The Evolution of the Poison Pill
One of the most important developments in corporate law occurred 40 years ago when the Delaware Supreme Court approved an early version of the poison pill, a potent antitakeover device. The pill started as an untested, risky strategy to counter a particular type of potentially abusive tender offer. Over the ensuing decades, the poison pill evolved into an all-purpose antitakeover device that could effectively prevent almost any takeover, not just abusive ones.
Although hundreds of scholarly articles have been written about the poison pill, none has empirically examined the textual evolution of the device itself. The poison pill is simply a document, in the form of a contract, that spells out a mechanism for punishing a hostile bidder that engages in a hostile takeover. This Article uses a new database of the texts of 3,500 poison pills stretching back to the early 1980s to trace the evolution of the poison pill itself from its earliest beginnings to its modern form.
The analysis reveals that the poison pill was largely adapted from preexisting documents and did not emerge full-fledged at a particular point in time. Instead, the pill gradually evolved into its near-current form over a decade through innovations by multiple law firms. This challenges the standard narrative that the poison pill emerged from a single technological invention by one law firm. The revolutionary moment was not only the drafting of the document itself, but the Delaware Supreme Court’s endorsement of the instrument.
This Article argues that the innovation was not so much a technical one, as is commonly believed, but a policy innovation. The Delaware Supreme Court’s decision to validate the pill served essentially as a private antitakeover statute—it delegated to law firms the authority to enact and revise antitakeover law of the state through privately drafted contracts. This solved a problem of political gridlock in Delaware, where existing institutions were unable to provide a solution to the perceived problem of takeovers. This policy innovation may provide a roadmap for private law solutions to other public policy problems in corporate law.
A “Minority Report” on Antitrust Policy in the Generative AI Ecosystem
Competition regulators have proposed preemptive regulatory approaches toward the generative artificial intelligence (AI) ecosystem, with a focus on partnerships, investments, and other relationships involving technology platforms and independent developers of foundation models and large language models. Detailed factual examination of platform/developer relationships in the generative AI ecosystem shows that these arrangements most likely implement an efficient division of labor between platforms, which specialize in the supply of financial capital and computing infrastructure, and model and applications developers, which specialize in the supply of innovation expertise. Developers typically enter into non-exclusive relationships with multiple platforms, which diminishes anticompetitive risks arising from potential foreclosure effects while generating procompetitive gains arising from scale economies and reduced cost of capital. Moreover, large platforms are exposed to significant competition both at the “ecosystem” level from other large platforms that may have comparable economies of scope across each segment of the AI stack and specialized developers that have differentiated capacities in a particular segment of the AI stack. While there is little basis for antitrust intervention at this stage in the development of the generative AI ecosystem, there is considerable basis for enhanced enforcement of intellectual property rights to address a potential market failure in supporting financing, production, and licensing structures for higher-value creative content in AI-enabled digital environments.
The Lost Origins of Antitrust
Over the last decade, the once-sleepy field of antitrust has suddenly sprung to the forefront of public attention. The digitalization of the economy, the expansion of Big Tech, and the rise of platform monopolies have all raised deep questions about the nature of corporate power and law’s capacity to constrain it. Some scholars have argued that antitrust enforcement must be reinvigorated in substance and broadened in scope in order to combat rapidly rising economic inequality. Others have argued that antitrust law is ill-equipped to address these broad moral issues and instead must be re-focused on its traditional principles of consumer welfare maximization. Still others have argued for a mixed approach, asserting that antitrust law should be interpreted to protect a range of values, including political, economic, social, and moral goals. But despite their sharp disagreements, the dominant theories of antitrust share a common understanding about the proper means of achieving them: antitrust law is—and has always been—about promoting competition. The best way to pursue the ultimate goals of antitrust, this view holds, is to preserve rivalry between firms in the marketplace. In other words, the supreme evil of market regulation is cooperation, and antitrust regulators must do everything in their power to stop it.
But, as this Article shows, the conventional wisdom about the underlying principles of antitrust is based on a misunderstanding of history. In particular, the dominant accounts of antitrust today underestimate the role that economic cooperation played in informing legislators’ beliefs about how to regulate markets. Historically, politicians, legislators, and policymakers frequently voiced the opinion that capitalism required a careful balancing of competition with its counterpart, cooperation. Functioning markets required rivalrous behavior, to be sure, but they also required cooperative behavior. Corporations needed to raise capital, hire employees, and sign contracts. All of these actions involved the crafting of agreement between economic actors with diverse interests. They also, importantly, required the active intervention of the law. When the pillars of American antitrust law were being laid, this dynamic was well-recognized. From the Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890 to the Clayton Antitrust Act of 1914 to the Hart-Scott-Rodino Antitrust Improvements Act of 1976, market regulation was structured around a careful balancing of competing forces. Legislators did not wish to eliminate cooperation from the American economy—they wished to channel it.
This lost history of antitrust law sheds light on the broader question of how corporate law both shapes and is shaped by beliefs about the ideal ordering of economic activity. Should a national economy be structured around large corporations or small ones? Should it be focused on increasing production or protecting resources? Should it balance incomes, or increase the rewards to success, or incentivize moral behavior, or something else entirely? These fundamental questions were all at play during the key moments of antitrust law, and the ways that society fashioned answers to them have had long-standing effects on the direction of the American economy. And while some would argue that one single principle (say, efficiency, or competition or sustainability) should triumph over others, these principles were never firmly established through legislation and remain deeply contested. More broadly, this Article aims to reignite a conversation about the purpose of markets and how we as a society should regulate them. Antitrust has played an outsized role in determining the way that citizens, firms, and regulators envision our economy. Indeed, it is the most axiomatic (if not the most enforced) tenet of economic regulation today that anti-competitive behavior is illegal. But it was not always so, and it might not be again.