Patents 'sound less NASA and more Starfleet,' attorney says; is sci-fi's 'anti-gravity' already in the works?

Artist conception of Gravity Probe B and space-time.
NASA Universe via Flickr CC BY 2.0

A number of U.S. patent filings over the last decade point to the development of "anti-gravity" and might evidence the reverse engineering of alien technology in government possession, L.A. attorney Puya Partow-Navid wrote for Seyfarth late last month.

British astronomer Chris Impey cataloged for PBS News Hour the "flurry of activity over the past few years" fueling speculation about "unidentified anomalous phenomena" (UAP), also known as unidentified flying objects (UFOs), including congressional hearings in July. NASA released a report Thursday concluding that "we do not presently have the body of data needed to make definitive, scientific conclusions about UAP," but calling for more and better study.

In his article for Seyfarth, Partow-Navid listed four patent applications from 2016 to 2022 that suggest the inevitable invention of a gravitational propulsion system. Such a system could counterpose gravitational waves and the vacuum of space to move a spacecraft without propellant. A couple of the inventions "sound less NASA and more Starfleet," Partow-Navid wrote, thus evoking the connection to aliens. 

Mastery of gravity is a device of science fiction as old as the genre itself. Artificial gravity is essential to make human life in space plausible. Arthur C. Clarke in 2001 described ships that rotated around an axis to simulate gravity with centrifugal force. That's a scientifically sound method, if we can engineer and build the thing. When science fiction came to film and television in the 20th century, the zero-gravity special effects of Interstellar were either impossible or impossibly expensive, so artificial-gravity technology usually was just assumed.

"I was progressing in great leaps and bounds."
Illustration from H.G. Wells,
First Men on the Moon (1901)
Public domain via Internet Archive

If we can create gravity, we can cancel it out, futurists figure. H.G. Wells imagined a shield that would negate gravity as early as his 1901 First Men on the Moon. In the 1960s, Star Trek imagined anti-gravity to move heavy objects with minimal effort and even build cloud cities (a few years before (or "a long time" after) Lando Calrissian called one home). (See generally the Lawrence M. Krauss classic, The Physics of Star Trek (1995).) Gravity cancellation, though, was a solid venture into the hypothetical; there is no shortcut such as centrifugal force to get there. Fortunately for science fiction film and TV, anti-gravity is the easier deception.

Nevertheless, and the possible infusion of alien know-how notwithstanding, anti-gravity has been a subject of serious science and concerted military investigation on and off since World War II. Einstein's theory of general relativity was key, because if gravity is a force relative to mass and motion, then we might be able to manipulate it similarly. The door would be open not only to gravitational propulsion; even "warp drive" would be on the table: travel to a distant destination without actually crossing the space in between.

The patent applications that Partow-Navid cites are really not so far off the leading edge of human science. Claims of gravity manipulation have been floating around the scientific peer review space for three decades now. Even if no effort has come to verifiable fruition, the experiments are striking out in a direction promising enough to be credible and tantalizing.

That's not to discount that alien tech could offer a welcome assist. Pessimists, or realists?, who pooh-pooh warp drive point out that if it were so readily achievable that we would get there in the cosmically brief era of human scientific development, then some of the statistically probable prevalence of alien civilizations in the universe should be already in orbit around our planet.

Maybe they are.

The article is Puya Partow-Navid, Unraveling the UAP Enigma: Are Patents the Gateway to Alien Tech?, Seyfarth (Aug. 29, 2023).

Big Ag plays Goliath in film about GMO-seed litigation

A worthwhile movie you might have missed during the pandemic is Percy vs. Goliath (2020), starring Christopher Walken and Zach Braff, involving Canadian lawsuits over GMO seed contamination.

I caught up with the film last weekend. As the title suggests, it's a David vs. Goliath story about a workaday Canadian farmer, Percy Schmeiser (Walken) sued by agriculture giant Monsanto when Roundup-resistant canola strains turned up in the farmer's fields in Saskatchewan. Schmeiser countersued for libel and trespass.

The real-life case is Monsanto Canada Inc. v. Schmeiser (Can. 2004). The real-life Percy died in 2020 soon after the film was completed. There have been several documentaries about the case, besides this fictionalization.

Spoilers ahead.

Something I liked and had not expected in the film is the depiction of Percy's visit to India. The filmmakers do a good job conveying the fact that GMO seed drift and patent exclusivity is a worldwide problem. The film doesn't directly tackle the unknown risks of GMOs, both to human health and in global monoculture, but they're implicit in Percy's reasons for resisting GMO tech.

The film also doesn't tackle the separate problem of Roundup toxicity, which fueled mass tort litigation in the United States only later, in the 2010s. But the repeated mention of the product can't help but bring the issue to mind with the benefit of hindsight. (Certainly it brings the issue to my mind, remembering my summer work as a landscape laborer, Roundup streaming down my arms. Though that's nothing compared with soaked workers I saw on Central American fruit plantations in the 1990s.) Bayer acquired Monsanto in 2018 and agreed to settlements over Roundup in 2020. 

Percy mostly won in the end, in that Monsanto could not prove deliberate appropriation. But the court did find patent infringement and required Percy to surrender his seeds to Monsanto.

In the United States, the Supreme Court in 2013 ruled in favor of Monsanto in a seed case with different facts, Bowman v. Monsanto Co. An Indiana farmer had replanted seeds that Monsanto clients had sold to a grain elevator in violation of Monsanto's license, which prohibited downstream reuse. The later buyer infringed the patent, the court concluded.

In a U.S. case closer to Schmeiser but with a different procedural history, a broad farming coalition sought to nullify Monsanto patents to head off infringement claims they saw as an inevitable result of genetic drift. The court rejected the suit in Organic Seed Growers and Trade Association v. Monsanto Co. (Fed. Cir. 2013) for lack of controversy. Monsanto thereafter announced that it would not pursue infringement claims against non-client farmers for Roundup-resistant strains as long as they didn't use Roundup.

Informative for comparative law class, the film, Percy, includes a short courtroom scene toward the end in which Percy's solo lawyer Jackson Weaver (Braff) argues against the Big Ag sharks in the Canadian high court. Christina Ricci turned in an enjoyable supporting performance as environmental activist lawyer Rebecca Salcau. I recall that Ricci delightfully played scrappy attorney Liza Bump in the final season of Ally McBeal.

Weaver's and Salcau's resource limitations in facing off against Big Ag brought to mind A Civil Action (1998), and Percy overall is reminiscent of Dark Waters (2019) (on this blog). Percy's quiet tribulation is not the stuff of blockbusters, but it's surely worth the watch for anyone interested in the broad range of issues it raises in environmentalism, agriculture, food supply, civil litigation, product liability, intellectual property, and corporatocracy.

Though it was not a policy point in the film, I found compelling attorney Weaver's warning to Percy that losing the case would mean not only compensation on the merits to Monsanto, but liability to Monsanto for hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees for the very Big Ag attorneys who rendered the litigation playing field so unlevel as might, circularly, precipitate the loss.

Such is the rule for attorney fees in Canada and most of the world, and, alarmingly to me, more and more, by statute, in the United States. Civil rights advocates and the plaintiff bar herald attorney-fee shifting as vital to facilitate access to the courts for injured persons. But when the burn works both ways and a corporate Goliath prevails, the result should give us pause before wholeheartedly chucking out the pay-your-own-way rule of American common law. Writ small, this precisely is one of my objections to anti-SLAPP laws that place genuinely victimized individual plaintiffs at risk of having to pay outrageous fee awards to compensate corporate mass media defense attorneys.

I watched Percy vs. Goliath on the Roku Channel with ads. The film is available for less than $4 on many streaming platforms.

Gladstone, Doctorow game out tech reg quagmire

Cory Doctorow
Houari B. via Flickr CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

On the Media's Brooke Gladstone talked to Cory Doctorow, author, internet activist, etc., on September 1 about, well, everything, and it's a breathtaking hour of must-listen radio.

The conversation wrapped up every issue I care about in technology and society today into a neat and intelligible bundle of the utter mess that it is: intellectual property, antitrust, privacy and data protection, politics and corruption, and the corporatocracy that's incinerating democracy. Doctorow is more optimistic than I that human civilization can yet be saved, so the program is not even a downer in the end.

I feel like I'm someone who knows a fair bit about this stuff, so I was humbled by how much I learned. I want to spill it all here, but I ought not be a spoiler. I'll share just a tidbit.

You know that thing when videos go viral and some average joe or jane inspires another generation of youth to plot a career as a social media sensation?

Yeah, not a thing.  At least not always an organic thing. Companies such as TikTok "twiddle" or "heat up"—terms of art—selected content to make it "viral," even while users think that they collectively are driving virality by demand.

Why? It's a "giant teddy bear" strategy, Doctorow explained. The carney at the fair lets an early player on one of those unwinnable-by-design games "win" the giant teddy bear, knowing that that customer will carry it around all night, inadvertently advertising the game to everyone else. The viral video maker thinks that a million people just loved that nutty dance and doesn't even realize that she or he is a tool, carrying the giant teddy bear around.

How do the companies get away with telling us one thing and doing something else? Because they change the rules whenever they like, Doctorow said. There are no rules about how they can change the rules.

Huzaifa abedeen via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0

And don't even get me started on the plethora of legal mechanisms that protect this monstrous Big Tech monopolization. Dare to start asking questions, and you'll find yourself on the business end of demand letters citing the DMCA, the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, and patent and trademark law, just to get the ball rolling.

Yes, I realize that I am writing on a Google platform right now. What's a writer to do? I confess, I made a conscious decision at one point simply to surrender to Google. I have a Nest doorbell, a Pixel phone, and a Google Drive. But, you see, this is what Doctorow is talking about. It's next to impossible to get along in the virtual world today without surrendering.  Try buying diapers from Diapers.com instead of Amazon.

Doctorow is a big fan of Lina Khan and the example she's setting with the Federal Trade Commission's sudden scrutiny of the tech sector. Unfortunately, Doctorow said, it's easier to stop monopoly from happening than to dismantle it after it's taken hold. If you're my age, you'll remember how long AT&T reigned supreme before the feds came a-knockin'. Better late than never. I'll be interested to see if Khan-ology persists, or corporate power in Washington is now too big to break.

The podcast is How Big Tech Went to Sh*t, from WNYC's On the Media (Sept. 1, 2023).

Court rejects qui tam suit against big banks because whistleblower relied on publicly available data

"Big Ballin' Money Shot" by Louish Pixel CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

A whistleblower alleged that a who's who of big banks is improperly manipulating the municipal bond market to profit at the expense of Massachusetts taxpayers.  But the Massachusetts high court today rejected the whistleblower's lawsuit because he relied on public data.

This case is of interest because it arises under, and narrows, a state false claims act.  With the federal government doling out billions of dollars in pandemic relief to corporate America, I've predicted, and it doesn't take a crystal ball, that we're going to see a rise in corruption and a corresponding rise in enforcement actions.  One key enforcement mechanism is a false claims act.  In anticipation of good work to be had for lawyers in the false claims vein in coming years, I added the subject this spring to coverage in my 1L Torts II class.

False claims cases, or "qui tam actions," allow any person, a member of the general public called "a relator," to bring a lawsuit on behalf of the government, that is, the public, to recover money lost to fraud or misfeasance.  Derived conceptually from Roman law and carried on in Anglo-American common law for centuries, "qui tam" is short for a Latin phrase meaning one who sues on behalf of the king and for oneself.  Relators are incentivized by being entitled to a cut of any recovery.  Qui tam is authorized in the United States by federal law (§§ 3729-3722, and at DOJ) and the laws of many states (at Mass. AG), varying in their particulars, and also can be a part of sectoral enforcement mechanisms, especially in healthcare and finance.

In the instant case, relator "B.J." Johan Rosenberg, an investment analyst and capital adviser with experience in municipal securities, alleged that banks are pricing municipal bonds and manipulating the market in ways that profitably breach their obligations to their public clients.  Defendants in the Massachusetts case include Chase, Citi, Bank of America, Merrill Lynch, and Morgan Stanley.

The Supreme Judicial Court (SJC) dug into the particulars, which make my eyes glaze over and remind me why I have a financial adviser.  Suffice to say that Rosenberg understands this stuff well.  In 2019, Bloomberg described him as the "mystery man behind $3.6 billion in muni lawsuits," referring to qui tam actions in California, Illinois, and Massachusetts.  In 2015, Bloomberg reported, Rosenberg patented "MuniPriceTracker," a software designed to "ferret out Wall Street chicanery."

"If we're going to have software patents, let's at least have a level playing field"

by Opensource.com CC BY-SA 2.0

Rosenberg's analytical software is key in the instant case, and there the problem arises.  The false claims act in Massachusetts law (§§ 5A to 5O), as in federal law, bars claims based on publicly available information, whether from government reports or "news media."  The theory is that a qui tam statute should incentivize whistle-blowing by persons privy to information that the government and public are not, rather than potentially rewarding someone who rushes to the courthouse with old information.  As the SJC put it: "Where the essential features of an individual's purported chicanery already have been illuminated, ... affording a private party an incentive to bring suit is unwarranted, as it would add nothing to the Commonwealth's knowledge[.]"

The tricky bit in the instant case is that Rosenberg ran his software analysis on publicly available data.  That sourcing disallowed his action.  The court reasoned: "[I]t suffices that other members of the public, albeit with sufficient expertise and after having conducted some analysis, could have identified the true state of affairs by conducting the same data-crunching exercise as did the relator, using the data publicly available on the [Electronic Municipal Market Access] website."

Well, maybe.  To me, the phrase, "with sufficient expertise" is working overtime in that reasoning.  Rosenberg's method is sophisticated enough to be patent-worthy.  I don't think the average taxpayer spends weekends crunching market numbers, however publicly available they are.  And there's no evidence that anyone's doing it at the AG's office, either.  I worry that this narrowing of false claims to exclude "sweat of the brow" extrapolation from public records ill equips society to respond to sophisticated corporate malfeasance that can be revealed only by equally sophisticated detective work.

But I've already confessed my ignorance of finance.  You can read the 36-page opinion and decide for yourself.  Or choose among the views of the amici: the CFA Institute and Taxpayers Against Fraud Education Fund supported Rosenberg, and the Greater Boston Chamber of Commerce and New England Legal Foundation supported the banks.

The case is Rosenberg v. JPMorgan Chase & Co., No. SJC-12973 (Mass. May 11, 2020).  Justice Dalila Wendlandt wrote the opinion, affirming the lower court, for a unanimous SJC of six justices.  She was an accomplished patent attorney before going on the bench.

Design Patent Infringement Needs a Free Expression Defense / La infracción de patentes de diseño necesita una defensa de libre expresión

From 2017:1 Juriste International magazine, available online now from the Union Internationale des Avocats.  Download issue 2017-1 here and find the whole article at page 44. Download the full research article on this subject here.

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Design Patent Infringement Needs a Free Expression Defense
/La infracción de patentes de diseño necesita una defensa de libre expresión 

Richard J. Peltz-Steele & Ralph D. Clifford

As elsewhere in the world, design patents are propagating copiously in U.S. intellectual property law. Notwithstanding their fertility, design patents face potentially prohibitive and as yet unexplored legal challenges. One possibility is that the U.S. Congress might lack the very power to authorize design patents. Another possibility – our subject here, with implications for design patents in Europe and around the world – is that design patents violate fundamental rights if there is not a defense to infringement founded in the freedom of expression.

Las patentes de diseño se propagan en abundancia en el derecho de la propiedad intelectual. Mientras tanto, las patentes de diseño enfrentan desafíos legales aún inexplorados. Enfocándose en la ley estadounidense, este artículo postula que las patentes de diseño violan los derechos fundamentales si no hay una defensa a la infracción fundada en la libertad de expresión. Diseño es único entre las patentes debido a su capacidad expresiva. Por lo tanto, debe acomodarse a la libertad de expresión con defensa de uso o trato justo, comparable a la ley de los derechos de autor.