real problem for George because Max’s dad buys nearly all his ingredients to operate the town’s most popular restaurant from George, which is a serious portion of George’s business.
George feels he has no choice. He agrees with Max to stop selling lemons, sugar and ice to Margie.
[“Oh no,” thinks the antitrust lawyer, “that’s a vertical agreement, i.e., an agreement between a purchaser and a supplier, to restrain competition for the purchase of lemonade ingredients.”]
“But,” says George, “I don’t want to see all of my business with Margie go to the other grocers in town. Hear what I’m saying?” “Good idea,” thinks Max.
Max promptly visits the two other grocers in town, telling them that they’d better not sell lemonade ingredients to Margie, or else Max will boycott and so will his dad, both of whom provide a steady stream of business to these grocers as well (whenever George faces supply issues). Max takes care to add: George already agreed, so all of you grocers need to get on the same page.”
Not sure what else to do, these two additional grocers respectively agree to Max’s proposal. While the idea seems contrary to their individual interests, they can see Max means business and independently decide it’s easiest to comply.
Max circles back with George, telling him that all the grocers in town are on board. George nods.
[“Oh no,” thinks the antitrust lawyer, “now there’s a potential horizontal agreement, i.e., an agreement among competitors in the same level on the supply chain—in this case, the 3 grocers. Such an agreement could be implied even though the grocers never actually spoke to one another.”]
As a result of Max’s scheming, Margie can’t buy the ingredients she needs, and goes out of business. Max never can figure out how to add strawberries to his classic recipe for straight lemonade, so the town is left without strawberry lemonade indefinitely.
Margie’s very upset until she meets an antitrust lawyer to whom she tells her story. The antitrust lawyer explains to Margie that she’s the victim of a hub-and-spoke conspiracy—with Max at the hub, 3 separate vertical agreements between Max and each of the grocers (the spokes), and the 3 grocers all implicitly agreeing with one another, forming a horizontal agreement to boycott Margie on the “rim.” While courts may analyze the arrangement differently depending on the jurisdiction, it’s certainly an antitrust concern anywhere.
With her lawyer’s help, Margie files an antitrust claim, wins trebled damages, and lives happily ever after selling her strawberry lemonade, now world famous.
Max becomes a white-collar lawyer specializing in the defense of executives who allegedly violate the criminal antitrust laws. He’s still single.
THE MORALS OF THE STORY:
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