The Chronicle 2 Volume 15/4
PA
TEN T SETTLEMEN TS A N D PA YMEN TS THA T FLOW THE “WRON G” WA Y:
THE EA
RL Y HISTORY OF A BA D IDEA
By Kevin D. McDonald*
- controversial. Why, then, was it necessary for the Supreme
Court to take such a case and make such a pronouncement? Because of a series of trenchantly silly decisions, including some by the Supreme Court, that had plainly stated the
- pposite — that a wholly owned subsidiary could conspire
with its parent. There was no rationale for this view, economic or otherwise; the Court had simply observed — several times — that common ownership would not “liberate” affiliated corporations from the Sherman Act because the “statute is aimed at substance rather than form.”2 The Copperweld Court simply held up a mirror to this tautology, declaring that “it is the intra-enterprise conspiracy doctrine itself that ‘makes but an artificial distinction’ at the expense of substance.”3 An even better example can be found in the Supreme Court’s Brunswick decision,4 which famously gave birth to the concept of antitrust injury. Most antitrust lawyers can recite the crux of Brunswick from memory: the plaintiff bowling alley was claiming injury from an allegedly illegal merger because, without the merger, some other bowling alleys would have gone out of business, and the plaintiff would not have had to compete with them. Wait a minute, said the Court, this “injury” flows from your having to compete more, not less. It is not, therefore, an “antitrust” injury, because it is not tied to the aspect of the merger that rendered it illegal; it’s tied to an aspect of the merger that preserved competition. If that reduced the plaintiff’s profits, so be it.5 Easy enough. But why did the Brunswick Court assume that the merger that had rescued these nearly bankrupt lanes was illegal? Because a jury had so found, based on a concept of § 7 liability equally as offensive as the plaintiff’s proffered injury: the now defunct “deep pockets” theory. That theory held that a merger that did not otherwise reduce competition could still be illegal if it permitted the entry into a market of a competitor that was too, um, BIG — at least too big to play nice. Justice Marshall spent a good deal of space describing this theory in wide-eyed terms, leading one to suspect that the Court was a bit skeptical: The [Circuit] court found that . . . petitioner was a “giant” whose entry into a “market of
TABLE OF CONTENTS
- I. INTRODUCTION ......................................................................... 2
- A. Nostalgia for Nostrums ......................................................... 2
- B. The Moral Structure of Payment Flow .................................. 3
- II. BACKGROUND ........................................................................... 5
- A. Hatch-Waxman ..................................................................... 5
- B. Cardizem and Hytrin ............................................................. 5
- C. Setting the Scenario .............................................................. 6
III. FOUR FALLACIES AND SOME QUESTIONS ........................... 7
- A. Proposition One:
“Ordinarily, Consideration Flows the Other Way.” Q: Compared to What? ...................................................... 7
- B. Proposition Two:
“The Patentee Pays the Infringer!” Q: What Infringer? ............................................................ 8
- C. Proposition Three:
“A Payment Flowing [the Wrong Way] May Suggest Strongly the Anticompetitive Intent
- f the Parties in Entering the Agreement.”
Q: Intent to Do What? ....................................................... 9
- D. Proposition Four:
“A Payment Flowing [the Wrong Way] May Suggest Strongly . . . the Rent Preserving Effect of That Agreement.” Q: Is That a Good Thing or a Bad Thing? ........................ 11 IV. CONCLUSION ....................................................................... 12
I. INTRODUCTION
- A. Nostalgia for Nostrums
The history of antitrust is replete with once stylish ideas and theories of liability that are now regarded as just, well,
- dumb. Some of the Supreme Court’s most famous antitrust
decisions stand for propositions so basic and (to us) sensible that we might wonder how they could have been in dispute — until we remember the theories they were rejecting. Take Copperweld, for example.1 It held that a corporation and its wholly owned subsidiary — that is, its 100% wholly
- wned subsidiary — are part of a single entity and, hence,