Again in 2002, the private investment firm called Hicks Muse that owned the Vlasic Pickle Company sought to purchase the Claussen Pickle Company. The Federal Commerce Fee blocked the merger. Within the press launch asserting the motion, the FTC stated:
Based on the FTC’s criticism, Hicks Muse’s proposed acquisition of Claussen would remove competitors and the distinctive rivalry between the 2 nationwide pickle manufacturers. Claussen is the dominant producer of refrigerated pickles and Vlasic serves as the first worth constraint on Claussen. Collectively, the businesses would have a monopoly share of the refrigerated pickle market in the US. The criticism alleges that the impact of the proposed acquisition, if consummated, could also be to minimize competitors considerably and result in will increase in costs or a discount in aggressive vigor. The criticism additionally alleges that Vlasic is the main vendor of premium shelf-stable pickles and that Vlasic’s shelf-stable pickles additionally function as a aggressive constraint on Claussen. Lastly, the Fee contends that entry into the refrigerated pickles market by a competitor is prone to be neither ample nor well timed sufficient to alleviate the possible anticompetitive results of the transaction as proposed.
I’ve no deep perception into the entry and exit dynamics of the pickle business, though it does appear to me that when the 2 greatest producers in a market search to merge, the antitrust authorities are proper to take a detailed look. However setting apart the slender problem of positive factors to pickle shoppers, the case led to a broader enrichment of our cultural panorama within the type of a poem by Thomas B. Leary, who served as a member of the FTC on the time. The poem was delivered at a gathering of alumni of the FTC on December 18, 2002. It’s known as:
(With apologies to “The Spell of the Yukon” by
Robert Service.)
“There are unusual issues performed within the midnight solar
By the boys who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That may make your blood run chilly . . .”
So begins a narrative of grit and glory:
The Cremation of Sam McGee.
I keep in mind when, as a boy of ten,
T’was the epitome of poetry.
We right here unveil a gentler story,
Which nonetheless will stir the blood,
The place heroes strive, in coat and tie,
To serve the general public good.
* * *
There are unusual issues performed in Washington
When corporations are bought.
And paper trails inform lurid tales
Of worth hikes to unfold.
It isn’t good to lift the value
When rivals have disappeared.
The issue, although, is how will we all know
Earlier than the deal has cleared.
The instances we face are in all places
However, the strangest I’ve seen up to now
Was the time we took a great lengthy look
At pickles in a jar.
Now, it’s possible you’ll say in a scornful means:
“Who cares what the events declare?
A nickle’s a nickle and a pickle’s a pickle;
They’re all precisely the identical!”
However, you see, they’re not. Some like them sizzling
And a few like them chilly and clear.
We needed to say: “What is going to you pay
For one, if the opposite grows expensive?”
We sacrificed leisure as a way to measure
Elasticity of demand.
As we fastidiously counted, the proof mounted.
The pickles, it appears, had been scanned!
On these events, regression equations
Are by no means thought of a bore.
The pluses and minuses cleared out the sinuses,
And thrilled us all to the core.
“The Spell of the Yukon,” certainly! The subsequent time I learn
These poems I cherished way back,
In regards to the quest for gold within the bitter chilly
And wolves that howl within the snow – –
I’ll say: “My lad, you’ve by no means had
A second so chic
As that shining hour when market energy
Was checked within the nick of time!”
* * *
In the present day, all through this favored land
The solar is shining sturdy.
The bands are taking part in all over the place,
As youngsters skip alongside.
As a result of these pickles, these luscious pickles
Nonetheless are bought for a track.
Tom Leary
(With a last-minute nod to the
next-best poem within the language.)
Again in 2002, the private investment firm called Hicks Muse that owned the Vlasic Pickle Company sought to purchase the Claussen Pickle Company. The Federal Commerce Fee blocked the merger. Within the press launch asserting the motion, the FTC stated:
Based on the FTC’s criticism, Hicks Muse’s proposed acquisition of Claussen would remove competitors and the distinctive rivalry between the 2 nationwide pickle manufacturers. Claussen is the dominant producer of refrigerated pickles and Vlasic serves as the first worth constraint on Claussen. Collectively, the businesses would have a monopoly share of the refrigerated pickle market in the US. The criticism alleges that the impact of the proposed acquisition, if consummated, could also be to minimize competitors considerably and result in will increase in costs or a discount in aggressive vigor. The criticism additionally alleges that Vlasic is the main vendor of premium shelf-stable pickles and that Vlasic’s shelf-stable pickles additionally function as a aggressive constraint on Claussen. Lastly, the Fee contends that entry into the refrigerated pickles market by a competitor is prone to be neither ample nor well timed sufficient to alleviate the possible anticompetitive results of the transaction as proposed.
I’ve no deep perception into the entry and exit dynamics of the pickle business, though it does appear to me that when the 2 greatest producers in a market search to merge, the antitrust authorities are proper to take a detailed look. However setting apart the slender problem of positive factors to pickle shoppers, the case led to a broader enrichment of our cultural panorama within the type of a poem by Thomas B. Leary, who served as a member of the FTC on the time. The poem was delivered at a gathering of alumni of the FTC on December 18, 2002. It’s known as:
(With apologies to “The Spell of the Yukon” by
Robert Service.)
“There are unusual issues performed within the midnight solar
By the boys who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That may make your blood run chilly . . .”
So begins a narrative of grit and glory:
The Cremation of Sam McGee.
I keep in mind when, as a boy of ten,
T’was the epitome of poetry.
We right here unveil a gentler story,
Which nonetheless will stir the blood,
The place heroes strive, in coat and tie,
To serve the general public good.
* * *
There are unusual issues performed in Washington
When corporations are bought.
And paper trails inform lurid tales
Of worth hikes to unfold.
It isn’t good to lift the value
When rivals have disappeared.
The issue, although, is how will we all know
Earlier than the deal has cleared.
The instances we face are in all places
However, the strangest I’ve seen up to now
Was the time we took a great lengthy look
At pickles in a jar.
Now, it’s possible you’ll say in a scornful means:
“Who cares what the events declare?
A nickle’s a nickle and a pickle’s a pickle;
They’re all precisely the identical!”
However, you see, they’re not. Some like them sizzling
And a few like them chilly and clear.
We needed to say: “What is going to you pay
For one, if the opposite grows expensive?”
We sacrificed leisure as a way to measure
Elasticity of demand.
As we fastidiously counted, the proof mounted.
The pickles, it appears, had been scanned!
On these events, regression equations
Are by no means thought of a bore.
The pluses and minuses cleared out the sinuses,
And thrilled us all to the core.
“The Spell of the Yukon,” certainly! The subsequent time I learn
These poems I cherished way back,
In regards to the quest for gold within the bitter chilly
And wolves that howl within the snow – –
I’ll say: “My lad, you’ve by no means had
A second so chic
As that shining hour when market energy
Was checked within the nick of time!”
* * *
In the present day, all through this favored land
The solar is shining sturdy.
The bands are taking part in all over the place,
As youngsters skip alongside.
As a result of these pickles, these luscious pickles
Nonetheless are bought for a track.
Tom Leary
(With a last-minute nod to the
next-best poem within the language.)