Monopoly & Monopolistic Comp
Many people say that Microsoft has a near monopoly in the operating system market, but argue that consumers are better off than if there were many competing operating systems. Why might they make such a claim?
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1. Suppose a firm is operating in a competitive market and is maximizing profit by producing at the point where marginal revenue equals marginal cost. Now suppose that consumer wealth decreases in this market (and the good is a normal good). What might you expect to happen to the profit-maximizing output quantity for the firm?
2. In what ways are profit-maximizing and loss-minimizing the same? In what ways are they different?
3. Suppose that De Beers and the local water utility are both monopolists, in the markets for diamond jewelry and water, respectively. If both monopolies decided to raise prices 15 percent, which monopoly would be more likely to see its total revenue decrease? Why?
4. Until the 1980s, AT&T held a monopoly over the national market for phone services. Suppose that AT&T argued that it was a natural monopoly, because the fixed cost of creating a nationwide phone network generated huge economies of scale, and that there was therefore no welfare loss associated with its monopoly. Counter this argument by explaining how even a natural monopoly causes deadweight loss.
5. Explain why an oligopolist (with few competitors) pays more attention to what its competitors are doing than a producer in a competitive market (with many competitors) does.
6. Given that the market for smartphones is inefficient, explain why consumers of smartphones might not want the price to be regulated.
Hello, could I get some assistance summarizing this article for a discussion:
Read the articles and discuss the problems of Economic Inequality in the U.S.economy, summarize key points and post in the Discussions area:
Competition police crossing continents
Competition authorities are increasingly reaching beyond their country's borders
Feb 22nd, 2014
WHEN TWO AMERICAN presidents, Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft, embarked on a trustbusting mission a century ago, they were taking government into a new policy area: competition. Industrialization was still relatively new, and any monopolies that had emerged, such as the British and Dutch East India companies, had been created by governments.
The robber-baron companies of the late 19th century were accused of using their industrial muscle to drive competitors out of business. Private monopolies, the argument ran, diminished the benefits of capitalism; by definition, the existence of a monopoly made it impossible for a free market to operate.
Since then, governments have generally had some kind of competition policy, though not necessarily a coherent one. Politicians have tried to juggle several different priorities, among them putting the government in control of "strategic" industries (a category that has always included defense but often also a range of other industries, from airlines to car manufacturing, power generation, and telecoms); shielding domestic businesses from foreign ownership or competition, and protecting consumers from price-gouging.
In the past two decades, a new concern has emerged: that monopolies may be restricting innovation. The technology industry seems to have been particularly prone to creating near-monopolies, from Microsoft in software to Amazon in retailing and Google in an internet search. This is due to network effects. Consumers gravitate to the dominant technology, either because it offers more products or because many of their friends are already using the network concerned. These monopolists, it is feared, will be slow to introduce new technologies that might cannibalize their existing business; and they will be so entrenched that new competitors will find it hard to get a foothold.
Microsoft bundled its Internet Explorer browser with its dominant Windows operating software on personal computers. America's Department of Justice saw this as an attempt to force Netscape, a rival browser, out of the market. In a long court case that began in 1998, Microsoft was initially ordered to break itself in two. This ruling was overturned on appeal and a less onerous settlement was arrived at.
At the time many commentators felt that the authorities had overreached themselves. Internet Explorer was provided free of charge, so it was hard to see how consumers were being harmed. But this is a tricky area. On the one hand, rapid technological change can cause once-dominant companies to lose their position very quickly if they do not adapt; look at Nokia's and BlackBerry's mobile-phone businesses. Some argue that if the market is capable of such adjustment, governments should not get involved. The fact that some consumers make the wrong decision some of the time is not the basis for intervention, as long as all consumers are not being ripped off, says Simon Bishop of RBB Economics, a consultancy. On the other hand, such rapid change makes it hard to tell whether monopoly positions are being exploited, or whether a more competitive market would have produced more innovations.
Competition authorities have also had to rethink their role in cross-border deals. If one multinational takes over another, that might not create a monopoly in the country where the two groups have their headquarters, but it could do so in another country. A proposal for a merger between General Electric and Honeywell, announced in October 2000, was cleared by America's Department of Justice but blocked by the European Commission the following year. That objection appeared to herald a new era of transatlantic takeover disputes; in fact, it remains the only deal so far to have been cleared in America but blocked on the other side of the Atlantic.
However, there have been other instances of transatlantic disputes. In 2009 the European Commission imposed a 1.06 billion ($1.4 billion) fine on Intel, a chipmaker, after a complaint brought by an American rival, AMD. The ruling seemed to suggest that multinationals faced the prospect of double jeopardy because of inconsistent international rules.
We do it our way
There are some philosophical differences between Europe and America. Europe has a long tradition of state ownership of industry; even after privatization, many such companies retain dominant positions, at least in their national markets. In America, by contrast, market leaders have got there the hard way, by having superior technology or being more efficient. In Europe competition policy tends to be rules-based, with the European Commission issuing guidance for future mergers to follow; in America merger decisions tend to be hammered out in the courts, establishing legal precedent.
But multinationals also have to deal with competition policy in emerging markets. China is a particular challenge. The Chinese use competition policy to achieve other ends to keep out foreign firms or attack existing foreign businesses says, one expert. Latin American countries have tended to adopt the American model of competition policy, whereas eastern Europe has followed the example. Merger authorities from different countries have set up the International Competition Network to share the experience. Such efforts may reduce the double-jeopardy problems in international mergers, if only because rules may be applied more consistently.
In the longer term, the question is whether national competition policies will prove adaptable enough to cope with a globalized economy. It may make economic sense for global companies to exploit economies of scale and bring down prices for consumers, but national governments may be reluctant to accept the loss of control involved. In air travel, for example, fares have been reduced under pressure from low-cost airlines, but these newcomers are still being held back by policies that favor flagship carriers. If regulators in rich countries were to prove more zealous than their counterparts in emerging markets in restricting the size of multinationals, Western firms might be put at a competitive disadvantage.
New concerns for competition authorities are emerging all the time. Chris Walters, the acting chief economist of Britain's Office of Fair Trading (OFT), cites the practice of pay-for-delay, whereby a firm that holds a drug patent pays a generic manufacturer not to launch a rival drug to preserve the patent-holders monopoly profits. And David Currie, the chairman of the Competition and Markets Authority (which will take over from the OFT in April), recently pointed to a vast new potential problem, which he described as the growing collection, processing, and use of consumer-transaction data for commercial ends. This is proving an increasingly important source of competitive advantage; we need to be alert to the possibility that it will be an increasing source of consumer detriment.
What valuable company is nobody building? This question is harder than it looks, because your company could create a lot of value without becoming very valuable itself. Creating value isn't enough -- you also need to capture some of the value you create. This means that even very big businesses can be bad businesses. For example, U.S. airline companies serve millions of passengers and create hundreds of billions of dollars of value each year. But in 2012, when the average airfare each way was $178, the airlines made only 37 cents per passenger trip. Compare them to Google, which creates less value but captures far more. Google brought in $50 billion in 2012 (versus $160 billion for the airlines), but it kept 21% of those revenues as profits -- more than 100 times the airline industry's profit margin that year. Google makes so much money that it is now worth three times more than every U.S. airline combined. The airlines compete with each other, but Google stands alone. Economists use two simplified models to explain the difference: perfect competition and monopoly. "Perfect competition" is considered both the ideal and the default state in Economics 101. So-called perfectly competitive markets achieve equilibrium when producer supply meets consumer demand. Every firm in a competitive market is undifferentiated and sells the same homogeneous products. Since no firm has any market power, they must all sell at whatever price the market determines. If there is money to be made, new firms will enter the market, increase supply, drive prices down and thereby eliminate the profits that attracted them in the first place. If too many firms enter the market, they'll suffer losses, some will fold, and prices will rise back to sustainable levels. Under perfect competition, in the long run no company makes an economic profit. The opposite of perfect competition is monopoly. Whereas a competitive firm must sell at the market price, a monopoly owns its market, so it can set its own prices. Since it has no competition, it produces at the quantity and price combination that maximizes its profits. To an economist, every monopoly looks the same, whether it deviously eliminates rivals, secures a license from the state or innovates its way to the top. I'm not interested in illegal bullies or government favorites: By "monopoly," I mean the kind of company that is so good at what it does that no other firm can offer a close substitute. Google is a good example of a company that went from 0 to 1: It hasn't competed in search since the early 2000s, when it definitively distanced itself from Microsoft and Yahoo! Americans mythologize competition and credit it with saving us from socialist bread lines. Actually, capitalism and competition are opposites. Capitalism is premised on the accumulation of capital, but under perfect competition, all profits get competed away. The lesson for entrepreneurs is clear: If you want to create and capture lasting value, don't build an undifferentiated commodity business. How much of the world is actually monopolistic? How much is truly competitive? It is hard to say because our common conversation about these matters is so confused. To the outside observer, all businesses can seem reasonably alike, so it is easy to perceive only small differences between them. But the reality is much more binary than that. There is an enormous difference between perfect competition and monopoly, and most businesses are much closer to one extreme than we commonly realize. The confusion comes from a universal bias for describing market conditions in self-serving ways: Both monopolists and competitors are incentivized to bend the truth. Monopolists lie to protect themselves. They know that bragging about their great monopoly invites being audited, scrutinized and attacked. Since they very much want their monopoly profits to continue unmolested, they tend to do whatever they can to conceal their monopoly -- usually by exaggerating the power of their (nonexistent) competition. Think about how Google talks about its business. It certainly doesn't claim to be a monopoly. But is it one? Well, it depends: a monopoly in what? Let's say that Google is primarily a search engine. As of May 2014, it owns about 68% of the search market. (Its closest competitors, Microsoft and Yahoo!, have about 19% and 10%, respectively.) If that doesn't seem dominant enough, consider the fact that the word "google" is now an official entry in the Oxford English Dictionary -- as a verb. Don't hold your breath waiting for that to happen to Bing. But suppose we say that Google is primarily an advertising company. That changes things. The U.S. search-engine advertising market is $17 billion annually. Online advertising is $37 billion annually. The entire U.S. advertising market is $150 billion. And global advertising is a $495 billion market. So even if Google completely monopolized U.S. search-engine advertising, it would own just 3.4% of the global advertising market. From this angle, Google looks like a small player in a competitive world. What if we frame Google as a multifaceted technology company instead? This seems reasonable enough; in addition to its search engine, Google makes dozens of other software products, not to mention robotic cars, Android phones and wearable computers. But 95% of Google's revenue comes from search advertising; its other products generated just $2.35 billion in 2012 and its consumer-tech products a mere fraction of that. Since consumer tech is a $964 billion market globally, Google owns less than 0.24% of it -- a far cry from relevance, let alone monopoly. Framing itself as just another tech company allows Google to escape all sorts of unwanted attention. Non-monopolists tell the opposite lie: "We're in a league of our own." Entrepreneurs are always biased to understate the scale of competition, but that is the biggest mistake a startup can make. The fatal temptation is to describe your market extremely narrowly so that you dominate it by definition. Suppose you want to start a restaurant in Palo Alto that serves British food. "No one else is doing it," you might reason. "We'll own the entire market." But that is only true if the relevant market is the market for British food specifically. What if the actual market is the Palo Alto restaurant market in general? And what if all the restaurants in nearby towns are part of the relevant market as well? These are hard questions, but the bigger problem is that you have an incentive not to ask them at all. When you hear that most new restaurants fail within one or two years, your instinct will be to come up with a story about how yours is different. You'll spend time trying to convince people that you are exceptional instead of seriously considering whether that is true. It would be better to pause and consider whether there are people in Palo Alto who would rather eat British food above all else. They may well not exist. In 2001, my co-workers at PayPal and I would often get lunch on Castro Street in Mountain View, Calif. We had our pick of restaurants, starting with obvious categories like Indian, sushi and burgers. There were more options once we settled on a type: North Indian or South Indian, cheaper or fancier, and so on. In contrast to the competitive local restaurant market, PayPal was then the only email-based payments company in the world. We employed fewer people than the restaurants on Castro Street did, but our business was much more valuable than all those restaurants combined. Starting a new South Indian restaurant is a really hard way to make money. If you lose sight of competitive reality and focus on trivial differentiating factors -- maybe you think your naan is superior because of your great-grandmother's recipe -- your business is unlikely to survive. The problem with a competitive business goes beyond lack of profits. Imagine you're running one of those restaurants in Mountain View. You're not that different from dozens of your competitors, so you've got to fight hard to survive. If you offer affordable food with low margins, you can probably pay employees only minimum wage. And you'll need to squeeze out every efficiency: That is why small restaurants put Grandma to work at the register and make the kids wash dishes in the back. A monopoly like Google is different. Since it doesn't have to worry about competing with anyone, it has wider latitude to care about its workers, its products and its impact on the wider world. Google's motto -- "Don't be evil" -- is in part a branding ploy, but it is also characteristic of a kind of business that is successful enough to take ethics seriously without jeopardizing its own existence. In business, money is either an important thing or it is everything. Monopolists can afford to think about things other than making money; non-monopolists can't. In perfect competition, a business is so focused on today's margins that it can't possibly plan for a long-term future. Only one thing can allow a business to transcend the daily brute struggle for survival: monopoly profits. So a monopoly is good for everyone on the inside, but what about everyone on the outside? Do outsize profits come at the expense of the rest of society? Actually, yes: Profits come out of customers' wallets, and monopolies deserve their bad reputation -- but only in a world where nothing changes. In a static world, a monopolist is just a rent collector. If you corner the market for something, you can jack up the price; others will have no choice but to buy from you. Think of the famous board game: Deeds are shuffled around from player to player, but the board never changes. There is no way to win by inventing a better kind of real-estate development. The relative values of the properties are fixed for all time, so all you can do is try to buy them up. But the world we live in is dynamic: We can invent new and better things. Creative monopolists give customers more choices by adding entirely new categories of abundance to the world. Creative monopolies aren't just good for the rest of society; they're powerful engines for making it better. Even the government knows this: That is why one of its departments works hard to create monopolies (by granting patents to new inventions) even though another part hunts them down (by prosecuting antitrust cases). It is possible to question whether anyone should really be awarded a monopoly simply for having been the first to think of something like a mobile software design. But something like Apple's monopoly profits from designing, producing and marketing the iPhone were clearly the reward for creating greater abundance, not artificial scarcity: Customers were happy to finally have the choice of paying high prices to get a smartphone that actually works. The dynamism of new monopolies itself explains why old monopolies don't strangle innovation. With Apple's iOS at the forefront, the rise of mobile computing has dramatically reduced Microsoft's decadeslong operating system dominance. Before that, IBM's hardware monopoly of the 1960s and '70s was overtaken by Microsoft's software monopoly. AT&T had a monopoly on telephone service for most of the 20th century, but now anyone can get a cheap cellphone plan from any number of providers. If the tendency of monopoly businesses was to hold back progress, they would be dangerous, and we'd be right to oppose them. But the history of progress is a history of better monopoly businesses replacing incumbents. Monopolies drive progress because the promise of years or even decades of monopoly profits provides a powerful incentive to innovate. Then monopolies can keep innovating because profits enable them to make the long-term plans and finance the ambitious research projects that firms locked in competition can't dream of. So why are economists obsessed with competition as an ideal state? It is a relic of history. Economists copied their mathematics from the work of 19th-century physicists: They see individuals and businesses as interchangeable atoms, not as unique creators. Their theories describe an equilibrium state of perfect competition because that is what's easy to model, not because it represents the best of business. But the long-run equilibrium predicted by 19th-century physics was a state in which all energy is evenly distributed and everything comes to rest -- also known as the heat death of the universe. Whatever your views on thermodynamics, it is a powerful metaphor. In business, equilibrium means stasis, and stasis means death. If your industry is in a competitive equilibrium, the death of your business won't matter to the world; some other undifferentiated competitor will always be ready to take your place. Perfect equilibrium may describe the void that is most of the universe. It may even characterize many businesses. But every new creation takes place far from equilibrium. In the real world outside economic theory, every business is successful exactly to the extent that it does something others cannot. Monopoly is therefore not a pathology or an exception. Monopoly is the condition of every successful business. Tolstoy famously opens "Anna Karenina" by observing: "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Business is the opposite. All happy companies are different: Each one earns a monopoly by solving a unique problem. All failed companies are the same: They failed to escape competition.
According to the article above by Peter Thiel do you think perfect competition is best for the economy and for consumers? Why or why not? What does Peter Thiel think about perfect competition versus monopolies?
