Most of the reporting of the AT&T-BellSouth merger can’t help but raise the irony that it seems to be re-assembling the old Bell System. After all, the combined AT&T-BellSouth will incorporate four of the seven regional Bell companies created by the 1984 settlement that ended the six-year antitrust case against the old Ma Bell.
Certainly the irony is fair to cite, but beyond that, a lot has been forgotten about the details of the antitrust settlement and its original goals. All that remains is the popular assumption that local and long distance service must be kept separate to preserve telecom competition.
The AT&T break-up is commonly misunderstood to have been a judicial order and a punitive judgment against monopoly behavior.
Here are just three examples of the error from the March 6 news reports of the AT&T-BellSouth merger (emphasis mine).
From USA Today:
"Four of the original seven regional Bell phone companies created in the court-ordered breakup of AT&T — plus what remained of AT&T — would become part of the new AT&T."
From UPI:
“As a result, if the buyout of BellSouth is approved, four of the seven former AT&T companies that were split up by the government to prevent a monopoly in the industry will be reunited once again.”
From The Minneapolis Star-Tribune:
"…That appears to mean that the only likely future buyer of Qwest is Verizon, the other remaining local telephone company that grew out of the consolidation of the telecom firms created by the 1980s court-ordered breakup of the old AT&T."
The truth is that the AT&T break-up was neither court-ordered nor punitive. I remember it well. At the time, I had been covering the industry at Electronic News for just over a year.
The AT&T divestiture was the result of a negotiated settlement between AT&T and the U.S. Department of Justice. The case had lingered six years, having been initiated during the Ford administration. AT&T admitted no wrongdoing. The settlement was announced in January 1982, the same day the Justice Department outright dropped its 13-year antitrust suit against IBM.
The agreement to the spin off the 22 Bell local exchange companies into seven geographic entities came as a surprise. Most thought that the Justice Department would force the separation of AT&T’s local and long distance operations from Western Electric and Bell Labs, its wholly-own manufactured and R&D arms. Instead, AT&T, at least at the time, thought it had negotiated a far more favorable deal. Most analysts agreed.
The settlement barred entry by the divested companies into both the competitive long distance and the emerging market for data networking and information services. Moreover, the original divestiture settlement called for AT&T to keep the Bell name and logo, ownership of the telephones and customer premises equipment in service (back then most consumers and business leased their equipment from AT&T), the Yellow Pages, and the licenses for its nascent local cellular phone operations. AT&T was set to walk away with two-thirds of the Bell System assets leaving its divested Bell companies two-thirds of the liabilities.
It was here that U.S. District Judge Harold Greene, who had been preciding over the case, stepped in and modified the final judgment to the benefit of the soon-to-be-divested companies, not, as is commonly believed, to punish them. In the Modified Final Judgment (MFJ), the Baby Bells ended up keeping the Bell name, their rights to CPE, the Yellow Pages and most significantly, the wireless licenses.
Still, given the state of competitive telecommunications at the time, the MFJ was highly advantageous to AT&T. Although AT&T still had a 90 percent market share in long distance, MCI and Sprint were making tremendous inroads. The divested Bell companies, by virtue of their captive customers, would have been even more than a threat. By keeping the Baby Bells out, AT&T was, by and large, protecting itself.
The divestiture agreement did not set an expiration date for the ban on Bell long distance and information services. Instead, it created a system of “triennial reviews” whereby Greene would review the competitive situation and rule whether the Bell entry into either segment would constitute a competitive threat. These triennial reviews continued well into the 1990s.
Over time, it is easy to see how the regulatory separation of local and long distance and voice and data became enshrined as policy. During a time of unprecedented change in telecom, virtually every regulatory proposal to bubble out of the Reagan, Bush or Clinton administrations had to take the MFJ into account. But when we understand that the MFJ was not imposed by the court as a remedy to a proven case of antitrust, but as the result of a settlement by AT&T largely to serve AT&T’s interest, it forces a change in our perspective. These walls never should have been accorded the sacrosanct treatment they received in the years since.
Indeed, the first triennial review in 1987, a landmark report by Peter Huber called “The Geodesic Network,” asserted that using geographical limits to regulate telecom, an industry that existed to break down geographical limits, would be extremely detrimental to the evolution of the U.S. networking infrastructure. Huber recommended that Greene lift the MFJ restrictions and allow market forces to drive the evolution of the U.S. telecom network, which he correctly concluded—almost a decade before the World Wide Web emerged—had begun to shift from the closed hierarchical architecture built by the Bell System to an open node-to-node and peer-to-peer architecture. His findings were debated, but largely dismissed. Greene, however, did begin to loosen restrictions on information services, which ultimately would allow Bell entry into email and data networking, which at the time was still using early packet-switched protocols such as X.400 and X.25. Still, the long-distance prohibition prevented the divested companies from becoming full-fledged national and international data competitors with AT&T, MCI and Sprint.
By the mid-1990s, analysts such as Probe Research’s Victor Schnee said telecom market economics, both at the supply and demand sides, could not support seven large but partitioned local exchange companies and that consolidation was inevitable.
What Congress gave us instead was the 1996 Telecom Act, which all but cemented the walls between local, long distance, voice and data that AT&T, not Judge Greene, had created. It instituted an elaborate system of price controls that propped up competitors that would never be profitable if left to market mechanisms. It heavily penalized the local exchange companies, and prevented them from leveraging their size and scale to construct broadband networks.
Finally, 22 years after divestiture, we’re getting past all this. The flaws of the 1996 Act are understood. Former FCC Chairman Reed Hundt, who ten years ago called a proposed merger between BellSouth and the old AT&T “unthinkable,” now says it makes sense. AT&T, the company that divided local and long distance to begin with, no longer exists, having been devoured and restructured by one of its own children. The competitive market is broadband and national in scope. Telecommunications has completed a major, long-delayed, phase in its evolution from narrowband voice to broadband data.