The magic of an exhibition

Chocolate, intellectual property and stolen pens… you may think you can’t afford the time out of the lab, but many an interesting tale can be heard at an exhibition says Russ Swan…

They’re not like the rest of us, lawyers. I found myself at a regional life sciences event at a provincial university, having dropped in out of interest in one of the topics being discussed. As is the way with these things, the academic part of the day was augmented by a few exhibition stands spread out across the foyer.

If you’ve ever done stand duty, you may share my sympathy with the hapless souls co-opted (or press-ganged) into this role. It might look like a jolly, or at least an escape from the bench for a day or two, but the reality is distinctly unglamorous.

For a start, it can be incredibly boring. Conference delegates may only be seen during a short parole for coffee and lunch, and the rest of the time the conversational opportunities are limited to the other stand monkeys. When a delegate does pass by, they are probably either looking for the loo or responding to an urgent message from work, or possibly both. It’s a sure thing that being waylaid for a sales pitch is near the bottom of their to-do list.

Nevertheless, as an ambassador for your employer you stand and fix the rictus grin, hoping against hope to might make a worthwhile contact and score a brownie point back at the office

Nevertheless, as an ambassador for your employer you stand and fix the rictus grin, hoping against hope to might make a worthwhile contact and score a brownie point back at the office. Back at the office, where your inbox continues to fill and who knows what disasters are taking place in your absence.

Being an empathetic soul, I try to make a twirl through these exhibition spaces and spark up a few conversations. It’s only polite to engage in a little chit-chat while pocketing the stationery and capsules of jelly beans, after all. And sometimes, just sometimes, you learn something. On this occasion, it was not so much what was being said as who it was being said by that proved most interesting. There were about 20 stands, of which a handful were representing the university we were already inside, or some government body on a flag-waving mission. Of the remainder, few had a physical product to flog and most were promoting a service of some sort.

What does a firm with the word ‘innovation’ in its name do? The joke’s on you if you think it might do any, you know, inventing or anything like that. This title device has been taken over by a specialist type of consultant that promises to help secure grants and other funding. An inventive accountant for inventors, if you like.

The road to the patent office is truly paved with good inventions

The thing that really surprised me, though, was that these were outnumbered by the lawyers – more specifically patent attorneys, who made up fully 20 per cent of the actual exhibitors. Each had on parade their brightest and most engaging young people, and doubtless each hoped to provide their services to help secure the intellectual property around some medical or scientific breakthrough. The road to the patent office is truly paved with good inventions.

By sheer coincidence, this was the day that judgement was passed down in a high-profile copyright case (although the height of its profile may have had something to with it being a rare non-partisan story at a time when election fatigue was setting in). The manufacturer of a well-known four-fingered chocolate bar wanted to protect the very configuration of its confection, so that any rivals using a similar format would have to make changes. In patent attorney circles, this is known as a ‘shape mark’. I thought that was something left on the sofa after standing up.

The ruling went against the claim or, as one wag put it, the judge stuck two fingers up to KitKat. Inevitably, when striking up a conversation with a trademark lawyer that day, the topic arose. And here’s the funny thing: while every scientist, friend, and family member I discussed the matter with agreed that it was a daft attempt to claim copyright over the shape of a chocolate bar, every one of the patent attorneys took a different view. Some actually looked crestfallen when they learned the news.

The IP crowd make their living arguing for copyright and trademark awards, so perhaps their reaction shouldn’t surprise me. But it did, almost as much as a sight last winter. It was so cold, I saw a lawyer with his hands in his own pockets.

Russ Swan