Some reaction letters to the judge's Microsoft decisionwere full of jurisprudence.Others you might call cruel and unusual punishment.
First a trickle, then a torrent of letters poured into the Hon. Thomas Penfield Jackson's highceilinged chambers about the Microsoft case. Hundreds of them from as far away as India and New Zealand, and that's not even counting the e-mails. Some were typed, some were handwritten, and one was inked in red magic marker. They ran the gamut from cranky to crazy, poignant to profane. Some came from people who were clearly working with unique realities of their own. Others came from prominent economists and law professors who wanted to submit their views for the record on issues that arose during the trial.
All told, they generally run about threeto-one against Jackson's finding that Mi- erosoft threw around its considerable weight to stifle competition and his subsequent order to split the company in two.
The judges far-flung pen-pals fall about evenly into the following categories:
People who hate government, despise lawyers and regard antitrust law as heavy-handed meddling;
■ People1 who love Microsoft and fear for their tech-related jobs;
■ People who love Microsoft and fear for their tech-heavy pension funds;
■ People who hate Microsoft, often because they've had terrible experiences with its products;
■ People who love the judge and regard him as courageous; People who hate the judge and regard him as a 63-year-old Luddite overwhelmed by advancing communications technology.
men on the rack where they have: long belonged is the greatest piece of judicial action I've seen in many years" wrote one woman from Provo, Utah. "I admire and respect you VERY MUCH. PS—Please excuse that Orrin Hatch is from Utah!" First, a look at some fan mail: "You are my hero! Putting Bill Gates and his hench-
A lawyer from Texas also weighed in with generous praise. "Congratulations," he wrote, "for having the intestinal fortitude and rigid spine that are necessary when the time comes for a jurist to roll up his sleeves, take off his gold watch, and make the sausage. You are correct, sir. The issue is abuse of monopolistic power, not how software innovation and development evolves."
"The day Bill Gates was born, the Devil began planning his retirement," wrote an- other man who didn't indicate where he lived. "Why (are) you fooling around with mediation?" wrote a man from Portland, Oregon. "Just close them down."
Among the hate mail, a halfdozen letters began: "Shame on you, Sir."
"Thanks for the expensive antibusiness bashing that you came up with," wrote one Milwaukee resident in a computer-generated postcard. "God how the judiciary needs a good housecleaning. PS— You vote Democrat, don't you?" the person added, apparently unaware that Jackson is a lifelong Republican.
"Let me ask, is there a bit of jealousy in you against Bill Gates?" wrote one woman from Oakland, California. "As for Joel Klein," she added, referring to the Justice Department's chief antitrust poobah, "we all know what he's looking for—he wants to join a big law firm in Washington, D.C., and make lots of money, it's all right for him, but not for Bill Gates."
"What attributes does the Justice Department look for when hiring attorneys? Is being a complete jerk a requirement?" wrote a woman from Redmond, Washington, where Microsoft is based.
"As a Harvard graduate, I am sure that I am smarter than you and your lackeys...and I definitely more common sense than any of you," wrote one man from Dennis, Massachusetts—apparently unaware that the judge graduated from Harvard Law School.
And how did the judge react to his mail? "Some of them were thoughtful pieces by people who were vitally interested in the case," he says, "Others were scurrilous diatribes that characterized me in all sorts of unprintable terms. I don't think I read any of them with any degree of care."
"PERHAPS YOU SHOULD TAKE EARLY RETIREMENT AND GET A JOB IN THE FORMER SOVIET UNION," WROTE ONE MAN.