The historic antitrust trial of Microsoft Corp was dominated by two men -- onepresent in the courtroom, one not. Now, a third man has made his mark.The first dominant figure was David Boies, the Justice Department's surgeonof interrogation. The other was Bill Gates, who never took the stand butcast a shadow over the proceedings nonetheless -- and who blew a hole inMicrosoft's credibility that none of its subsequent efforts could patch. Thethird, who stepped in this week with an order to break the software giant intwo, was US district Judge Thomas Penfield Jackson.Regardless of how the Microsoft case turns out, the Redmond, Wash, softwaregiant's defense will be studied in the future as an example of what not todo in court. The company was astonishingly arrogant, infuriating JudgeJackson with chop logic and repeatedly trying -- even at the very end -- to playhim for a fool. And its defense was so shoddy, so head-in-the-sand, that onehad to wonder why Microsoft's billions of dollars couldn't seem to buycompetent legal help.
Boies eviscerated Microsoft executive after executive with their own e-mailmessages, yet Microsoft's lawyers never seemed to bother reviewing thedocuments it knew Boies had -- late in the game, Microsoft witnesses were stillbeing hanged with nooses of their own making. When pressed on such points,the lawyers sniffed that Boies' assaults were long on theatrics and short onmatters of law -- but they never bothered to counter such tactics, even thoughit left Microsoft's witnesses looking like prize fools.
Daniel Rosen and Robert Muglia will bear bite marks for the rest of theirdays, but Gates' videotaped deposition was the software giant's crowninganti-achievement. His days before the cameras played like a bizarre mix ofPresident Clinton's Lewinsky deposition and "Rain Man," as the Microsoftboss claimed not to remember e-mail messages about top-level Microsoftstrategy and tendentiously debated the definition of such esoteric terms as"compete" and "concerned." It was an amazingly awful performance: Once thevideotapes were in the hands of the government, Boies could kill anymomentum Microsoft's lawyers managed to build up by simply putting Gatesback on-screen.
Judge Jackson was mostly a cipher during the trial. Sure, he got off a fewrockets at Microsoft's lawyers and witnesses, but for the most part he justlistened, occasionally shaking his head, chuckling or, well, nodding off abit. (Feel like throwing stones at the good judge for that one? Make sureyou can stay awake through a two-hour discussion of application programinterfaces first.) But in his June 7 memorandum and order breaking Microsoftin two, the judge displayed a dry wit and offered a brutal indictment ofGates' company.
Judge Jackson clearly resented Microsoft's clumsy attempts to hoodwink him.In December 1997, Judge Jackson ordered Microsoft to offer personal-computermakers a version of Windows without the Internet Explorer browser. Microsoft"complied" with that order by offering a version of Windows that it warnedwouldn't work -- a course of action the press immortalized as "compliancewith a raised middle finger." In January 1998, an infuriated Judge Jacksonaddressed Microsoft's David Cole on the point: "It seemed absolutely clearto you that I entered an order that required you to distribute a productthat would not work -- that's what you're telling me?"
"In plain English, yes," a helpless Cole replied. The episode stuck in thejudge's mind: In his June 7 order, he observed that "Microsoft has proveduntrustworthy in the past. In earlier proceedings in which a preliminaryinjunction was entered, Microsoft's purported compliance with thatinjunction while it was on appeal was illusory and its explanationdisingenuous."
At the trial's conclusion, Microsoft showed it still hadn't learned. Thesoftware giant expressed surprise two weeks ago when Judge Jackson refusedto provide for months of testimony about the potential consequences of abreakup, and since then has made no secret of the fact that on appeal itintends to make hay with Judge Jackson's "rush to judgment." Yet JudgeJackson got the last word, noting dryly in his order that "despite theirsurprise ... Microsoft's attorneys were promptly able to tender a 35-page'Offer of Proof,' summarizing in detail the testimony 16 witnesses wouldgive to explain why plaintiffs' proposed remedy, in its entirety, is a badidea. Within a week they added seven more."
Microsoft, the judge wrote in his order, "as it is presently organized andled is unwilling to accept the notion that it broke the law or accede to anorder amending its conduct." The judge noted that Microsoft officials "haverecently been quoted publicly to the effect that the company has 'donenothing wrong' and that it will be vindicated on appeal. The Court is wellaware that there is a substantial body of public opinion, some of itrational, that holds to a similar view. It is time to put that assertion tothe test."
As for why he accepted the Justice Department's proposed remedy, JudgeJackson dispensed with market theories and New Economy projections in favorof a more simple answer: "Plaintiffs won the case." Whatever one thinks ofthe merits of the Justice Department's pursuit of Microsoft, after more thantwo years of courtroom missteps only the most hard-core Microsoft partisancould disagree.
Copyright © 2000 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.