In August, US district judge Amit Mehta ruled that Google has been unlawfully leveraging its dominance in the online search space to suppress competition and hinder innovation. Mehta set a timeline for a trial on the proposed remedies for next spring, with a final decision expected by August 2025.

Even before that—indeed, as recently as just this past week—Google was hit by a second adverse ruling from another US district judge. James Donato, the judge in question, declared that Google’s app store constituted a monopoly, ordering the company to make a slew of changes.

While Google has struck a defiant tone in response to the legal setbacks and will not surrender without a fight, we’re now staring at a future where Google, at least as we know it, could change for good. 

Today, Google controls 90% of internet searches in America and has built an empire on the back of this, using its dominance to shape the broader digital landscape. The legal remedy options range from relatively modest adjustments, like curbing its payment deals with device manufacturers, to structural changes that could rip the company apart. 

But even if such remedies are enacted, will consumers, who have built a habit around Google’s services, actually turn to alternatives?

The fundamental issue here is whether competition will truly flourish if Google is curbed or broken up. Historically, competition has served as a powerful driver of innovation, forcing companies to create better products, improve efficiencies, and offer more value to consumers. Rivalries push businesses to think creatively, develop new technologies, and refine their services, all while lowering costs. 

The rise of industries such as telecommunications, automobiles, and even early tech has often been fueled by fierce competition that fosters breakthroughs and benefits for consumers.

However, in the case of Big Tech, competition has led to consolidation rather than fostering innovation. Instead of out-innovating their rivals, giants like Google, Meta, and Amazon have systematically acquired competitors, absorbing startups that pose even the merest of threats or offer the slightest of synergies. 

By buying out emerging players or crushing them with their immense resources, Big Tech has been able to maintain dominance, stifling the potential for true competition. This consolidation not only reduces the diversity of the market but also slows down innovation, as fewer challengers exist to push these companies to innovate beyond maintaining their market position.

But will breaking it apart suddenly spark a renaissance of new digital platforms? Or will users, even with other options, continue favouring Google simply out of habit or because it genuinely meets their needs better?

Are we witnessing the dawn of an era where courts and regulators around the globe begin to dismantle the myth of tech exceptionalism, revealing it as mere wishful thinking when it comes to the applicability of legal rules? The challenges posed by Big Tech are not limited to their individual impacts on consumers but extend far beyond, affecting the fabric of society, the structure of markets, and the dynamics of businesses. 

The question is no longer just whether these companies comply with specific laws, but whether their unchecked dominance reshapes entire ecosystems. Will the regulators rise to the occasion, balancing innovation with accountability, and ensuring that these giants do not erode the competitive, equitable foundations that underlie modern economies? Or will they remain overpowered, leaving societies to grapple with the far-reaching consequences of unrestrained technological monopolies?

When does big become bad?

Newer competition struggles to emerge against Big Tech due to several entrenched barriers. First, the sheer scale and resources of companies such as Google, Apple, and Amazon allow them to dominate key infrastructure, from cloud services to app stores, making it nearly impossible for smaller players to compete on an even footing. 

Additionally, Big Tech firms often lock users into their ecosystems with tightly integrated services, creating high switching costs for consumers and discouraging them from adopting alternatives. Furthermore, these companies use aggressive acquisition strategies, buying out promising startups before they can grow into serious competitors. 

Finally, their immense influence over data and algorithms creates a self-reinforcing advantage, where more users generate more data, improving their services and further entrenching their dominance, leaving little room for new entrants to gain a foothold in the market.

The 2020 report from the US House Committee on the Judiciary’s Subcommittee on Antitrust painted a grim picture of the digital economy. It found that Big Tech companies, including Google, act as gatekeepers and decide how services, products, and information are distributed. The online marketplace, they argued, has become overly centralised, stifling entrepreneurship, narrowing consumer choices, and threatening user privacy. 

Yet, in this tightly controlled digital ecosystem, consumers appear paradoxically content. Google’s vast user base is a testament to the fact that many find its services indispensable, even if they’re built on tactics that limit competition.

For regulators, of course, it is a major issue when nothing grows in Google’s shadow—be it due to acquisitions, exclusive deals, or control over distribution channels—preventing the market from working as it should. The company’s dominance becomes a kind of inertia, where progress is limited not by technical capability but by an absence of fair competition. Google’s acquisition strategy is emblematic of this: it has bought more than 200 companies in the past two decades, many of which could have grown into real competitors. 

However, Google’s defenders—as much as any other Big Tech’s, in fairness—will argue that size has enabled the company to create superior products. For instance, the seamless integration of its services, from search to maps to email, undeniably enhances user experience. Dismantling these integrations could lead to a fragmented and less intuitive ecosystem. Beyond this, Google has the resources to invest in cutting-edge AI, cloud services, and even health initiatives.

In a world without Google’s dominance, could consumers face the same quality of services they’ve become accustomed to, or would they need to navigate a more complex and disjointed digital environment? Moreover, the idea of privacy might become even more precarious in a fragmented market, where smaller players may be less equipped to handle data responsibly.

The consumer isn’t always right

This raises the critical question: is the consumer benefiting from the current state, or would they be better served in a reimagined, competitive market?

It’s hard to argue against the utility and excellence of Google’s products—Google Search is unrivalled in speed and accuracy, and its suite of tools, from Gmail to Google Maps, have become ubiquitous and indispensable for billions worldwide. 

Consumers have grown comfortable with the familiarity and convenience that Google offers. In this sense, many would argue that the current state benefits the consumer—after all, most of Google’s core services are free to use. Why fix what doesn’t seem broken?

But this narrative overlooks the long-term implications of unchecked dominance. In the short term, consumers may appear to benefit from Google’s integrated ecosystem, but the lack of competition means that there is little pressure on the company to innovate beyond what is necessary to maintain its position. 

The regulator’s envisaged state—one where competition flourishes—could lead to new, unexpected innovations that better serve consumers’ evolving needs. It could also offer alternatives that are more privacy-conscious or cater to niche markets in ways that a monopolistic entity like Google cannot.

In an ideal competitive market, consumers are the ultimate beneficiaries. They get to choose from a variety of products, pushing companies to constantly improve and offer more value. 

In the case of Google, real competition could potentially lower costs for advertisers, enhance privacy for users, and bring forth services that are more attuned to individual needs. The envisaged state promises diversity in the digital space, a flourishing of ideas, and a system where the consumer truly dictates the direction of the market—not just the giant corporations that dominate it today.

For now, however, consumers continue to use Google because it works, and works well. But one must ask: is it truly the best option, or just the most familiar? Would more competition give us a better internet experience? If the answer is yes, then the current state, while seemingly beneficial, may not be as favourable as it appears.

Change is never easy

For all the talk of promoting competition, the reality is that change will take time, and plenty of it. Even if courts rule against Google and opt for structural remedies, the company’s appeal process will drag out for years. 

Legal battles with a company this wealthy—Google is set to rake in an estimated $80 billion in free cash flow this year—are an endurance test. Sundar Pichai, Google’s chief executive, acknowledges that the company’s legal struggles will span a lengthy timeline, long enough for users, regulators, and investors alike to grow weary. The lawyers and ecosystem would get rich, even as users grow more entangled in Google’s web of products. By the time any final ruling is enforced, Google’s landscape may have already shifted, making the intended remedies feel anachronistic.

The crux of the antitrust argument against Google lies in its use of tactics to cement its dominance. Paying Apple nearly $20 billion annually to ensure Google remains the default search engine on iPhones or imposing hefty fees on in-app payments may be sharp-elbowed tactics, but they’re also central to the digital experience many consumers accept or even appreciate. It begs the question: is bigger necessarily bad, or has Google simply gotten so big that its dominance feels like the natural order of things in today’s digital society?

Breaking up Google, while dramatic, may not be the panacea some imagine. Even with alternatives at their disposal, consumers may stick with Google because it works. People are creatures of habit, and when a product consistently delivers, they are unlikely to switch, no matter how enticing other options may be. Moreover, dismantling a company doesn’t guarantee competition will thrive in a meaningful way. 

In fact, Google’s rivals are already large enough to present their own monopoly concerns. Amazon, Apple, and Meta aren’t exactly scrappy upstarts—they, too, dominate their sectors with similar tactics, leaving consumers with a narrowing field of true choice.

Breaking up Big Tech won’t free us from its grip because the chains of convenience and habit are far stronger than the walls of monopoly. Reimagining monopolies requires more than just regulatory dismantling. It needs the fostering of actual and serious competition that not only rivals Big Tech’s innovations but also addresses consumer habits and trust. 

The challenge isn’t just structural but behavioural, and solving it involves creating compelling alternatives that genuinely improve the user experience while reducing dependency on a few dominant platforms. 

Ultimately, the belief that Google’s dominance (as much as other BigTechs) can be swiftly overturned remains largely speculative. The verdict on whether tech giants like Google are too powerful is still out, but one thing is certain—any meaningful reckoning will take years, if not decades, to play out. In the meantime, consumers will continue using Google, not because they lack options, but because the alternatives, for now, don’t seem better enough to warrant a switch.