Categories
Antitrust Patents

Jonathan Barnett on Competition Regulators and Standard-Essential Patents

The following post comes from Connor Sherman, a 2L at Scalia Law and a Research Assistant at CPIP.

circuit boardBy Connor Sherman

The field of intellectual property (IP) can sometimes be wrong in its approach towards promoting economic health, especially when that approach overlaps with antitrust law. An example of this is laid out in a new article by CPIP Senior Fellow for Innovation Policy Jonathan Barnett at Competition Policy International’s Antitrust Chronical entitled How and Why Almost Every Competition Regulator Was Wrong About Standard-Essential Patents. In the article, Prof. Barnett explains how antitrust regulators discourage investment and limit innovation when they take enforcement actions without first gathering rigorous evidence of market harm.

A standard-essential patent (SEP) is a core innovation that entire industries build upon—in other words, an innovation that is necessary to include in a product in order to comply with an industry specific standard. A business cannot just slap Wi-Fi or Bluetooth onto its new smart lightbulb without including the functions associated with those standards. This protects consumers from false advertising, but it also protects the goodwill or quality assured by those standards.

For many years, the consensus among academics, courts, and general opinion has been that the owners of these SEPs will, if given the chance, engage in a form of economic harm called a “patent holdup.” As used in the article, a holdup can be understood as raising the cost of using a patent once it has been identified as a standard innovation. In response to this consensus, regulators have attempted to use antitrust law to prevent patent holdup from occurring.

However, Prof. Barnett encourages skepticism of this premise for several reasons. Most prominently, claims of patent holdup often will fail to meet the basic antitrust injury standard of causing competitive harm. In fact, more often than not, legal issues relating to the licensing of SEPs are resolved under exactly the fields of law one would expect—that is, under patent law with regard to the validity of the patent and under contract law with regard to the validity of the licensing agreement. Another reason presented by Prof. Barnett is the lack of empirical evidence of the expected harm to justify the intervention. Without sound evidence of anticompetitive harm, it makes little sense to employ policies aimed at preventing the nonexistent harm from occurring.

Both the 1995 and 2017 Antitrust Guidelines, issued by the Department of Justice and the Federal Trade Commission, view IP licensing as having procompetitive effects, yet the actions of regulatory agencies have been inconsistent with that understanding. Prof. Barnett states that the rush to include antitrust considerations may reflect an ongoing failure to appreciate the functionality of patent licensing agreements. After all, if a patented innovation demonstrably harms competition in an already established industry, one can presume that the innovation was either so obvious as to be improperly issued or so revolutionary as to deserve the benefits provided by the patent. In the former situation, that patent will likely be invalidated, and in the latter, the patent owner deserves the reward for creating a useful innovation.

Prof. Barnett states that a strong indictment of the current policy is reflected in the Ninth Circuit’s opinion in FTC v. Qualcomm, which overturned the lower court’s imposition of an antitrust penalty based on an erroneous view of SEPs. The lower court’s position was that Qualcomm would continue to invest in innovation under the same licensing-based business model while receiving lower rewards. Prof. Barnett argues that the more likely outcome would have been for Qualcomm to begin vertical integration, freeing it from the duty to deal with obligations of antitrust law. He then explains that the hypothetical harm of patent holdup would be minor compared to the harm that would occur from encouraging the consolidation of businesses around closely guarded, industry-changing innovations.

Prof. Barnett reasons that where patents are weak and antitrust laws are strict, the monetization structure of firms will be internal—even if funding for innovations remains robust. In the inverse situation, however, the range of feasible monetization structures are expanded to include third party firms. Thus, Prof. Barnett argues that in such a situation, an IP owner will be encouraged to license out its patents to all interested users at a modest rate in order to encourage widespread adoption of the invention.

It remains to be settled whether the long-held skepticism of SEP licensing is counterproductive, as Prof. Barnett claims. However, if Prof. Barnett is correct, this period of SEP uncertainty will perhaps provide an excellent lesson about enacting antitrust policy without the empirical evidence to back it up.

Categories
Biotech Patent Law

Forty Years Since Diamond v. Chakrabarty: Legal Underpinnings and its Impact on the Biotechnology Industry and Society

U.S. Supreme Court buildingCPIP has published a new policy brief celebrating the fortieth anniversary of the Diamond v. Chakrabarty decision, where the Supreme Court in 1980 held that a genetically modified bacteria was patentable subject matter. The brief, entitled Forty Years Since Diamond v. Chakrabarty: Legal Underpinnings and its Impact on the Biotechnology Industry and Society and written by Matthew Jordan, Neil Davey, Maheshkumar P. Joshi, and Raj Davé, is dedicated to the late Dr. Ananda Chakrabarty, a pioneer in the biotechnology world, who passed away in July 2020.

Chakrabarty had a great impact on the biotechnology revolution, ushering in a new era of technological advances that have benefited humankind. Through interviews with Randall Rader, former Chief Judge of the Federal Circuit, and Dr. Chakrabarty himself, as well as case studies on genetically modified seeds, polymerase chain reactions, and monoclonal antibody therapies, the policy brief explores the importance and enduring implications for society of the Chakrabarty decision.

The introduction and conclusion sections are copied below:

***

I. Introduction: The Diamond v. Chakrabarty (1980) Supreme Court Decision

In 1972, Ananda Chakrabarty—a genetic engineer at General Electric—filed a patent application for genetically modified bacteria capable of breaking down crude oil. Dr. Chakrabarty introduced genetic fragments into the Pseudomonas bacterium, altering the bacteria to decompose hydrocarbon components of crude oil. Dr. Chakrabarty intended the bacteria to assist in cleaning up oil spills. The engineered bacteria were especially suited for bioremediation given their resistance to adverse environments and safety as a non-pathogen.

The examiner rejected the application under Section 101 of the Patent Act, which covers patentable subject matter, because living things were not patentable. The Board of Patent Appeals and Interferences (now known as the Patent Trial and Appeal Board) affirmed the examiner’s decision, however, the U.S. Court of Customs and Patent Appeals (now part of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit) sided with Dr. Chakrabarty. The Court of Customs, in an opinion by Judge Giles Rich, reasoned that only naturally occurring articles, not all living things, were ineligible for patenting. Importantly, the court said, “the fact that microorganisms are alive is a distinction without legal significance” for purposes of the patent law. Then, U.S. Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO) Commissioner Sidney Diamond appealed the case to the Supreme Court.

The Supreme Court of the United States held that Dr. Chakrabarty’s invention consisted of patentable subject matter. Section 101 states: “Whoever invents or discovers any new and useful process, machine, manufacture, or composition of matter, or any new and useful improvement thereof, may obtain a patent therefor, subject to the conditions and requirements of this title.” The Court ruled in a landmark 5-4 decision that Dr. Chakrabarty’s invention was a patentable, manmade, “composition of matter” or “manufacture.” Chief Justice Warren Burger famously quoted a Senate Report that was part of the legislative history for the Patent Act of 1952: patentable subject matter included “anything under the sun that is made by man.”

This decision had immense implications for biotechnology. It resulted in patents for genetically modified seeds, DNA amplification technology, and monoclonal antibody therapy. The rise of biotechnology has impacted many technological fields and society as a whole. The Supreme Court’s distinction between manmade and naturally occurring phenomena was clarified in Mayo v. Prometheus and AMP v. Myriad. The Court found that naturally occurring biological relationships and isolated DNA sequences were not eligible for patenting.

***

V. Conclusion

Diamond v. Chakrabarty revolutionized the biotechnology industry in the United States by incentivizing the advancement of inventions that are beneficial to human life. However, as noted by Judge Randall Rader: “This whole patent eligibility question—which was so clear and well-defined, was practically implementable and understandable, and gave life to our whole biotech industry after Chakrabarty—now has had a heavy cloud cast over it in recent jurisprudence such as Myriad.”

When asked if our legislature should take action to clear up the confusion, Judge Rader stated: “If the statute was the written law that was being interpreted by the Supreme Court, we wouldn’t need legislative change. But the sad truth is that the Supreme Court has created a whole overlay of doctrine that makes the statute almost irrelevant. And now we don’t look at whether there’s a process, a machine, an article of manufacture, or a composition of matter. Instead, we look at whether there’s something more beyond the conventional and the routine and the well-known. We argue over what is something and what is more, and what is an inventive concept. And so in that state of confusion, yes, we’re probably going to need legislation.”

Within the dire context of the COVID-19 pandemic and other countries racing past the United States in biotechnology, it is crucial for Congress to clarify what currently qualifies as patentable subject matter.

***

To read the policy brief, please click here.

Categories
Patent Law

Professor Tabrez Ebrahim on Artificial Intelligence Inventions

The following post comes from Associate Professor of Law Tabrez Ebrahim of California Western School of Law in San Diego, California.

a pair of glasses, an apple, and a stack of booksBy Tabrez Ebrahim

Artificial intelligence (AI) is a major concern to the United States Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO), for patent theory and policy, and for society. The USPTO requested comments from stakeholders about AI and released a report titled “Public Views on Artificial Intelligence and Intellectual Property Policy.” Patent law scholars have written about AI’s impact on inventorship and non-obviousness, and they have acknowledged that the patent system is vital for the development and use of AI. However, there is prevailing gap and understudied phenomenon of AI on patent disclosure. The Center for Protection for Intellectual Property (CPIP) supported my research in this vein through the Thomas Edison Innovation Fellowship.

In my new paper, Artificial Intelligence Inventions & Patent Disclosure, I claim that AI fundamentally challenges disclosure in patent law, which has not kept up with rapid advancements in AI, and I seek to invigorate the goals that patent law’s disclosure function is thought to serve for society. In so doing, I assess the role that AI plays in the inventive process, how AI can produce AI-generated output (that can be claimed in a patent application), and why it should matter for patent policy and for society. I introduce a taxonomy comprising AI-based tools and AI-generated output that I map with social-policy-related considerations, theoretical justifications and normative reasoning concerning disclosure for the use of AI in the inventive process, and proposals for enhancing disclosure and the impact on patent protection and trade secrecy.

AI refers to mathematical and statistical inference techniques that identify correlations within datasets to imitate decision making. An AI-based invention can be either: (1) an invention that is produced by AI; (2) an invention that applies AI to other fields; (3) an invention that embodies an advancement in the field of AI; or (4) some combination of the aforementioned. I focus on the first of these concerning the use of AI (what I term an “AI-based tool”) to produce output to be claimed as an invention in a patent application (what I term “AI-generated output”).

The use of AI in patent applications presents capabilities that were not envisioned for the U.S. patent system and allows for inventions based on AI-generated output that appear as if they were invented by a human. Inventors may not disclose the use of AI to the USPTO, but even if they were to do so, the lack of transparency and difficulty in replication with the use of AI presents challenges to the U.S. patent system and for the USPTO.

As a result of the use of AI-based tools in the inventive process, inventions may be fictitious or imaginary, but appear as if they had been created by humans (such as in the physical world) and still meet the enablement and written descriptions requirements. These inventions may be considered as being either imaginary, never-achieved, or unworkable to the inventor, but may appear as if they were created, tested, or made workable to reasonable onlookers or to patent examiners.

The current standard for disclosure in patent law is the same for an invention produced by the use of AI as any invention generated by a human being without the use of AI. However, the use of AI in the inventive process should necessitate a reevaluation of patent law’s disclosure function because: (1) AI can produce a volume of such fictitious or imaginary patent applications (that meet enablement and written descriptions requirements) that would stress the USPTO and the patent system; and (2) advanced AI in the form of deep learning, which is not well understood (due to hidden layers with weights that evolve) may insufficiently describe the making and using of the invention (even with disclosure of diagrams showing a representation of the utilized AI).

Such AI capabilities challenge the current purposes of patent law, and require assessing and answering the following questions for societal reasons: Should patent law embrace the unreal fictitious and imaginary AI-generated output, and if so how can the unreal be detected in patent examination from disclosure of that created by a human? Should inventors be required to disclose the use of AI in the inventive process, and should it matter for society?

Patents are conditioned on inventors describing their inventions, and patent law’s enablement doctrine focuses on the particular result of the invention process. While patent doctrine focuses on the end state and not the tool used in the process of inventing, in contrast, I argue that the use of AI in inventing profoundly and fundamentally challenges disclosure theory in patent law.

AI transforms inventing for two reasons that address the aforementioned reasons for reevaluation of patent law’s disclosure function: (1) The use of an AI-based tool in the invention process can make it appear as if the AI-generated output was produced by a human, when in fact, it was not so; and (2) even if an inventor disclosed the use of an AI-based tool, others may not be able to make or use the invention since the AI-based tool’s operation may not be transparent and replicable. These complexities require enhancing the disclosure requirement, and in so doing, present patent and trade secret considerations for society and for inventors.

The USPTO cannot reasonably expect patent examiners to confirm whether the patent application is for an invention that is fictitious or unexplainable in an era of increasing use of AI-based tools in the inventive process, and heightened disclosure provides a better verification mechanism for society. I argue that enhanced patent disclosure for AI has an important role to play in equilibrating an appropriate level of quid pro quo.

While there are trade-offs to explaining how the applied AI-based tools develop AI-generated output, I argue for: (1) a range of incentive options for enhanced AI patent disclosure, and (2) establishing a data deposit requirement as an alternative disclosure. My article’s theoretical contributions define a framework for subsequent empirical verification of whether an inventor will opt for trade secrecy or patent protection when there is use of AI-based tools in the inventive process, and if so, for which aspects of the invention.

There are a plethora of issues that the patent system and the USPTO should consider as inventors continue to use AI, and consideration should be given to disclosure as AI technology develops and is used even more in the inventive process.

Categories
Innovation Patent Law

New CPIP Policy Brief: The Long Shadow of the Blackberry Shutdown That Wasn’t

CPIP logoCPIP has published a new policy brief by CPIP Senior Fellow for Innovation Policy Jonathan Barnett entitled The Long Shadow of the Blackberry Shutdown That Wasn’t. The policy brief looks at how the Blackberry litigation and the “patent troll” narrative ultimately contributed to the Supreme Court’s 2006 decision in eBay v. MercExchange that limited the availability of injunctive relief for successful patentees.

Professor Barnett then examines the problematic legacy of the post-eBay case law, which significantly shifted the legal infrastructure supporting the U.S. innovation markets. In particular, he explains how this shift has led to opportunistic infringement that favors downstream incumbents with the resources to fund extensive litigation at the expense of upstream innovators—a dynamic that is exemplified in the recent litigation between Sonos and Google.

The introduction is copied below:

Introduction

In early 2006, there was widespread public interest in a seemingly arcane patent infringement litigation brought by a small IP licensing entity, NTP, Inc., against Research in Motion (or “RIM”), the maker of the then-ubiquitous Blackberry mobile communications device. The reason: NTP alleged that the Blackberry device and service infringed upon its patents relating to wireless email communications. In the district court litigation, NTP had secured a judgment of willful patent infringement against RIM, entitling NTP to treble damages, attorneys’ fees, and a permanent injunction (stayed pending appeal) that placed at risk the continued operation of the Blackberry service.

Given NTP’s success at the district court, and uncertainty surrounding RIM’s ability to design a non-infringing alternative, there seemed to be a material risk that the appeals court would sustain the lower court’s rulings and, most importantly, the injunction order. Faced with this predicament, RIM settled all claims with NTP in March 2006 for the impressive sum of $612.5 million.

In this contribution, I revisit the almost 15-year-old Blackberry litigation and its connection with both the Supreme Court’s 2006 decision in eBay, Inc. v. MercExchange LLC, which limited patent owners’ ability to secure injunctions, and ongoing infringement litigation (commenced in January 2020) involving Google and Sonos, a leading innovator and supplier of wireless audio systems. While the eBay decision may have deterred certain opportunistic uses of patent infringement litigation, there are growing indications that it has had a significant adverse effect on the innovation ecosystem.

As illustrated by the Google/Sonos litigation, eBay and post-eBay case law has enabled incumbents that maintain key technology platforms and distribution pathways to infringe upon patent-protected technologies held by others at relatively modest legal and business risk. The increasing normalization of patent infringement as a rational business strategy endangers the property-rights infrastructure behind important segments of the U.S. innovation economy.

To read the policy brief, please click here.

Categories
Biotech Patents

(Patented) Life Begins at Forty: CPIP Celebrates the Ongoing Legacy of Diamond v. Chakrabarty

The following post comes from Colin Kreutzer, a rising 2E at Scalia Law and a Research Assistant at CPIP.

gloved hand assembling or dissembling a model of DNABy Colin Kreutzer

It’s been forty years since the Supreme Court ruled in favor of patentability for a GE scientist and the oil-eating bacterium he’d created, greatly expanding the scope of living matter that was eligible to be patented. Previously, patents on living things were limited to botanical inventions such as novel plant varieties, but the Court in Diamond v. Chakrabarty opened the door to genetically modified living matter. Writing for the majority, Chief Justice Burger held that because the bacteria were human-made and did not exist in nature, they fell under both the “manufacture” and “composition of matter” categories of invention per 35 U.S.C. § 101. The promise of IP protection for engineered microbial life gave a secure path to returns on investments, and it opened the floodgates to R&D in everything from life-saving drugs and cancer-screening tests, to Flavr Savr tomatoes and crop yields that promised to keep pace with a growing human population. The impact of this decision on biotech and related industries cannot be overstated.

But the legacy of Chakrabarty is still going strong. On Wednesday, June 17, CPIP and the Smithsonian’s Lemelson Center for the Study of Invention and Innovation jointly hosted a panel of experts to discuss the landmark ruling. Moderated by Lemelson Director Arthur Daemmrich and with closing remarks by CPIP Executive Director Sean O’Connor, the panel featured: Dan Charles, science writer, National Public Radio food and agriculture correspondent; Daniel Kevles, Stanley Woodward Professor Emeritus of History, History of Medicine & American Studies, Yale University; Jennie Schmidt, farmer, registered dietitian nutritionist, and blogger at The Foodie Farmer; and the inventor, Dr. Ananda Chakrabarty, now a distinguished professor of microbiology and immunology at the University of Illinois College of Medicine. The panel reflected on how the ruling in Chakrabarty has affected intellectual property and the biotech industry, and some of the issues that leave room for improvement. See the full video here.

History

In the early 1970s, Dr. Chakrabarty was working with several strains of naturally occurring Pseudomonas bacteria, known for their potential in cleaning oil spills. Each strain was able to break down one of the various hydrocarbon types found within crude oil. In theory, combining them could break down all the major components of an oil spill and convert them into benign materials, such as food for aquatic life. But there was a problem: simply mixing different bacterial strains did not achieve a complete oil consumption profile. Some strains would dominate the mixture because every strain thrived under slightly different environmental conditions, and much of the oil would be untouched.

Dr. Chakrabarty determined that the key elements in each bacterium were sets of extra DNA called plasmids. Each bacterial strain had different plasmids that would break down different hydrocarbons. He used a UV radiation technique to transfer plasmids from one strain to another until he had a single bacterial strain with a preferred set of plasmids. This unified strain could consume a wide hydrocarbon profile without developing a plasmid imbalance. The end product was distinct from any naturally occurring bacterium, and GE filed a patent application for the invention on June 7, 1972.

The USPTO examiner allowed some of the patent claims: namely, a method of producing the bacteria; along with, an inoculum having the bacteria as one component. But claims directed solely to the bacterium were rejected on the grounds that 35 U.S.C. § 101 does not allow pure living matter to be patented. Protections for plants, while alive, are granted under different statutes: the 1930 Plant Patent Act deals with asexually-reproduced novel plants, and the 1970 Plant Variety Protection Act grants similar rights on other selectively bred species. Following affirmation at the BPAI and a reversal at the Court of Customs and Patent Appeals, the Supreme Court granted certiorari. It heard the case on March 17, 1980, and issued an opinion on June 16, 1980.

Chief Justice Burger took issue with the Patent Office’s arguments that Congress, in drafting § 101, never gave express authorization to patent living things, and he didn’t see the plant exceptions as evidence that it never intended to. He countered that Congress had deliberately created a very expansive scope in § 101, and the Court was obliged to interpret it that way. The language was as clear as it was broad, and if the judiciary were going too far in its interpretation, the legislature would be free to correct the mistake. Further arguments, directed to the existential perils of genetic engineering, were met with similar skepticism.

Ultimately, the Chief Justice settled the argument in rather simple terms: that § 101 broadly covers a process, machine, manufacture, composition of matter, or collectively, “anything under the sun that is made by man.” Since Dr. Chakrabarty’s work fell within those boundaries, the subject matter was patent eligible­—living or not.

Microbial Research

Dr. Chakrabarty and Daniel Kevles kicked off the discussion with a review of the scientific and legal history of the case. There was broad agreement among panelists that for microbial research, medicine, and the pharmaceutical industry, the ruling was a game-changer. Forty years ago, USPTO officials weren’t the only ones who believed that microbial lifeforms couldn’t be patented. Prof. Kevles, recounting a prior conversation with Dr. Chakrabarty, wondered if GE’s “patent everything” attitude and relative lack of biotech experience made it more willing to even attempt such a thing in an industry where many assumed it wasn’t allowed. Prof. Kevles also pointed to the precedential effect on contemporary developments, such as Stanford’s Cohen-Boyer recombinant DNA patents, which weren’t granted until after the Chakrabarty decision. And while the nation used the ruling to fuel an emerging industry, Dr. Chakrabarty (then a university professor) expanded his Pseudomonas research into treatments of cystic fibrosis and cancer cells.

Agriculture

Discussions of the state of agriculture were more mixed. Jennie Schmidt began with a big thanks for including a farmer’s voice on the panel. She spoke about several advancements that genetic engineering has brought to agriculture, and how they factored into her family business’ comprehensive farming approach, which include conventional and organic farming along with biotech. The adoption of biotech seeds has spread far more rapidly than the previous technological leap of hybridization in the 1920s and 1930s, and she deemed it essential to the survival of family farms in modern America. Biotech seeds are more resistant to herbicides, allow for the use of softer chemicals, and are better suited to no-till practices. Tillage, Ms. Schmidt noted, was a major cause of erosion and loss of sediment, phosphorus, and other nutrients to the nearby Chesapeake Bay. She also mentioned engineered products such as Bt-corn, which can reduce the need for pesticides that kill far more species than they target.

Dan Charles expressed concerns about the number of useable innovations in agriculture, compared to what had been promised in exchange for the added intrusion of corporate control into farming. He questioned how transformative GMOs have truly been by boiling the developments down to two major traits—herbicide resistance and pest resistance—and noting that pests already appear to be overcoming the latter. National Academy of Sciences studies, he said, had failed to identify any major difference in the crop yield trends between the pre- and post-GMO eras (likely referencing this study; see for example the summary at p.14).

Prof. Kevles conceded that he’d rather see more developments focused on increasing the vitamin and nutrient content of crops, rather than on sheer yields. To date, the bulk of the technological benefits have gone to reducing costs rather than to increasing consumer health. But he tempered this observation by putting it into the greater context of all genetic applications and emphasized the unquestionable impact that the Chakrabarty decision had on technology as a whole.

Ms. Schmidt also acknowledged Mr. Charles’s concerns and felt that things might be very different if the first GMO breakthroughs had been consumer-facing, rather than farm-facing, developments. She noted that IP issues have affected traditional farming practices such as seed saving, but she added that proprietary issues span the range of farming technologies and are not limited to biotech. She also pointed out that IP isn’t the only reason that seed-saving is a threatened practice: hybrid seeds, a long-established technology, are generally unsuitable for saving regardless of whether farmers may legally do so. Her farm still practices seed-saving when possible.

Mr. Charles agreed that the proprietary issues extend beyond biotech, and indeed pose problems for researchers wishing to access to the latest generation of seed technology, even for scholarly purposes. Further, he noted that decreasing access has led to problems of international agricultural cooperation.

On the subject of international issues, Dr. Chakrabarty stressed the importance of IP to developing countries in bringing their products to the market. He has been active for many years in advancing both biotech and IP as a means for less-developed nations to build wealth.

The State of R&D, Post-Chakrabarty

Another avenue of the discussion centered on the state of R&D then and now, in terms of large corporate laboratories versus the multitude of start-ups we often see today. Prof. Kevles was quick to point out that there is still a lot of research coming from the big firms, not only in chemistry and biotech, but also in the worlds of information technology and others. As far as the emergence of start-ups was concerned, credit also went appropriately to the Bayh-Dole Act. This helped universities retain IP rights to inventions that came from federally funded research and stimulated further growth of university tech transfer offices. The Chakrabarty decision and Bayh-Dole are both credited as significant events in the strengthening of America’s IP system.

Closing

Prof. O’Connor concluded with an in-depth explanation of the legal and scientific theories that separated the Chakrabarty decision from plant patents. He also addressed some of the fears that arise when discussing property rights on genetically engineered lifeforms. He emphasized that patent laws don’t grant the right to make or use something, but rather the right to exclude others from making or using it. As such, patent law can easily be superseded by other laws, such as those barring indentured servitude or the ownership of “all or part” of a human being. A more common example came from pharmaceuticals—a patent on a new drug is no good if the FDA won’t approve it.

Dr. Chakrabarty knows these problems all too well. Attendees asked him why his invention, the subject of the landmark ruling, didn’t itself go to market. It seems that IP wasn’t the only legal hurdle standing in the way of commercialization. Regulators were fearful of what might happen to the natural order if genetically modified bacteria were introduced into the ocean. Without sufficient data to prove that, for example, the engineered traits wouldn’t be acquired by harmful pathogens, they were unwilling to let it go forward.

The panel closed with a virtual exhibit presented by Smithsonian curator Peter Liebhold. He took panelists and attendees on a walk through the history of agricultural and genetic research, using a series of photos and artifacts that would have been shown in-person if COVID-19 hadn’t moved the program online. Hopefully, the biotech world, buoyed by a strong IP framework, will soon develop vaccines and treatments that can get us all back to normal.

The Chakrabarty case is a prime example of the vital role IP protection plays in fostering innovation and growth. It also serves as a reminder of why Congress intentionally granted such an expansive scope in 35 U.S.C. § 101: because it knew it wouldn’t be possible to envision the technology of the future, and it declined to stand in the way of whatever strange new wonders awaited the human imagination. CPIP is thrilled to have shared the stage with the Lemelson Center and the distinguished panelists as we observed the 40th birthday of this landmark ruling, and we wish to give a special thanks to Dr. Chakrabarty for joining us.

Categories
Antitrust Biotech Patents Pharma

Recent Developments in the Life Sciences: The Continuing Assault on Innovation by Antitrust Plaintiffs in Lantus

By Erika Lietzan

dictionary entry for the word "innovate"In February, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the First Circuit held, in a direct purchaser antitrust action, that an innovative pharmaceutical company marketing an injectable drug product had “improperly listed” in FDA’s Orange Book a patent claiming a mechanism used in the drug’s delivery device. As I explain below, the ruling creates the specter of antitrust liability for steps taken in good faith to comply with a complex regulatory framework that overlaps in part with patent law. I explain below how the ruling puts biopharmaceutical innovators in a tough spot.

First, the legal framework.

Federal law requires each company that submits a new drug application to identify the patents that claim the drug or a method of using the drug (if a claim of patent infringement could reasonably be asserted against someone who made, used, or sold the drug without a license). The application cannot be approved, if the company fails to submit the required information on a patent that satisfies the listing standard. (See section 505(d)(6) of the drug statute, here.) FDA publishes the patent numbers and expiration dates in the “Orange Book,” which takes the form of a PDF and electronic database.

Federal law also requires a generic drug applicant to take a position with respect to every patent that claims the drug or a method of using the drug — effectively, every patent listed in the Orange Book. For every unexpired patent, the generic applicant has two choices, which dictate when its application can be approved. (There’s a third option for a patent claiming a method of using the drug, which isn’t relevant here.)

It can choose to wait for patent expiry, which means filing a “paragraph 3 certification.” In this scenario, FDA cannot approve its generic drug for market entry until expiry of the patent.

Or it can say that it plans to market right away, because its product doesn’t infringe the patent or because it thinks the patent invalid, which means filing a “paragraph 4 certification.” In this scenario, it must notify the innovator (and patent owner, if different). (I’ll just say “innovator,” going forward.) As far as this patent is concerned, FDA can approve the generic drug for market entry as soon as its review is complete and assuming the generic drug is otherwise approvable with one important exception. If the patent was listed before the generic drug company submitted its application, and if the innovator files a patent infringement suit within 45 days of receiving notice, then final approval of the generic application is stayed for 30 months or until a district court ruling in the generic company’s favor (whichever happens first). The paragraph 4 certification is considered an act of infringement, which creates federal court jurisdiction.

The patent listing mechanism is intended to facilitate litigation of patent issues before market entry, which both industries wanted. The generic companies wanted a way to litigate these issues before launching, for example, because doing so avoids the risk of damages (for more information, see my article on the history and political economy of the legislation). The scheme encourages generic companies to participate by offering 180-day exclusivity in the market for the first to file a (true) generic application with paragraph 4 certification, and it encourages innovators to participate by offering the 30-month stay that makes it possible for the patent to be litigated before the generic drug launches.

These rules apply to companies that file true generic applications, for exact copies of the innovator’s drug. And with one exception they also apply to companies that file a different type kind of abbreviated application known as a 505(b)(2) application. The distinction between the types of application isn’t critical here. The one exception is that companies filing 505(b)(2) applications with paragraph 4 certifications aren’t eligible for 180-day exclusivity.

Second, applying the framework to combination products in particular.

The listing standard — “any patent which claims the drug for which the applicant submitted the application or which claims a method of using such” — has proved vexing to interpret.

In 1994, FDA published its first regulation interpreting this provision, stating that it meant “drug substance (ingredient) patents, drug product (formulation and composition) patents, and method of use patents,” but not “process patents.” But there have been questions about a variety of patent types over the years, and in 2003 — responding in part to requests for elaboration — the agency revised its regulations to provide more details about what it required to be listed and what was not to be listed.

At issue here: what to do with combination products. These products combine two regulated components, such as a device and a drug. Two discrete products packaged together for use together are, together, considered a “combination product.” But the phrase also means a single finished product that comprises two regulated components — thus a drug and device produced as a single entity. Combination products thus include prefilled drug delivery devices — such as a prefilled drug syringe, an auto-injector, or an metered dose inhaler (see here).

The question is whether the statute requires companies to list patents associated with the device component of these products.

FDA considered this in the 2003 rulemaking. The final regulation is 21 C.F.R. § 314.53, but the agency’s explanation of the regulation in the Federal Register — which has the formal status of an “advisory opinion” — is just as important.

The agency decided that “patents claiming a package or container must not be submitted.” Packaging and containers are “distinct from the drug product.”

Several commenters also argued that patents claiming devices that are “integral” to the drug product or require approval should be listed. FDA offered what it labeled as a “response.” The agency didn’t write that these patents “should” be listed, or that they “should not” be listed. Instead it said that a “drug product” is the drug in its “finished dosage form” — meaning the form administered to patients. And, it added, the current list of “dosage forms for approved products” — which appears in an appendix to the Orange Book — includes “aerosols, capsules, metered sprays, gels, and pre-filled drug delivery systems.” Elsewhere it wrote that a patent claiming the finished dosage form “must be submitted for listing.”

Now, the litigation and First Circuit ruling.

Sanofi-Aventis holds the approved marketing application for Lantus (insulin glargine recombinant), a long-acting human insulin analog used in treating diabetes. At first the company sold Lantus in multiple dose vials and in cartridges for use with a (separate) insulin delivery device. In 2007, however, FDA approved a supplemental application for sale of Lantus in a single-patient-use prefilled injector pen.

Sanofi has listed several patents in connection with Lantus. In connection with the prefilled pen, the company listed U.S. Patent No. 8,556,864 (drive mechanisms suitable for use in drug delivery devices), which issued in October 2013 and expires in March 2024. The parties agree that the ’864 patent claims the drive mechanism used in the Lantus pens, and FDA would not have approved the prefilled pens without a showing that the pen (including the drive mechanism) ensures patients safely receive accurate doses. But — and this turned out to be critical in the end — the patent doesn’t mention insulin glargine. Nevertheless, according to the agency, an insulin injector pen is a prefilled drug delivery system. And this makes it a dosage form. And patents claiming dosage forms must be listed.

In 2013, Eli Lilly submitted a 505(b)(2) application for a copy of Lantus, which it planned to market as Basaglar. It included a paragraph 4 certification to the ’864 patent and to various other patents as well. Sanofi brought suit. The case settled on the morning trial was scheduled to begin, with Lilly agreeing to pay for a license to launch in December 2016, seven years before patent expiry.

The plaintiffs in this antitrust litigation are drug wholesalers. They claim, among other things, that Sanofi improperly listed the ’864 patent. (As far as I can tell, Lilly didn’t raise the issue.) The district court dismissed their first amended complaint, pointing out that FDA has interpreted “drug products” to include “prefilled drug delivery systems” and that patents claiming drug products must be listed. The plaintiffs amended their complaint, but the district court dismissed again on largely the same grounds. Under a “reasonable interpretation” of the agency’s regulations, Sanofi had to submit the patent for listing. So, it couldn’t have been improper conduct to list the patent.

The First Circuit’s ruling came as a shock. In a unanimous decision, Judge Kayatta wrote that Sanofi had improperly listed the patent. He reasoned as follows. First, the statute and regulations call for listing of patents that claim the drug, and the patent doesn’t even mention the drug. Second, in 2003 FDA didn’t adopt the proposal that devices “integral” to the product should be listed. Instead, the agency said that companies should list patents that claim the finished dosage form. And this patent doesn’t, the court wrote; it claims a device that can be combined with other components to produce the finished dosage form.

Finally, the implications.

The innovative pharmaceutical industry has asked FDA repeatedly since 2003 — at least four times, including in citizen petitions — to clarify whether patents directed to drug delivery systems are supposed to be listed, if they don’t recite the drug’s active ingredient or formulation. The agency never answered these requests.

Although FDA’s failure to respond has been frustrating, it is my understanding that most companies — consulting with patent and regulatory counsel — have concluded these patents should be listed and that, in fact, they list them, and FDA publishes them. I have always thought this was the best reading of what FDA wrote in 2003. At the very least, it is a reasonable reading of what FDA wrote. It is deeply concerning that the First Circuit now purports to answer this question for the agency — no, these patents do not satisfy the listing standard — in litigation to which FDA was not a party and could not explain its interpretation of the statute or its expectations.

The decision is also fundamentally hostile to pharmaceutical innovators. The Hatch-Waxman scheme — statute, regulations, guidance, and precedent — is complex, and figuring out how it applies in any particular situation can be tricky. There are other unresolved listing issues, which companies and their counsel work through in good faith. The lesson here seems to be that an innovator trying to navigate uncertainty about the listing requirements does so at its peril.

On the one hand, failing to list a patent that satisfies the criteria has serious consequences. Listing is not voluntary; the statute requires it. The company must declare (“under penalty of perjury”) that its patent submission is “accurate and complete.” The patent submission form reminds the company that “a willfully and knowingly false statement is a criminal offense” under 18 U.S.C. § 1001. (And at least in theory, FDA would reject an application that lacked the required patent information, though I don’t know if this has ever happened or if it would happen.) Most importantly, failing to list a patent means there is no paragraph 4 certification, and thus no artificial act of infringement, and no opportunity to enforce the patent before generic market launch. Failing to list also passes up the benefit of the 30-month stay. And there may be concern that failure to list a patent is some sort of admission against the innovator’s interests in litigation.

On the other hand, listing a patent that doesn’t satisfy the criteria attracts antitrust scrutiny, presumably because the listing places an administrative burden on generic applicants and might trigger a stay of approval. And this case shows that a hostile court may disagree with the company’s reading of the statute, regulations, Federal Register, and precedent. Even if a company adopts what appears to many to be a reasonable interpretation of the patent listing requirements, a court might interpret the listing requirements on its own — without the benefits of FDA’s views — and force the company into expensive and time-consuming antitrust litigation. Indeed, two bloggers recently praised the decision, recommending that generic companies “examine the Orange Book listings,” as they may contain a “rich vein” for antitrust claims.

To be sure, as the court wrote, Sanofi can try to show, on remand, that its submission was “the result of a reasonable, good-faith attempt to comply with the Hatch-Waxman scheme.” This would provide a defense to any liability under the Sherman Act for “antitrust injury caused by” the submission. But the burden has shifted to the company, and much of the language in the court’s opinion suggests that this will be an uphill battle. (E.g., “The statute and regulations clearly require that only patents that claim the drug for which the NDA is submitted should be listed in the Orange Book. The ’864 patent … does not fit the bill.”)

A postscript from the administrative law side of the table.

Consider a counterfactual.

As a preliminary matter, recall that FDA’s regulations require companies to list patents on drug products. These regulations also state that the phrase “drug product” refers to a drug in its “finished dosage form.” FDA has said, for years, that a patent claiming a finished dosage form “must be submitted for listing.” Finally, it has listed prefilled drug delivery systems as a type of “dosage form” in the Orange Book.

Now suppose that FDA had responded to the industry requests for clarification and stated definitively — given what I just wrote — that a patent claiming any component of a prefilled syringe must be listed? In my view, this would be a defensible position for the agency to have taken, given the statute, the regulations, and what it has written to date.

What would have happened if this hypothetical FDA decision had gone to the First Circuit for review, in a totally different kind of lawsuit? Would the First Circuit really conclude that the agency’s interpretation of the statute was unreasonable or impermissible (Chevron)? Would it really conclude that the agency’s interpretation of its regulation was “plainly erroneous or inconsistent with the regulation” (Auer)? And if we think that the courts would (or should) defer to FDA in this hypothetical case, how can Sanofi’s decision possibly have been unreasonable?

In the end, the First Circuit’s ruling contains a troubling lesson for pharmaceutical innovators. When navigating uncertainty about a patent’s status under the patent listing requirements, even if it seems reasonable to conclude that FDA would require listing and even if the agency won’t answer the question, listing the patent in good faith creates a serious risk of facing antitrust litigation. The alternative, equally unappealing, is to relinquish the opportunity to enforce the patent before generic market entry, which conflicts with the purpose and design of the Hatch-Waxman Amendments and undermines the value of the patent.

Categories
Biotech Patents Pharma

“No Combination Drug Patents Act” Stalls, but Threats to Innovation Remain

superimposed images from a chemistry labBy Kevin Madigan & Sean O’Connor

This week, the Senate Judiciary Committee was to mark up a bill limiting patent eligibility for combination drug patents—new forms, uses, and administrations of FDA approved medicines. While the impetus was to curb so-called “evergreening” of drug patents, the effect would have been to stifle life-saving therapeutic innovations. Though the “No Combination Drug Patents Act”—reportedly to be introduced by Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC)—was wisely withdrawn at the last minute, it’s likely not the last time that such a misconceived legislative effort will be introduced.

An Exaggerated Response to a Disputed Theory

The bill would have established a presumption of obviousness for drug or biologic patent applications whose invention was a new: dosing regimen, method of delivery, method of treatment, or formulation. While there was a rebuttal provision where the claim covered a new treatment for a new indication or “increase[d] . . . efficacy,” the latter was almost certain to introduce years of uncertainty and litigation. Further, the bill would have covered a broader class than true combination drug patents, in which one active ingredient is combined with another or with a non-drug.

Like many recent legislative efforts, the amendment sought to address a perceived lack of affordability of prescription drugs. After praising the America Invents Act of 2011 and subsequent Supreme Court rulings for strengthening the US patent system, the bill claimed that rising drug prices have outpaced “spending on research and development with respect to those drugs.” In addition to applauding Supreme Court decisions that have injected unquestionable uncertainty into patentable subject matter standards, the amendment went on to blame high drug prices on continually overstated issues related to advanced drug patents.

According to critics, combination drug patents have granted drug makers unearned and extended protection over existing drugs or biological products. But, quite simply, when properly issued by the USPTO under existing patentability standards, these are new patents for new products or processes.

Combination patents have been maligned as anticompetitive, resulting in a “thicket” of patents that impedes innovation through transaction costs and other inefficiencies. Unfortunately, notwithstanding a lack of empirical evidence validating the harm of follow-on innovation patents, patent thicket rhetoric is now being echoed by the media, the academy, courts, and policy makers in a fraught attempt to fix drug pricing.

Reports (see here, here, here, and here) from leading antitrust experts and intellectual property scholars have detailed the value of incremental innovation and challenged the notion that patent thickets are a true threat to competition and innovation. These studies have exposed patent thicket claims—much like the “troll” narrative that for years infected patent law debates—as an empty strawman theory, the repetition of which has led to undue confidence in its accuracy. The reality is that what critics point to as problematic cases of combination patents are in fact infrequent outliers, strategically highlighted to discount evidence of the value of new and innovative drug uses and administrations.

A similar claim by those promoting the patent thicket narrative is that combination patents extend exclusivity on a drug for years beyond an initial patent term, thereby blocking generic entry in the market. But if an underlying drug has gone off patent, no follow-on or combination patent will prevent a generic drug company from producing the underlying formulation—it’s only the new formulation, use, or administration that is protected.

Vague, Yet Oddly Familiar Standards

The language of the Graham amendment asserted that because “numerous” combination patents “contain obvious product developments,” a restructuring of 35 USC 103 is necessary to combat patent thickets and achieve optimal drug pricing. Suggesting that 103 obvious standards for advanced drug development should include a presumption that the covered claimed invention and the prior art to which it relates would have been obvious, the legislation would have undermined a unitary system of patent law in favor of different standards for different fields of technology. It was a bold proposal, and it’s one that ignored the proven value of new drug formulations and methods of treatment.

While the amendment provided for a rebuttal to the presumption of obviousness, the language was ambiguous and likely to render the patent system even more unreliable than it already is. The proposed statute said that an applicant may rebut the presumption of obviousness if the covered claimed invention “results in a statistically significant increase in the efficacy of the drug or biological product that the covered claimed invention contains or uses.” It is unclear what would qualify as “statistically significant,” and proving this vague standard would be nearly impossible.

In order to show a “statistically significant increase in efficacy,” long and costly head-to-head clinical trials would be necessary. To be clear, this is not a standard required by the FDA for new drug approval, let alone patentability.

As if that wasn’t enough reason to reject the Graham amendment, the language was alarmingly similar to that of an Indian patent law statute that has been recognized by the US Trade Representative as a “major obstacle to innovators.” In 2005, in order to comply with the WTO’s Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) agreement, India adopted for the first time patent protection for pharmaceuticals. Despite its recognition of IP rights in pharmaceuticals, India’s Act contains a troubling ambiguity in its Section 3(d), which requires an “enhanced efficacy” for known drugs in addition to the standard novelty, inventive step, and industrial applicability requirements.

India’s Section 3(d) has been invoked to reject patent protection for life-saving drug innovations, including Novartis’ landmark leukemia drug, Gleevec. Drug companies, government agencies, and policy makers have all recognized the threat to innovation that India’s patent law poses. In 2013, not long after the Novartis ruling, a bipartisan group of 40 Senators signed a letter to then Secretary of State John Kerry urging the state department to take action against India’s “deteriorating IP environment,” citing its willingness to “break or revoke patents for nearly a dozen lifesaving medications.”

Despite the widespread condemnation of India’s Section 3(d), the Graham amendment proposed adopting similarly indefinable standards to US patent law. While the language differed slightly—replacing “enhanced efficacy” with “increase in the efficacy”—it was no clearer, and implementation of this type of standard would only cause more confusion.

Protecting and Incentivizing Medical Innovation

Like most forms of innovation, the development of medicines and therapeutics is a process by which one builds and improves upon previous discoveries and breakthroughs. Sometimes those improvements are major advancements, but often they are incremental steps forward. In the pharmaceutical field, incremental or follow-on innovation frequently results in new therapeutic uses for existing drugs, which address serious challenges related to adverse effects, delivery systems, and dosing schedules. While they might not sound like medical breakthroughs on par with the discovery of penicillin, these advancements in the administration and use of pharmaceuticals improve public health and save lives.

Additionally, follow-on innovations are—and should remain—subject to the same patentability standards as any other technologies. Patents reward advancements that are novel, useful, and nonobvious, and our patent system has long recognized that patent claims are to be presumed patentable and nonobvious. The Graham amendment would have turned this established standard on its head, creating a separate and ill-defined hurdle for certain advancements in medicine.

The benefits of incremental innovation to public health and patients cannot be overstated. New formulations of malaria drugs, dosing regimens and delivery systems for AIDS patients, more efficient administrations of insulin for the treatment of diabetes, and developments in the treatment of cognitive heart disease have all been possible because of incremental innovation.

Imposing unjustified restrictions on the patentability of advancements like these would be disastrous for drug development, as the incentives that come with patent protection would be all but eliminated. Without the assurance that their innovative labor would be supported by intellectual property protection, pioneering drug developers would shift resources away from improving drug formulations and uses. The development of more effective treatments of some of the most devastating diseases would stall, as innovators would be unable to commercialize their products, recoup losses, or fund future research and development.

As critics continue to target myopically the patent system for a broader issue of drug prices in the American health care system, it’s likely not the last time that language like this will be proposed. In order to avoid the implementation of such ill-conceived standards into our patent laws, understanding what’s at stake is critical. The future of medical innovation depends on it.

Categories
FTC Innovation

Unverified Theory Continues to Inform FTC’s Policies Toward Patent Owners

dictionary entry for the word "innovate"The Federal Trade Commission’s unfair competition case against Qualcomm, Inc., has now concluded. The parties gave their closing arguments on Tuesday, January 29, and all that remains is Judge Lucy Koh’s ruling. To prevail, the FTC needed to demonstrate actual, quantifiable harm. It completely failed to do so.

The FTC’s complaint charged Qualcomm with using anticompetitive tactics to maintain its alleged monopoly position as a supplier of certain baseband processors (chips that manage cellular communications in mobile products). Specifically, the FTC alleged that Qualcomm engaged in “exclusionary conduct” through a “no license, no chips” policy in which it supplied CDMA[1] and Premium LTE chips[2] only on the condition that cell phone manufacturers agreed to Qualcomm’s license terms. The FTC claimed that Qualcomm’s conduct reduced competitors’ ability and incentive to innovate and raised prices paid by consumers for cellular devices.

In support of this position, the FTC offered Carl Shapiro, an Economics Professor from Berkeley, as an expert witness. Shapiro argued that Qualcomm’s “no license, no chips” policy gave it the market power to demand “supra-FRAND”[3] royalties. He claimed these royalties harmed competition by raising rivals’ costs, weakening them as competitors, and deterring them from doing R&D. Shapiro asserted that Qualcomm had monopoly power over CDMA and Premium LTE markets through 2016.

There are (at least) two glaring errors regarding the FTC’s and Shapiro’s arguments. First, the relevant market definitions for “CDMA” and “Premium LTE” chips are fatally flawed. Regarding CDMA, the FTC defined the relevant market solely as CDMA chips, yet the market includes both CDMA and WCDMA[4] chips, with WCDMA selling 5x more chips than CDMA. Regarding Premium LTE, there is no “premium” chip market separate from other mobile chips. What the FTC and Shapiro define as “premium” actually represents the end-result of a normal product evolution where newer, more innovative chips are incorporated first into higher-end devices. And even if one considers only Premium LTE chips, Qualcomm had a first-mover advantage because it invented the technology. A first-mover advantage is not an antitrust violation. The result of both flawed market definitions is an economic theoretical shell-game to divert attention from the fact that there is simply no evidence of harm to the properly defined actual market.[5]

And this leads to the second and even more critical point: the FTC presented no real-world evidence of harm to competitors or consumers from Qualcomm’s alleged exclusionary conduct. If R&D had been deterred by Qualcomm’s licensing practices, as Shapiro argued, he should have been able to identify at least one actual example.[6] Under his theory, the lack of ongoing R&D and harm to competitors should have resulted in an increasing number of inferior cell phones provided by a decreasing number of companies. To the contrary, more and more competitors have been entering the chip market with more and more innovations as cellular technology has advanced from 3G to 4G. Cell phone quality has dramatically increased over time, without concomitant quality-adjusted price increases.[7]

Notwithstanding the flawed market definition and lack of harm, the FTC has misconstrued the underlying basis for Qualcomm’s “no license, no chips” licensing policy, teeing it up as objectively anticompetitive and onerous. Yet, Qualcomm’s policy simply seeks to prevent “patent holdout” as a legitimate business strategy. Without this policy, device manufacturers could build phones using Qualcomm’s chips, then simply refuse to pay Qualcomm for its telecommunications patents. Qualcomm’s only recourse would be to sue for patent infringement, while the device manufacturers continue to profit from use of the chips. The “no-license, no chips” policy ensures that device manufacturers negotiate necessary patent licenses before receiving chips to build phones.

Assistant Attorney General for the Department of Justice, Makan Delrahim, has stated that condemning this kind of licensing practice, in isolation, as an antitrust violation, while ignoring equal incentives for patent holdout, “risks creating ‘false positive’ errors of over-enforcement that would discourage valuable innovation.” (Delrahim also recently criticized the FTC’s entire case saying that disputes about patent licensing should not be decided by antitrust law.)

The FTC, its experts, and its industry witnesses, however, are basically advocating for patent holdout as a legally legitimate, even preferable, strategy for dealing with patent owners like Qualcomm. Professor Shapiro’s model, in particular, advanced patent holdout in lieu of up-front patent licensing. Shapiro would require a patent owner to wait and then sue for infringement as a prerequisite to any license negotiations. But forcing the patent owner to pursue judicial recourse through a time-consuming and costly patent infringement suit leverages the cost of litigation to artificially decrease the ultimate reward to the patentee.

At the close of this case, one is left wondering why. Why did the FTC pursue a “midnight” filing at the tail end of the Obama Administration, just days before President Trump took office? Why did the FTC pursue the case over Commissioner Ohlhausen’s strong dissent in which she argued that the case was based on a flawed legal theory “that lacks economic and evidentiary support” and that “by its mere issuance, will undermine U.S. intellectual property rights in Asia and worldwide”? And finally, why is the FTC attempting to cripple Qualcomm in the developing 5G technological space in favor of China’s Huawei[8], which will result in actual, quantifiable harm to the U.S.’s competitive advantage over China?


[1] CDMA, which stands for “code-division multiple access,” permits several transmitters to send information over a single communication channel and is a second generation (2G) network used in mobile device.

[2] LTE, which stands for “long term evolution,” is a fourth generation (4G) standard for high-speed wireless communication used in mobile devices.

[3] FRAND stands for “fair, reasonable, and non-discriminatory.”

[4] WCDMA stands for “wide band code division multiple access.” It is a third generation (3G) network used in mobile devices.

[5] This is the same game the FTC played in the 1990s with Microsoft where the FTC defined the relevant market as operating systems for IBM compatible PCs, but that argument only worked if one excluded Apple, Linux, and other operating systems. These type of games about defining the relevant market are common in the high-tech context, and the FTC is repeating it here.

[7] “Several empirical studies demonstrate that the observed pattern in high-tech industries, especially in the smartphone industry, is one of constant lower quality-adjusted prices, increased entry and competition, and higher performance standards.” See: https://cip2.gmu.edu/wp-content/uploads/sites/31/2018/02/Letter-to-DOJ-Supporting-Evidence-Based-Approach-to-Antitrust-Enforcement-of-IP.pdf.

[8] One also wonders why the FTC relied so heavily on Huawei’s testimony in this case given the Trump Administration’s repeated concerns about this company culminating in the Department of Justice’s recent 10-count indictment against Huawei for theft of trade secrets, wire fraud, and obstruction of justice.

Categories
Inventors Patent Law

Qualcomm Founder Dr. Irwin M. Jacobs Delights Attendees at CPIP’s Sixth Annual Fall Conference

2018 Fall Conference flyerBy Kathleen Wills*

On October 11-12, 2018, the Center for the Protection of Intellectual Property (CPIP) hosted its Sixth Annual Fall Conference at Antonin Scalia Law School in Arlington, Virginia. The theme of the conference was IP for the Next Generation of Technology, and it featured a number of panel discussions and presentations on how IP rights and institutions can foster the next great technological advances.

In addition to the many renowned scholars and industry professionals who lent their expertise to the event, the conference’s keynote address was delivered by Dr. Irwin M. Jacobs, founder of Qualcomm Inc. and inventor of the digital transmission technology for cell phones that gave birth to the smartphone revolution. The video of Dr. Jacobs’ keynote address, embedded just below, is also available here, and the transcript is available here.

After beginning his career as an electrical engineer and professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), Dr. Jacobs’ vision for the future of wireless communications drove him to found his first company, Linkabit, in the late 1960s. In the years that followed, Dr. Jacobs led teams that developed the first microprocessor-based satellite modem and scrambling systems for video and TV transmissions. In 1985, Dr. Jacobs founded Qualcomm, which pioneered the development of mobile satellite communications and digital wireless telephony on the national and international stage.

Dr. Jacobs’ keynote address focused on intellectual property’s role in the development of technology throughout his 50-year career. He began his speech by discussing his background in electrical engineering and academia at MIT and at the University of California, San Diego (UCSD). After publishing a textbook on digital communications, Dr. Jacobs explained that he then transitioned into consulting and started Linkabit, where he learned the importance of intellectual property.

Dr. Jacobs recounted how he later sold the company to start Qualcomm with the “mobile situation” of satellite communications on his mind. At Qualcomm, Dr. Jacobs wanted to break from the standard technology in favor of code-division multiple access (CDMA). CDMA had the potential to attract more users with a system that limited the total amount of interference affecting each channel, and it wasn’t long before Qualcomm was assigned the first patent on the new technology.

Qualcomm’s first product was Omnitracs, a small satellite terminal designed for communicating with dishes that led to the creation of a GPS system. Qualcomm’s patented GPS device used antenna technology to calculate locations based on information about the terrain, and it was very valuable to the company.

Using that source of income, Dr. Jacobs revisited CDMA at a time when the industry pursued time-division multiple access (TDMA) for supporting the shift to second-generation digital cellular technology. However, Dr. Jacobs knew that CDMA had the potential to support 10 to 20 times more subscribers in a given frequency band per antenna than TDMA. Within one year, Qualcomm built a demonstration of CDMA. At that time, the size of the mobile phone was large enough to need a van to drive it around!

Dr. Jacobs explained that commercializing the technology required an investment for chips, and it wasn’t long before AT&T, Motorola, and some other companies signed up for a license. Qualcomm decided to license every patent for the next “n” years to avoid future licensing issues and collect a small royalty. The industry eventually set up a meeting comparing TDMA to CDMA, and CDMA’s successful demonstration convinced the Cellular Telephone Industry Association to allow a second standard. A standards-setting process took place and, a year and a half later, the first standard issuance was completed in July of 1993.

Speaking on the push for CDMA, Dr. Jacob’s explained that there were “religious wars” in Europe because governments had agreed to only use an alternate type of technology. Nevertheless, CDMA continued to spread to other countries and rose to the international stage during talks about the third generation of cellular technology involving simultaneous voice and data transmissions. Dr. Jacobs visited the European Commissioner for Competition and eventually arranged an agreement with Ericsson around 1999 based on a strategic decision: instead of manufacturing CDMA phones in San Diego, there would be manufacturers everywhere in the world.

Selling the infrastructure to Ericsson, Qualcomm dove into the technology, funded by the licenses. The strategic decision to embed technology in chips in order to sell the software broadly has been Qualcomm’s business model ever since. Dr. Jacobs explained that since “we felt we had well-protected patents,” and had a steady income from the licenses, the team could do additional R&D. With that support, they were the first to put GPS technology into a chip and into a phone, developed the first application downloadable for the phone, and looked ahead at the next generation of technology.

Dr. Jacobs said that he’s often asked, “Did you anticipate where all of this might go?” To that question he replies, “Every so often.” Qualcomm was able to move the industry forward because of the returns generated through its intellectual property. Dr. Jacobs early realized that the devices people were carrying around everywhere were going to be very powerful computers, and that “it’s probably going to be the only computer most of us need several years from now.”

“Protecting intellectual property, having that available, is very critical for what was then a very small company being able to grow,” Dr. Jacobs said. Because Dr. Jacobs relied on secure intellectual property rights to commercialize and license innovative products, and in turn used income from licensing patents for R&D, Qualcomm was—and continues to be—able to prioritize high performance computing and to keep the cellular technology industry moving forward.

To watch the video of Dr. Jacobs’ keynote address, please click here, and to read the transcript, please click here.

*Kathleen Wills is a 2L at Antonin Scalia Law School, and she works as a Research Assistant at CPIP

Categories
Legislation Patent Law Uncategorized

Rep. Massie Introduces New Legislation to Restore America’s Patent System

dictionary entry for the word "legislation"Yesterday, Representative Thomas Massie introduced the Restoring America’s Leadership in Innovation Act of 2018 (H.R. 6264). This legislation would reverse many of the harms that have been caused by recent changes to the patent laws from all three branches of government. Patents are an important part of our innovation economy, providing an incentive for inventors to invent and protecting those creations for commercialization and investment.

Unfortunately, the past decade has witnessed the gradual weakening of our patent system. The America Invents Act (AIA) created new post-issuance methods for reviewing patent validity on top of the review that already occurred in federal courts. The Supreme Court has handed down case after case weakening patents and excluding broad swaths of innovation from the patent system entirely. The USPTO, through the Patent Trial and Appeal Board (PTAB), has been systematically invalidating worthwhile patents based on flawed procedures that are easily abused. Together, these changes have done substantial damage to our innovation economy.,

This new bill will reverse many of these recent changes. Although some of the proposals are new, most are merely the codification of what had long been the law for the patent system. The following provides a breakdown of the most important sections of this legislation:

    • Section 3 (the first substantive section), returns the United States to a first to invent patent system. As noted by CPIP Founder Adam Mossoff, giving patents to the first inventor rewards the intellectual labor that results in the invention. This conception of patents as private property rights protecting the innovator’s creation is arguably required by the Patent Clause of the Constitution, and thus, this Act will bring patent laws back within constitutional limits. Conversely, a first to file system merely rewards those who can win a race to the Patent Office.
    • Section 4 abolishes Inter Partes Review (IPR) and Post-Grant Review (PGR). In addition to covered business method review, which was created with a sunset provision, these procedures allow the Patent Office to cancel at patent it has previously issued. Numerous scholars have identified the substantial harms caused by the PTAB. The problems have been so extensive that other legislation focused on trying to fix these procedures has been introduced. This bill goes the necessary next step. Because these procedures fundamentally undermine the status of patents as private property, the bill eliminates IPR and PGR entirely.
    • Section 5 abolishes the PTAB. The PTAB is a terrible example of regulatory overreach. In light of the elimination of IPR and PGR and the return to a first to file system, the creation of the PTAB by the AIA to administer these systems serves no purpose. The legislation instead recreates the Board of Patent Appeals and Interferences, which existed prior to the AIA and handled the administrative appeals and trials that occurred under the prior system. This change also overrules the holding of Oil States v. Greene’s Energy and accomplishes legislatively the outcome of a CPIP led amicus brief in that case.
    • Section 6 eliminates fee diversion and provides for full funding of the USPTO. Innovators and the public alike count on the USPTO to perform timely, quality examinations of patent applications in the first instance. Ensuring that adequate resources are available for this purpose is essential, particularly given that applicants pay fees to the USPTO for precisely this purpose.
    • Section 8 is mainly technical to assure that the restored § 102 retains the one-year grace period and that certain disclosures by the inventor do not become prior art.
    • Section 9 reestablishes the previously long-held status of patents as a property right. The Constitution secures a patent as a property right and many scholars have noted the important implications of treating patents as property. This section not only states that a patent is a property right, but confirms that a patent may only be revoked in a judicial proceeding, which has substantial benefits, unless the patent owner consents to another procedure. This reverses the broad reasoning in Oil States. The parts of this section returning to patent owners the right to control their property also largely overturn Impression Products v. Lexmark International, now allowing patent owners to exclude unlicensed users from their supply chains.
    • Section 10 ends the automatic publication of patent applications. This change will allow applicants to keep their inventions secret until they have the security that comes with an issued patent.
    • Section 11 codifies the details of the presumption of validity and available defenses to patent infringement. For the first time, this will enshrine in statute that the “clear and convincing standard” must be used to invalidate a patent. Additionally, this section provides for tolling of the patent term during litigation challenging the patent’s validity.
    • Section 12 confirms that injunctions are available to protect the patent property. Although not explicit, the new statutory presumption that infringement of patent causes irreparable harm largely abrogates the Supreme Court’s decision in eBay, which dramatically limited the availability of injunctions. Furthermore, having this rule placed into the statute will limit the inter-court variability that has led to inconsistent outcomes.
    • Section 13 restores the possibility of invalidating a patent for failure to comply with the best mode requirement.