Microsuits
Dan Morales, the attorney
general of Texas, was the first state attorney general to begin investigating
Microsoft 18 months ago. In November he filed suit to void clauses in
Microsoft's contracts with computer manufacturers that he said were preventing
them from assisting his probe. Though this case was dismissed, Morales
persevered, joining with 20 other state attorneys general in preparing a
wide-ranging antitrust suit against
Slate
's parent company.
But last
week, at the very last moment, Morales dropped out of the suit. Why? First, he
received a letter from the heads of several Texas-based companies, including
Compaq and CompUSA, urging him not to bring a case that would harm an industry
employing more than 300,000 Texans. Then, Michael Dell, founder of the
Austin-based computer company that is both a Microsoft ally and one of Texas'
largest employers, came by to see him. Just after that meeting, Morales
announced he wouldn't sue, explaining in a prepared statement that "several
officials of Texas' computer industry have expressed concerns that the filing
of a lawsuit against Microsoft may negatively impact their companies as well as
the consumers of the state."
The antitrust case against Microsoft may or may not have
merit. And it may or may not make sense for 50 states to run their own
antitrust policies alongside or in opposition to the national one. But Morales'
decision is pretty shocking in any event. If Texas' chief legal officer is
going to take it upon himself to decide whether Microsoft should be prosecuted,
that decision should be based on whether he believes the company has violated
the law. Instead, Morales openly interpreted his duty as promoting his state's
commercial interests. Morales said, in effect, I don't care whether Microsoft
is breaking the law. The issue is whether Microsoft is good for business in
Texas.
Of course,
Morales was merely explicit where other AGs prefer to be coy. Tiny Utah, home
to Novell, a Microsoft rival, is a vigorous participant in the states' suit.
Tiny South Dakota, home to Microsoft ally Gateway, is not. California, where
Microsoft antagonists Netscape, Oracle, and Sun live, has signed on. Washington
state, where Microsoft lives, has declined. Washington state Attorney General
Christine Gregoire determined that there was "no need" to duplicate the federal
effort.
In the curiously booming business of multistate
lawsuits, economic factors often interfere with lofty considerations of the
law. When Michael Moore, the attorney general of Mississippi, sued to recover
Medicaid costs from the tobacco industry in 1994--a case that led to the $368.5
billion tobacco settlement now up for debate in Congress--41 other states
eventually joined in. Among the few that did not were the biggest producers of
tobacco: North Carolina, Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Georgia.
You'd
have to be pretty naive to expect political considerations to play no part in
the deliberations of any public prosecutor, even in criminal cases. But
multistate actions, as these sign-up-sheet lawsuits are called, are almost
pure politics. They generally reflect the ambitions of state elected
officials rather that the claims of sound public policy.
If General Electric is selling an unsafe toaster, we have a
Consumer Product Safety Commission with jurisdiction to investigate, regulate,
and litigate. The CPSC must decide whether that toaster should be sold to
consumers anywhere in America. Does it make sense for each state to be deciding
that question all over again--either agreeing, in which case the effort is
redundant, or disagreeing, in which case the result is a toaster that is legal
in Ohio but illegal in Kentucky? It's like every state having its own foreign
policy--which happens to be another futility-generating trend. Multistate suits
add another layer of absurdity: the states reinventing the wheel of federalism
by attempting to act in unison.
The flurry
of multistate lawsuits is the result of an odd alliance between liberal legal
activism and conservative devolutionary zeal. In the 1970s, the consumer
movement fired up state attorneys general to begin going after corporate
malefactors. One of the first multistate actions was a suit filed by six
attorneys general against oil companies for price fixing in 1973. Another was
filed against General Motors in 1977 for falsely claiming that some of its cars
contained rocket engines. Such suits increased with the falloff in consumer
protection and antitrust enforcement during the Reagan years. The regulatory
agencies in Washington have grown more aggressive since Bill Clinton arrived in
1993. But somehow, more federal activism has only spurred the litigious
exuberance of the 50 AGs. Various states have recently gone after deceptive
advertising in car leasing, sneaker price fixing, and telemarketing scams. At
the moment, they are shadowing the Justice Department in an antitrust
investigation of Visa and MasterCard.
Perhaps the biggest factor in the multistate
litigation boom is Moore. As Peter Pringle recounts in Cornered , a new
book about anti-tobacco litigation, Moore turned himself into a household name
with his suit against Big Tobacco. As the suit progressed, Moore was featured
in Vanity Fair and on every TV news program known to humankind. The
National Law Journal named him lawyer of the year in 1997. Moore
incurred some suspicion and jealousy from his colleagues. He also became their
role model. Hubert H. "Skip" Humphrey III, the attorney general of Minnesota,
filed his own suit against the tobacco companies. It was settled last week for
$6.1 billion. Humphrey used the occasion to attack Moore's settlement as a
"sweetheart deal."
Now all
AGs want to be the next Michael Moore. There are folks willing to help. As one
Washington PR person explains, these cases are often marketed to the state
attorneys general by corporate and public-interest lobbyists. First they go to
the most eager beavers: Skip Humphrey or Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut.
Second tier, but nearly as promising, are Morales of Texas, Scott Harshbarger
of Massachusetts, and Dennis Vacco of New York. Another good source of lawsuits
is the National Association of Attorneys General (known informally as the
National Association of Aspiring Governors). NAAG meets four times a year so
its various committees can hash out ideas for litigation, like the billing
fraud case now being developed against the hospital chains.
In the case of Microsoft, Blumenthal of Connecticut appears
to have won the coveted prize, managing to eclipse Iowa Attorney General Tom
Miller, who is chairman of the NAAG's antitrust committee, and New York's
Vacco, who heads the consumer committee. Blumenthal's face has been everywhere
in the last week, and he is clearly enjoying his moment in the limelight,
building valuable name recognition for the day when he decides whether to run
for governor or senator. Others may pause to wonder why Connecticut--and 19
other states--needs an antitrust policy separate from that of the United
States. The question whether regulation of commerce is a state or national
affair was supposed to have been settled in 1789.
