United States v. Google LLC (2020)
Based on Wikipedia: United States v. Google LLC (2020)
Ten billion dollars a year. That's roughly what Google pays Apple just to remain the default search engine on iPhones and Safari. Not to be the only option—users can switch with a few taps—but simply to be the first thing people see when they open a browser.
This staggering sum sits at the heart of what many legal observers consider the most significant antitrust case against a technology company since the federal government took on Microsoft at the turn of the millennium. The question before the courts isn't whether Google makes a good search engine. Even the government acknowledges that Google Search is, by most measures, excellent. The question is whether Google has used its dominance—and its deep pockets—to ensure that no competitor ever gets the chance to prove they might be better.
What Antitrust Law Actually Means
Before diving into the specifics of this case, it helps to understand what antitrust law is trying to accomplish. The term sounds technical, almost clinical, but the underlying principle is straightforward: competition benefits consumers, and some companies become so powerful that they can strangle competition before it starts.
The Sherman Antitrust Act, passed in 1890, remains the foundation of American competition law. It was written during the age of railroad barons and oil monopolies, when a handful of industrialists controlled entire sectors of the economy. The law makes it illegal to monopolize or attempt to monopolize any part of trade or commerce.
Here's the crucial nuance: being a monopoly isn't itself illegal. A company that builds a better mousetrap and captures the entire market through sheer excellence has done nothing wrong. What the law prohibits is using monopoly power to prevent others from competing—rigging the game so that even a superior mousetrap couldn't reach consumers.
The distinction matters because Google has always defended itself by pointing to quality. People use Google because it works. Type a question into Google, and you usually get a useful answer. The government's response is that we'll never know whether someone else could have built something even better, because Google systematically closed off the pathways through which a competitor might have emerged.
The Road to the Courthouse
This lawsuit didn't materialize overnight. The federal government has been circling Google for well over a decade.
Back in 2008, the Department of Justice (DOJ) and Canadian regulators scrutinized a proposed advertising partnership between Google and Yahoo!—the two companies that together handled roughly ninety percent of online search advertising at the time. Under pressure, the companies abandoned the deal before it was formally blocked.
Three years later, in 2011, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) launched its own investigation into Google's search practices. Staff attorneys spent nineteen months digging through evidence and ultimately recommended that the agency bring an antitrust case. But in January 2013, the FTC commissioners voted to close the investigation without taking action.
Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, European regulators were less hesitant. The European Commission pursued Google aggressively throughout the 2010s, ultimately finding the company guilty of competition law violations in three separate cases. The most relevant of these for our purposes involved Android, Google's mobile operating system—a case with striking parallels to what the American government would later allege.
In Congress, lawmakers from both parties grew increasingly concerned about the power of what came to be called "Big Tech"—the quartet of Google, Apple, Amazon, and Meta (then known as Facebook). In October 2020, just two weeks before the presidential election, the Democratic majority staff on the House Judiciary Committee released a nearly 450-page report following a sixteen-month investigation. The conclusion was blunt: these companies wield "monopoly power."
On October 20, 2020, the Department of Justice filed suit.
What the Government Alleges
The core of the government's case is deceptively simple: Google pays enormous sums to ensure its search engine is the default option across the digital landscape. The company sends billions to Apple to be the default on iPhones and Safari. It strikes similar deals with Samsung, with mobile carriers like Verizon, with virtually anyone who makes decisions about what search engine users encounter first.
Why does this matter? Defaults are extraordinarily powerful. Most people never change them. When you buy a new iPhone and open Safari, Google appears automatically. You could switch to Bing or DuckDuckGo or any other search engine, but the vast majority of users simply use what's already there.
The government argues that this creates a self-reinforcing cycle. Because Google is the default, it handles more searches. More searches mean more data. More data means better results. Better results justify remaining the default. And the cycle continues, spinning faster and faster, until no competitor can possibly catch up.
According to the DOJ's estimates, Google controls approximately eighty-eight percent of the American search market. In search advertising—the business of selling ads that appear alongside search results—Google's share exceeds seventy percent. These aren't the numbers of a company that's merely popular. They're the numbers of a company that has, for practical purposes, conquered an industry.
The government's theory of harm goes beyond market share. When one company dominates advertising, it can charge higher prices. There's no competitive pressure pushing rates down. Advertisers pay what Google asks because there's no meaningful alternative. Those costs eventually flow through to consumers in the form of higher prices for the products being advertised.
Google's Defense
Google has mounted a vigorous defense, and it's worth taking their arguments seriously.
First, Google points out that it wins default placement by bidding for it. Apple could choose Bing or any other search engine. The fact that Apple consistently chooses Google, year after year, suggests that Google offers the best combination of quality and revenue sharing. This isn't anticompetitive behavior—it's winning in the marketplace.
Second, Google emphasizes that switching search engines takes seconds. Users aren't locked in. If Microsoft's Bing or any other competitor offered a meaningfully better experience, people would switch. They don't switch because Google Search genuinely works better. The company earned its dominance through excellence, not exclusionary tactics.
Third, Google argues that the government is punishing success. The Sherman Antitrust Act was meant to protect consumers from predatory monopolists who raise prices and degrade quality. Google Search is free to use and has continuously improved over the past two decades. Where's the consumer harm?
In December 2022, Google formally asked the court to dismiss the case, calling the DOJ's arguments "dubious." The motion was denied.
The Trial
The trial began on September 12, 2023, in federal district court in Washington, D.C. Judge Amit Mehta presided.
For weeks, attorneys from both sides presented their cases. The government, led by attorney Kenneth Dintzer, argued that Google had been unlawfully maintaining its monopoly since at least 2010. Google's legal team—drawn from three prominent law firms—countered that the company's success reflected nothing more than the quality of its products.
Much of the testimony centered on that ten-billion-dollar Apple deal. Witnesses from Google, Apple, Samsung, and Verizon described the negotiations and their understanding of what the payments were meant to accomplish. The government framed these payments as essentially buying market share. Google characterized them as fair compensation for valuable real estate.
The trial generated controversy beyond its substance. Judge Mehta faced criticism for closing the courtroom during certain testimonies and delaying the release of documents. Media organizations including Bloomberg News filed motions demanding greater public access. After a week of negotiations, Mehta agreed to allow public release of trial documents.
There was also the matter of missing evidence. In February 2023, the DOJ accused Google of destroying relevant documents through the use of auto-deleting chat messages. According to the government, Google employees continued using chat features that automatically erased their messages even after the company should have anticipated litigation—a practice that may have begun as early as 2019. Similar accusations emerged in a separate antitrust case brought by Epic Games, the maker of Fortnite.
The trial concluded on November 16, 2023. Closing arguments came the following May. Then everyone waited.
The Ruling
On August 5, 2024, Judge Mehta delivered his verdict. Google, he ruled, had acted illegally to maintain a monopoly in "general search services and general text advertising."
This was a landmark moment. The federal government had accused one of the world's most powerful companies of breaking antitrust law—and won. But a finding of liability is only half the battle. The harder question remained: what to do about it.
In antitrust cases, the remedy is often more consequential than the verdict itself. The government can win on liability but achieve little if the resulting penalties don't actually restore competition. Judge Mehta scheduled a separate proceeding to determine appropriate remedies.
In November 2024, the DOJ submitted an aggressive proposal. The government asked Judge Mehta to force Google to sell Chrome, its web browser—which is by far the most popular browser in the world. It also proposed forcing Google to either sell Android or prohibit the company from requiring that its services be installed on Android devices. Additionally, the government sought a ban on the kinds of exclusive default agreements that formed the centerpiece of the case, plus a requirement that Google share certain data with competitors for a decade.
Google characterized these proposals as "wildly overboard."
A fifteen-day remedies trial began on April 21, 2025. Both sides called roughly twenty witnesses, including senior executives from Google and from competitors like OpenAI (makers of ChatGPT). Google's chief executive, Sundar Pichai, testified. Hundreds of exhibits were entered into evidence.
In his ruling on remedies, Judge Mehta explicitly acknowledged the unusual nature of what he was being asked to do. "Unlike the typical case where the court's job is to resolve a dispute based on historic facts," he wrote, "here the court is asked to gaze into a crystal ball and look to the future."
The Final Remedy
In September 2025, Mehta announced his decision on remedies. Google would not be required to sell Chrome or Android—the government's most aggressive proposals were rejected. But the company would face meaningful new constraints.
First, Google could no longer enter into exclusive contracts making it the default search engine on devices or browsers. Those ten-billion-dollar Apple deals? Prohibited going forward. Any company that wants to make Google its default search engine remains free to do so, but Google can't pay for exclusivity.
Second, Google would be required to share certain data with competitors. This includes search index data—the massive database of web pages that Google has compiled over decades—as well as data about how users interact with search results. The theory is that competitors can't build better search engines without access to the raw material that Google has accumulated.
The reaction was divided, perhaps inevitably. The Department of Justice declared it a "significant win" in an official press release. And yet many observers characterized the outcome as a victory for Google as well.
Financial publication Barron's described the ruling as "almost a best-case scenario" for Google's parent company, Alphabet. One stock analyst called it a "home run" for Google and suggested it might pave the way for expanded artificial intelligence partnerships between Google and Apple. Tech journalist Lauren Feiner, writing for The Verge, went further, arguing that the remedies verdict signaled that "the antitrust fight against Big Tech may already be over."
On the day of the ruling, Google's stock price jumped eight points. The company had been found to have broken the law, and investors responded by buying more shares.
The Bigger Picture
Why did a ruling against Google feel, to so many observers, like Google winning?
Part of the answer lies in what didn't happen. The government asked for structural separation—breaking Google apart by forcing it to sell major products. That would have been genuinely disruptive. Chrome is used by roughly sixty-five percent of desktop internet users worldwide. Android powers about seventy percent of the world's smartphones. Forcing Google to divest these products would have reshaped the technology industry.
Instead, the remedy focuses on contracts and data sharing. These are meaningful constraints, but they leave Google's fundamental structure intact. The company continues to own Chrome, Android, and its core search business. It must compete more fairly going forward, but it enters that competition with every advantage it accumulated over the previous two decades.
There's also the question of timing. The case was filed in 2020 and won't be fully resolved until years of appeals have run their course. Technology moves fast. By the time final remedies take effect, the competitive landscape may have shifted in ways that make today's concerns obsolete—or that have created entirely new ones.
This case exists within a broader context of government action against Big Tech. Shortly after this lawsuit was filed, the FTC brought an antitrust case against Facebook (now Meta). Additional suits have targeted Amazon and Apple. The Department of Justice filed a second antitrust case against Google in 2023, this one focusing specifically on advertising technology—the complex machinery that powers online ads.
Legal scholars emphasize that these cases will shape antitrust law for a generation. "U.S. v. Google might be the first big case against Big Tech," noted John Newman of the University of Miami School of Law, "but it likely won't be the last."
Political Dimensions
One striking aspect of this case is its bipartisan support. Antitrust enforcement against technology companies enjoys backing across the political spectrum, though the underlying concerns differ somewhat.
Democrats like Senator Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts have focused on market power and consumer harm—traditional antitrust concerns about monopolistic behavior crushing competition. Warren praised the DOJ for bringing "a legitimate, long-time-coming suit against Google for engaging in anti-competitive, manipulative, and often illegal conduct."
Republicans like Senator Ted Cruz of Texas have emphasized censorship and political bias. Cruz praised the lawsuit while arguing that "Google abuses its power not just in the search market by using its monopoly power to make billions, but it also uses it to try to censor the American people."
These are different complaints, but they lead to the same conclusion: Google is too powerful and should face legal accountability. The rare bipartisan agreement helped insulate the case from accusations of political motivation.
Still, politics weren't entirely absent. The lawsuit was filed on October 20, 2020—just two weeks before the presidential election in which Donald Trump faced Joe Biden. Representative Steve Cohen, a Tennessee Democrat, questioned the timing publicly: "Why did the Trump Administration wait until TWO WEEKS before the election to file a lawsuit over Google's monopoly power?"
The answer, according to Deputy Attorney General Jeffrey Rosen, was simply that building a complex antitrust case takes time. The government wanted to "make sure that we've done the work that's necessary" before filing. Whether the timing was coincidental or calculated remains a matter of interpretation.
What Happens Next
As of late 2025, the case is far from over. Google has consistently indicated its intention to appeal. Legal observers widely expect years of additional litigation as the matter works its way through higher courts.
Appeals courts could uphold Judge Mehta's findings entirely, reverse them entirely, or reach some middle ground. They could accept his liability ruling while ordering different remedies, or they could find flaws in his legal reasoning that require the case to be reconsidered entirely.
Meanwhile, the technology landscape continues to evolve. The rise of artificial intelligence systems like ChatGPT has introduced what might be the first genuine threat to Google's search dominance in two decades. Users who once typed questions into Google can now ask ChatGPT directly, receiving conversational answers rather than lists of links. Whether this represents a competitive check on Google's power—or merely a new arena where similar dynamics will play out—remains to be seen.
The data-sharing requirements from Judge Mehta's remedy could, in theory, help AI competitors access the information they need to build better products. Or the requirements might prove toothless in practice, with Google sharing data in ways that technically comply with the order without providing meaningful competitive benefit.
What we can say with confidence is that this case represents a turning point in how the American government approaches technology monopolies. For years, Big Tech companies operated in a kind of regulatory vacuum, accumulating power while Washington watched. The United States v. Google lawsuit announced that the era of hands-off regulation was ending.
Whether the remedies imposed will actually restore competition—or whether Google's head start is simply too large to overcome—is a question that will take years, perhaps decades, to answer. The company was found to have broken the law. It remains to be seen whether that finding will make any practical difference to the billions of people who, every day, type their questions into a search bar and hit enter.