Four lessons from the whole foods case: the antitrust analysis of mergers should be reconsidered.
Lambert, Thomas A.
One of the most maligned antitrust decisions in history involved a
merger of grocery store chains. Indeed, even those voices inclined
toward substantial antitrust intervention believe the U.S. Supreme Court
erred in its 1966 Von's Grocery decision, which condemned the
merger of the third- and sixth-largest grocery store chains in Los
Angeles. For example, the president of the reliably interventionist
American Antitrust Institute conceded that the Supreme Court
"probably went too far" and acknowledged that "if
Von's Grocery had remained the rule, all of our industries would be
highly fragmented and consumers would have lost out on many cost-cutting
efficiencies." The fact is, grocery retailing involves huge scale
economies and low barriers to entry--a combination that renders most
consolidations beneficial to consumers.
Despite the apparent consensus on Von's Grocery, federal
antitrust regulators seem determined to repeat its mistakes. Last
summer, the Federal Trade Commission shocked the business community by
seeking to block the merger of two high-end grocery chains, Whole Foods
Markets and Wild Oats Markets. Fortunately for consumers, cooler heads
prevailed--the federal court hearing the FTC's merger challenge
rejected the agency's motion for preliminary injunction. But while
things turned out all right this time, the incident reveals a number of
deficiencies in the merger review process. This article describes the
Whole Foods debacle and catalogues four lessons regulators and courts
should draw from the incident.
THE FTC'S CHALLENGE
In February 2007, Whole Foods and Wild Oats entered an agreement
under which Whole Foods would acquire Wild Oats for approximately $670
million. Four months later, after collecting 20 million documents from
the two companies (but almost no pricing data), the FTC sued to block
the merger. The agency claimed the merger would constitute an
anticompetitive combination of the top two competitors in the highly
concentrated market for "premium natural and organic
supermarkets."
According to the FTC's complaint, such supermarkets constitute
a separate market from conventional supermarkets because they
"offer a distinct set of products and services to a distinct group
of customers in a distinctive way." With respect to their product
offerings, premium natural and organic supermarkets are distinct in that
they "focus on perishable products, offering a vast selection of
very high-quality fresh fruits and vegetables--including exotic and
hard-to-find items--and other perishables." Customers of premium
natural and organic supermarkets are also distinct: in the FTC's
words, they're "affluent, well-educated, health-oriented,
quality food oriented people." Finally, the FTC asserted, premium
natural and organic supermarkets provide a distinctively higher level of
service: more amenities, a more knowledgeable staff, branding that
promotes a healthy lifestyle and ecological sustainability, and a place
for shoppers to "gather, interact, and learn." Because of
those distinguishing characteristics, the FTC maintained, premium
natural and organic supermarkets, of which Whole Foods and Wild Oats are
the only national chains, compete in a separate market from such
conventional supermarkets as Safeway and Kroger. A merger of the two
chains would virtually eliminate competition in that distinct market,
thereby harming consumers by causing higher prices or reduced levels of
service.
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
Of course, a narrow market definition was crucial to the FTC's
challenge. If the market in which Whole Foods and Wild Oats participate
includes conventional grocers like Kroger and Safeway (or maybe even the
nation's largest grocer, Wal-Mart, which now carries an extensive
collection of organic products), then consolidation of the two firms
would have little competitive effect; there would still be substantial
competition in the market after the consolidation of the two chains into
one. Thus, the FTC's challenge could go nowhere unless the market
were defined to exclude conventional supermarkets and other retailers of
food and groceries.
To support its narrow market definition--the lynchpin of its
case--the FTC initially relied almost entirely on Whole Foods' own
characterization of its market in its internal documents. For example,
the FTC's complaint pointed to a statement lifted from Whole
Foods' announcement of its fourth quarter 2006 earnings:
"Whole Foods Market is about much more than just selling
'commodity' natural and organic products. We are a lifestyle
retailer and have created a unique shopping environment built around
satisfying and delighting our customers." That statement and others
like it formed the primary basis for the FTC's allegation that
premium natural and organic supermarkets like Whole Foods and Wild Oats
constitute a distinct antitrust market.
WRONG QUESTION Not until it had filed its complaint and put a
temporary hold on the merger did the FTC try to build an economic case
for a distinct market consisting of premium natural and organic
supermarkets. To do so, the agency needed evidence concerning
cross-elasticities of demand--i.e., the degree to which consumers would
switch to other sources of supply in response to a price increase. Under
the FTC's own horizontal merger guidelines, the contours of a
market are determined entirely on the basis of such elasticities.
Specifically, a market is defined by lumping together the narrowest
possible grouping of products or services that could constitute the
market (say, a single brand of the product or service) and asking
whether a hypothetical single seller of those goods or services could
profitably impose a "small but significant non-transitory increase
in price"--usually a 1-5 percent price increase for a one-year
period. If the price increase would not be profitable because it would
induce too many consumers to switch to alternatives, then the collection
is expanded to include the next-best product or service, and the
question is repeated. This process continues until it reveals a grouping
of products or services for which a price increase would be profitable.
That grouping constitutes the relevant market. In the Whole Foods/Wild
Oats case, then, the key question would be whether a price increase by
so-called premium natural and organic supermarkets would drive so many
consumers to conventional supermarkets that the price increase would not
be profitable.
In light of this economic approach to defining markets--an approach
that turns entirely on how customers respond to price changes--it is
astounding that the agency collected no pricing data from Whole Foods
and Wild Oats until after it had filed its complaint. It chose instead
to base its market definition on statements from Whole Foods executives
touting the chain's distinctiveness. It also relied heavily on a
troubling e-mail that Whole Foods CEO John Mackey sent to the board of
directors to drum up support for the Wild Oats merger:
By buying [Wild Oats] we will ... avoid nasty price wars in
Portland (both Oregon and Maine), Boulder, Nashville,
and several other cities which will harm [Whole Foods']
gross margins and profitability. By buying [Wild
Oats] ... we eliminate forever the possibility of Kroger,
Super Value, or Safeway using their brand equity to
launch a competing natural organic food chain to rival
us.... [Wild Oats] may not be able to defeat us but they
can still hurt us.... [Wild Oats] is the only existing company
that has the brand and number of stores to be a
meaningful springboard for another player to get into
this space. Eliminating them means eliminating this
threat forever, or almost forever.
As it turns out, both Whole Foods' self-promoting market
characterizations (intended to tout its business model) and
Mackey's claims about how the merger would reduce price competition
(intended to persuade board members to support the merger) were wrong.
When the FTC finally got around to collecting and analyzing pricing
data, it could show neither that premium natural and organic
supermarkets constitute a market separate from conventional supermarkets
nor that a combined Whole Foods/Wild Oats would be able to avoid price
competition. Faced with the real world pricing data, the most the
agency's expert economist, University of Chicago professor Kevin
Murphy, could conclude on the market definition question was that (1)
Whole Foods and Wild Oats are close substitutes for one another, (2)
there is significant competition between the two supermarkets, and (3)
Whole Foods had a disciplining effect on Wild Oats' prices.
That was not enough. No one ever doubted the first two conclusions,
which are wholly irrelevant to the question of whether conventional
grocers and other food sellers also compete with Whole Foods and Wild
Oats. The third conclusion answers the wrong question: because the plan
called for the merged firm to close Wild Oats stores after the merger,
the relevant question would be whether Wild Oats stores (the ones to be
eliminated) had a disciplining effect on Whole Foods' pricing--not
vice-versa. Murphy conceded that the data could not establish either
that exit of a Wild Oats store led to higher prices at a neighboring Whole Foods or that entry of a Wild Oats store reduced prices at a
nearby Whole Foods. Nor could the data show anything about how the entry
or exit of conventional supermarkets affected Whole Foods' pricing.
(There are so many conventional supermarkets that it was impossible to
find a geographic region where either a first conventional supermarket
moved into a Whole Foods neighborhood or a last conventional supermarket
moved out of the neighborhood.)
On the question of whether conventional supermarkets would respond
to price increases at Whole Foods by expanding natural and organic
offerings and enhancing services, Murphy could say almost nothing of
substance. The fact is, conventional grocery store chains like Safeway
are moving in the direction of Whole Foods--Safeway opened 76 premium
"Lifestyle" stores between 2003 and 2007 and has converted
more that 700 existing stores to the Lifestyle format. Murphy's
response to this fact was to quote a statement from Mackey's first
quarter 2007 report to the Whole Foods board: "I don't believe
these [Lifestyle] stores have had much real impact on us, although
they've increased Safeway's comps a couple of hundred basis
points (not that much when you consider the immense amount of capital
invested)." Based on that statement and another like it, Murphy
concluded that "at least to date, conventional supermarkets have
not been successful at competing effectively in the relevant
market." But the question is not what has happened "to
date"; rather, it is what would happen if a combined Whole
Foods/Wild Oats raised prices. The fact that Safeway is running headlong in the direction of adopting a Whole Foods-like format suggests that it
could easily swoop into Whole Foods' space in response to a price
increase.
Murphy again focused on only the current state of affairs in
attempting to explain why the explosion of organic offerings at
conventional grocery stores--a trend he conceded--would not constrain pricing at a merged Whole Foods/Wild Oats. He explained that "if
conventional supermarkets offer a lot of organic items, they do not sell
enough with their current customer base, and many of the products spoil,
reducing margins" (emphasis added). But the key point is that if
the post-merger Whole Foods were to raise prices on organic products,
the customer base of conventional grocers would change to include more
consumers seeking organics. If that occurred, expansion of organic
offerings would become profitable for conventional grocers. The fact
that conventional supermarkets have not increased organic offerings with
their current customer bases is irrelevant to whether they are poised to
do so in response to a price increase.
SUBSTITUTION In the end, the arguments by Murphy--a brilliant
economist who made the strongest case he could, given the FTC's
untimely acquired pricing data--were stymied by key facts of which the
FTC would have been aware had it examined pricing data prior to filing
its complaint. As the district court explained, the available sales and
pricing data showed:
(1) Wild Oats prices are higher than Whole Foods prices where the
two companies compete, (2) Whole Foods prices are essentially the same
at all the stores in its region, regardless of whether there is a Wild
Oats store nearby, and (3) when Whole Foods does enter a new market
where Wild Oats operates, Whole Foods takes most of its business from
other retailers, not from Wild Oats.
Taken together, those three facts undermine the FTC's
insistence that Wild Oats uniquely constrains Whole Foods so that a
merger of the two companies would injure consumers. The first fact
suggests that Whole Foods' effect on Wild Oats results from the
former's lower pricing, which is likely occasioned by the superior
efficiency resulting from Whole Foods' larger scale (which, of
course, would increase with the merger). The second fact indicates that
Whole Foods' effect on Wild Oats' pricing proves nothing about
the degree to which Wild Oats' presence constrains Whole
Foods' pricing. Given that the merger contemplates the closure of
Wild Oats stores, not Whole Foods stores, that is the relevant
constraining effect. The third fact suggests that consumers view Whole
Foods as a competitive alternative to conventional grocery store chains,
from which it usurps business.
Moreover, the FTC's position ignored the fact that most
customers of premium natural and organic supermarkets also shop
regularly at conventional grocery stores. Given widespread
cross-shopping, it would be nearly impossible for a combined Whole
Foods/Wild Oats to raise prices on any item that was available at
conventional grocery stores; customers would simply forgo purchasing
that item on their Whole Foods trip and would instead purchase it on
their trip to the conventional grocery store. As conventional grocery
stores have beefed up their offerings of natural and organic products--a
trend the FTC concedes--this cross-shopping has eliminated the
opportunity for hiking prices on most individual items. Thus, to use
economic jargon, it would be exceedingly easy for consumers and
conventional grocery stores to respond to supracompetitive pricing by
engaging in, respectively, demand and supply substitution.
Given the realities of the supermarket industry--realities of which
the FTC would have been aware had it done its homework before filing its
complaint--the district court concluded that Whole Foods and Wild Oats
are not insulated from significant competition from conventional grocery
store chains. Instead, they compete with conventional supermarkets and
conventional supermarkets compete with them. When those other
supermarkets are considered part of the relevant market, it becomes
clear that the merger of two relatively small players in the much larger
overall market would not give the combined firm the power to raise price
and/or cut back on services, to the detriment of consumers. The district
court therefore properly denied the FTC's motion for preliminary
injunction.
LESSONS FROM THE FTC'S CHALLENGE
While things worked out correctly this time around, one might deem
the Whole Foods affair a near miss. Had the district court judge
deciding the case been less economically sophisticated and more
sensitive to "tough talk" in internal documents, this case
could have come out differently. After all, the agency did uncover some
inflammatory documents and managed to get one of the nation's
foremost economists to testify on its behalf. A less able or more
distracted judge might not have recognized the weakness of the
FTC's claims.
It is thus worth asking what general lessons concerning merger
review should be taken from the FTC's failed attempt. Four come to
mind:
LESSON ONE: "Hot documents" defining the market,
demonstrating apparent motivation, or predicting effects should be
irrelevant.
As noted, the FTC did not collect detailed pricing information from
Whole Foods and Wild Oats until after it had filed its complaint seeking
to enjoin the merger. The initial basis for the agency's position
thus could not have been economic data showing that Wild Oats provides a
unique constraint on Whole Foods. Instead, the agency chose to rely on
internal Whole Foods documents suggesting that Whole Foods and Wild Oats
compete in a distinct market and that competition would be reduced by
the merger.
For example, in concluding that premium natural and organic
supermarkets constitute a distinct market, the FTC initially did not
look at the degree to which consumers would alter consumption patterns
in response to higher prices. Instead, it relied on such documentary
evidence as:
* Mackey's statement that Whole Foods has "create[d] a
customer loyalty that will not be stolen away by conventional markets
who sell the same products,"
* Whole Foods' assertion in its 2006 Annual Report that
"[w]e believe our heavy emphasis on perishable products
differentiates us from conventional supermarkets and helps us attract a
broader customer base,"
* Mackey's claim that "Whole Foods['] core customers
will not abandon them because Safeway has made their stores a bit nicer
and is selling some organic foods,"
* An earnings announcement proclaiming that "Whole Foods
Market is about much more than just selling 'commodity'
natural and organic products. We are a lifestyle retailer and have
created a unique shopping environment built around satisfying and
delighting our customers," and
* Documents in which Mackey claimed that "people who think
organic foods are the key don't understand [Whole Foods']
business model" and that "organic food is only part of [Whole
Foods'] highly successful business model."
Besides relying on internal documents to define the relevant
market, the FTC also pointed to such documents as establishing the
merger's anticompetitive purpose and effect. Indeed, the third
sentence of the complaint alleges: "Whole Foods' Chief
Executive Officer John Mackey bluntly advised his board of directors of
the purpose of this acquisition" and then proceeds to quote
Mackey's aforementioned e-mail about "avoid[ing] nasty price
wars" and "eliminat[ing] forever the possibility of Kroger,
Super Value, or Safeway using their brand equity to launch a competing
natural organic food chain to rival us."
In the end, though, the FTC's document-based inferences about
market definition and competitive effect were undermined by real-world
pricing data. That should not be surprising. Business people routinely
make puffing claims about the uniqueness of the product or service they
are selling, and it would be naive to infer from such self-serving
claims that the products or services at issue really are so unique that
the seller could raise prices above competitive levels without causing
buyers to substitute toward alternatives. Whole Foods' claim to be
a "lifestyle retailer" offering "a unique shopping
environment" says next to nothing about whether shoppers would
really refrain from substituting to, say, a Safeway Lifestyle Market in
response to a price increase. Similarly, aggressive "fighting
words" in internal communications generally say little about the
real purpose of planned conduct--much less the likely effect of such
conduct. For example, the inflammatory "avoid nasty price
wars" language quoted at the beginning of the FTC's complaint
appeared in a last-minute e-mail that was designed to drum up board
support for the Wild Oats merger. One could not infer the true purpose
of the merger from this out-of-context snippet and, even if one could,
it is effect--not purpose--that really matters. Divining likely effect
requires a hard look at economic data rather than consideration of
statements lifted out of context.
Geoff Manne and Marc Williamson have persuasively criticized the
use of "hot docs" in antitrust enforcement. They observe that
accounting documents, market definition documents, and documents
containing "fighting words" frequently give rise to
economically inaccurate inferences and are highly prejudicial, but they
are nonetheless routinely used in antitrust enforcement and
adjudication. Under modern discovery rules, such documents are readily
available to regulators and litigants, causing a "the light's
better over here" problem (i.e., the difficulty confronting the
drunkard who searches for his lost keys under the streetlamp, not
because that is where he left them, but because "the light's
better over here").
With respect to market definition documents, the Supreme Court
exacerbated this problem by stating in the Brown Shoe case that
submarkets could be defined, in part, according to such "practical
indicia" as "industry or public recognition of the []market as
a separate economic entity, the product's peculiar characteristics
and uses, unique production facilities, distinct customers, distinct
prices, sensitivity to price changes, and specialized vendors."
This unfortunate statement invited litigants and regulators to scour business documents for market characterizations that suit their end.
Unfortunately, those characterizations are frequently inaccurate, and
reliance on business documents rather than econometric evidence often
leads to mistakes. As Manne and Williamson put it:
Business people will often characterize information
from a business perspective, and these characterizations
may seem to have economic implications.
However, business actors are subject to numerous
forces that influence the rhetoric they use and the
conclusions they draw. These factors include salesmanship;
self-promotion; the need to take credit for
successes and deny responsibility for failures; the need
to develop consensus; and the desire to win support
for an initiative or to neutralize its opponents....
Simply put, the words and procedures used by business
people do not necessarily reflect "economic realities,"
and the effort to integrate them further into
antitrust analysis is misdirected.
LESSON TWO: Unique distribution channels should not be deemed
"markets" unless they significantly reduce transaction costs.
In the Whole Foods case, the FTC never claimed that the relevant
market was natural and organic grocery products. Because such goods are
widely available from a multitude of sellers, defining the market as
such would have doomed the FTC's challenge out of the gate.
Instead, the agency asserted that the relevant market consisted of
premium natural and organic supermarkets.
Defining the market to consist of narrow channels of distribution,
notwithstanding the fact that the same merchandise sold through those
channels is readily available in parallel distribution markets, is a
tack the agency has taken before--most notably in FTC v. Staples, Inc.,
in which the agency successfully blocked the merger of retailers Staples
and Office Depot on grounds that it would impair competition in the
market for "the sale of consumable office supplies through office
superstores." In the Whole Foods case, though, the approach was
improper. Antitrust regulators should define markets to consist of
distribution channels only when such channels significantly economize on
transaction costs.
Like the unfortunate reliance on "hot documents" in
merger analysis, the characterization of unique distribution channels as
antitrust markets can be traced to Brown Shoe's discussion of
submarkets. In that case, the Supreme Court stated that
"well-defined submarkets may exist which, in themselves, constitute
product markets for antitrust purposes." It then posited the
aforementioned "practical indicia" (industry or public
recognition, peculiar characteristics, distinct customers, specialized
vendors, etc.) for determining whether such a submarket exists. Latching
onto this discussion, lower courts and regulators have largely relied on
casual observations and "hunches" to determine whether
distribution channels are unique enough to constitute distinct markets
for antitrust purposes. That is unfortunate, for economic theory offers
a less arbitrary, more structured means of accurately determining when
unique distribution channels should be deemed antitrust markets.
A proper analysis would begin by asking what is being provided by
the participants in a putative market consisting of distribution
channels. The answer, of course, is the service of conveying goods from
one link in the distribution chain to another. (Technically, then, the
market in the Whole Foods case could not have been premium natural and
organic supermarkets themselves, which were not for sale to customers,
but premium natural and organic supermarket services.) In the case of
distinctive retailers like premium natural and organic supermarkets, the
primary service is the aggregation of various products and services that
are generally available elsewhere. The proper question, then, is whether
the sellers of a particular aggregation service could significantly
raise the price of their service (by raising the price of the goods
being aggregated) without losing so many customers that the price
increase would not be profitable.
Customers of a distribution channel seek to minimize the total cost
of obtaining the products purchased from that channel. To do so, they
compare the sum of product prices plus transaction costs involved in
utilizing competing distribution channels or combinations of channels.
Where the aggregation service provided by one distribution channel
substantially reduces transaction costs for consumers (by, for example,
facilitating one-stop shopping), a single operator of that type of
channel might be able to raise prices without losing so many customers
that the price increase would not be profitable. In such case, the
distribution channel could constitute a unique market, despite the fact
that the products being distributed are widely available through
parallel distribution channels. But if the distribution channel does not
result in significant transaction cost economies and the products at
issue are available through other channels, the channel itself should
not be deemed a separate market. The key question, then, is whether the
use of a seemingly unique distribution channel for otherwise widely
available products occasions substantial transaction cost savings for
consumers.
With respect to premium natural and organic supermarkets, the
answer to that question is almost certainly no. Because premium natural
and organic supermarkets do not stock many popular grocery items (Diet
Coke and Cheerios come to mind), many of their customers also shop
regularly at conventional grocery stores. This suggests that, for many
customers, the transaction cost savings offered by premium natural and
organic supermarkets are not that great; the customers must shop at two
stores to procure the groceries they desire. Accordingly, if all premium
natural and organic supermarkets were to raise the effective price of
their aggregation service by raising the prices of the products they
sell--most of which are available at stores many of their customers
already visit--those cross-shopping customers would just start buying
the price-enhanced products at other stores. Doing so would not
significantly increase the transaction costs associated with
cross-shopping customers' grocery shopping. In short, the fact that
premium natural and organic supermarkets do not facilitate one-stop
shopping for many consumers, and thus do not offer significant
transaction cost savings to those consumers, prevents such
stores--admittedly a distinctive distribution channel--from being a
separate market for antitrust purposes. The Whole Foods case thus
illustrates the need for courts and regulators to adhere to an
economically informed theory of when unique distribution channels for
otherwise widely available products may constitute a relevant market.
LESSON THREE: Merger analysis should better account for business
trends and productive efficiencies.
In deciding whether to challenge a proposed merger of competitors,
the FTC and the Department of Justice follow guidelines the agencies
jointly issued in 1992 and amended in 1997. Under those guidelines, the
reviewing agency begins by defining the market in which the merging
competitors participate. The agency then measures the degree of
concentration in that market and the degree to which the merger would
enhance market concentration. Based on those measurements, the agency
determines the level of scrutiny to be applied. Mergers are subjected to
greater scrutiny if they occur in markets that are already concentrated
and occasion larger increases in market concentration.
After defining the market, assessing concentrations, and
determining the level of scrutiny to be applied, the reviewing agency
considers four additional matters to determine whether the merger will
hurt consumers. It examines qualitative factors about the market at
issue to determine whether the merger could facilitate collusion by the
remaining firms in the market or could permit the merged firm to raise
price or reduce quality unilaterally. The agency analyzes whether a
price increase or quality reduction would likely result in timely entry
by competitors, so that the merged firm could not harm consumers by
raising price or reducing quality. It asks whether the merger will
occasion such large productive efficiencies (by, for example, enabling
the merged firm to achieve economies of scale) that consumers are likely
to be benefited despite an increase in market power. And it considers
whether one or both of the merging parties would fail if the merger were
not accomplished.
While the merger guidelines represent a tremendous improvement on
standardless "black box" merger review, the guidelines--at
least as implemented--are deficient in at least two respects. First,
they result in an overly static analysis that fails to account for
trends in consumption and production. Market definition is determined
primarily on the basis of how consumers would respond to price
increases, and that is determined by looking at how consumers have acted
in the past. Such an approach cannot take account of changing trends in
consumer behavior. Thus, in examining (and deciding to challenge) the
proposed merger of Blockbuster Video and Hollywood Video, the FTC did
not adequately account for the fact that video consumers are moving away
from big box rental stores and toward Internet-based options such as
Netflix or direct downloading of video content. A snapshot based on what
consumers have done in the past may present a misleading portrayal of
how they will react to future price increases.
By the same token, trends in supplier conduct are important but
often ignored. In theory, the merger guidelines contemplate that the
reviewing agency will take account of supplier trends, for they call for
the agency to include within the relevant market "uncommitted
entrants" that would likely enter the market in response to a price
increase. As the Whole Foods case shows, though, the agencies often fail
to account for the fact that businesses are already moving into the
market space occupied by the merging companies. Indeed, the June 6,
2007, front page of the very Wall Street Journal issue announcing the
FTC's opposition to the Whole Foods/Wild Oats merger also reported
that a number of conventional grocery chains are transforming their
stores to provide a more Whole Foods-like experience:
After years of decline brought on by fighting Wal-Mart
Stores Inc. on price, the nation's grocery chains are on
the mend. The supermarkets are winning back shoppers
by sharpening their differences with Wal-Mart's
price-obsessed supercenters, stressing less-hectic stores
with exotic or difficult-to-match products and greater
convenience.... Subdued lighting and high-end selections
buttress the nonsupercenter experience. Instead of
the rows of aisles with commonplace brands, the supermarkets
are adding tables providing ingredients for
planned meals, luring the kind of customer who shops
for dinner instead of stocking up on groceries once a
week.... Safeway Inc. has converted about half of its
1,755 stores into "Lifestyle" markets with wood floors,
on-site bakeries and high-end private-label brands. The
third largest food retailer after Wal-Mart and Kroger, it
expects to convert all its stores by 2009.
While the merger guidelines recognize that "[m]arket
concentration and market share data of necessity are based on historical
evidence" and assure that "the [reviewing] Agency will
consider reasonably predictable effects of recent or ongoing changes in
market conditions in interpreting market concentration and market share
data," the Whole Foods case shows that actual practice falls short
of this ideal. The agencies should recommit themselves to a less static
analysis.
In addition, the agencies should take greater account of the
productive efficiencies a merger will occasion. While the merger
guidelines contemplate consideration of productive efficiencies (albeit
fairly late in the analysis), the Whole Foods case suggests they play a
minor role. The FTC never mentioned productive efficiencies (or the lack
thereof) in its complaint and they played no role whatsoever in its
expert's analysis. The FTC commissioned Murphy to answer six
questions, none of which involved consideration of productive
efficiencies the merger might occasion. That is odd, for grocery
retailing is an industry involving substantial economies of scale,
implying that a larger merged firm will tend to have lower per-unit
costs than the smaller firms of which it is comprised. Indeed, the
800-pound gorilla of grocery retailing is Wal-Mart, whose vast size
enables it to capture scale economies and thereby underprice its rivals.
(Wal-Mart's entry into the conventional grocery market was followed
by a slew of bankruptcies--26 this decade--by smaller, regional grocery
store chains that could not capture such efficiencies and thus could not
compete with Wal-Mart on price.) Without doubt, a merged Whole
Foods/Wild Oats will have lower per-unit costs than either company
premerger, and much of the cost-savings will likely be passed on to
consumers. The fact that Whole Foods, the larger of the two premium
natural and organic supermarket chains, charged lower prices than Wild
Oats illustrates how scale in this industry can lower costs and prices.
The FTC's public documents, though, never even acknowledged
economies of scale.
LESSON FOUR: The deck should not be stacked so heavily in favor of
the FTC.
Section 13(b) of the Federal Trade Commission Act authorizes the
FTC to seek a preliminary injunction against a merger that may violate
the antitrust laws. The section then provides that the court should
issue the requested preliminary injunction if the Commission makes
"a proper showing that, weighing the equities and considering the
Commission's likelihood of ultimate success, such action would be
in the public interest." This language has been interpreted to mean
that the FTC should get its preliminary injunction if it shows that it
"likely" could prove that the merger would violate the
antitrust laws--in other words, that it has at least a 50 percent chance
of ultimately proving that the merger would violate the antitrust laws.
This lax standard becomes troubling when one considers what the FTC
must prove in order to establish that the merger would in fact violate
the antitrust laws. The relevant legal provision here is Section 7 of
the Clayton Act, which forbids any merger that "may"
substantially lessen competition. As the Brown Shoe Court noted,
"Congress used the words 'may be substantially to lessen
competition' (emphasis supplied), to indicate that its concern was
with probabilities, not certainties." Courts interpreting Section 7
have held that a merger violates the law if there is a "reasonable
probability" that it would substantially lessen competition. Thus,
any merger posing a 50 percent chance of substantially lessening
competition violates the substantive antitrust laws.
Taken together, Section 13(b) of the FTC Act and Section 7 of the
Clayton Act set a remarkably low threshold for obtaining a preliminary
injunction: The FTC must establish only a 50 percent likelihood that
there is a 50 percent chance that the merger would substantially lessen
competition. This effectively means that a preliminary injunction may be
granted if the FTC can show facts establishing a 25 percent likelihood
that the challenged merger will substantially reduce competition.
Of course, one might argue that this low proof threshold is
acceptable for a preliminary injunction, which bars the merger only
until the court can determine whether the merger would actually violate
Section 7 (i.e., until the FTC actually proves that the merger would
pose at least a 50 percent likelihood of substantially lessening
competition). But given the tenuous nature of merger agreements, the
granting of a preliminary injunction effectively kills the deal. As
David Balto, former policy director of the FTC's Bureau of
Competition, recently observed:
The reality is that no firm has ever continued to litigate a merger
against the FTC after losing the preliminary injunction motion. The
costs and difficulty of keeping a merger agreement together are
simply too great. As Justice Fortas observed, in FTC v. Dean Foods,
"'Preliminary' here usually means final."
Notably, because of some statutory quirks, mergers challenged by
the Justice Department, the other federal agency charged with evaluating
whether proposed mergers violate the antitrust laws, cannot be
effectively thwarted on so slight a showing. The bipartisan Antitrust
Modernization Commission recently observed that differences between the
two agencies' pre-merger reviews "can undermine the
public's confidence that the antitrust agencies are reviewing
mergers efficiently and fairly." The commission recommended that
the FTC consolidate its requests for preliminary and permanent
injunctive relief, a move that would effectively eliminate the overly
low standard for officially "preliminary"--but in effect
permanent--injunctions. The Whole Foods case demonstrates the wisdom of
raising the standard of proof for injunctive relief.
A SILVER LINING?
Although Whole Foods and Wild Oats have already consummated their
merger, the FTC has taken the highly unusual step of appealing the
district court's denial of its motion for preliminary injunction.
That may actually be a good thing--not because the district court's
substantive analysis was wrong (it was not), but because an appeal could
have a salutary effect on future merger analyses.
Very few merger challenges are appealed. When regulators lose, they
generally do not appeal because mergers usually close shortly after the
district court rules, and most consummated mergers are quite difficult
to undo. When the parties to a merger agreement lose, they usually give
up because they know they probably cannot hold the merger agreement
together for the duration of an appeal. The result has been a dearth of
Supreme Court merger decisions; the last significant one was United
States v. General Dynamics Corp., decided in 1974. With the Whole Foods
case, the FTC concluded that the combined company's decision to
operate Wild Oats stores separately for some period of time would avoid
the need to engage in a messy disentangling of the merged company should
the agency prevail on appeal. Thus, the FTC has appealed.
There is a good chance the current Supreme Court will agree to hear
an appeal if the case proceeds that far. Unlike the Rehnquist Court it
succeeded, the Roberts Court has shown significant interest in antitrust
matters. Indeed, in the last two terms, the Court decided seven
antitrust cases, compared to an average of less than one per year in the
15 years prior to the 2003-2004 term.
If the Court is presented with an appeal of a merger decision, it
might well take the opportunity to correct some of the unfortunate
vestiges of Brown Shoe. That decision appears to bear at least some
responsibility for two of the errors the FTC committed in the Whole
Foods case. Both the unwarranted reliance on "hot documents"
and the improper focus on the unique appearance of particular
distribution channels (rather than the degree, if any, to which those
channels reduce transaction costs and thereby provide a unique service)
might have been supported by Brown Shoe's invitation to determine
market boundaries according to non-economic "practical
indicia." A Supreme Court merger decision emphasizing that markets
should be defined entirely on the basis of economic factors would
provide much-needed clarification and would prevent much future
mischief. In addition, a Supreme Court merger decision could emphasize
the importance of considering productive efficiencies in determining
whether a merger should be challenged. While the 1997 amendments to the
merger guidelines moved in the right direction by expressly calling for
consideration of such efficiencies, the guidelines do not consider them
until rather late in the analysis and, as the Whole Foods case would
suggest, they are sometimes ignored altogether. The Supreme Court could
remind regulators that such efficiencies should play a key role in the
analysis of proposed mergers. And, while statutory amendment is likely
required to correct the unduly low standard of proof required for
FTC-initiated preliminary injunctions, a Supreme Court decision
highlighting the lax standard (and the discrepancy between the FTC and
Department of Justice standards) could spur Congress to adopt the
Antitrust Modernization Commission's suggestion that the FTC
preliminary injunction standards be brought into line with those
applicable to the Department of Justice.
So there may be a silver lining to the FTC's intervention in
the Whole Foods/Wild Oats merger. Hopefully, the Whole Foods case will
afford the federal court of appeals--or perhaps even the Supreme
Court--an opportunity to clean up merger doctrine so that the lessons of
the Whole Foods case get incorporated into merger doctrine.
Readings
* "Hot Docs vs. Cold Economics: The Use and Misuse of Business
Documents in Antitrust Enforcement and Adjudication," by Geoffrey
A. Manne and E. Marcellus Willamson. Arizona Law Review, Vol. 47 (2005).
* "Rationalizing Antitrust Cluster Markets," by Ian
Ayres. Yale Law Journal, Vol. 95 (1985).
BY THOMAS A. LAMBERT
University of Missouri-Columbia School of Law
Thomas A. Lambert is associate dean for faculty research and
development and associate professor in the School of Law at the
University of Missouri-Columbia.