The
Professional
Approach
The trials of a patent lawyer are
usually highly technical tribulations—
and among the greatest is the fact
that Inventors are only slightly less
predictable than their Inventions!
by Leonard Lockhard
Illustrated by Schoenherr
"Sometimes," said Helix Spardleton,Esquire, "a patent case gets awayfrom you. As the attorney in the case,you never quite see it the same aseverybody else. You stand isolatedand alone, unable to persuade the PatentExaminers, the Board, the courts,possibly even the inventor, to acceptyour view of the case. Nothing youdo or say matches anyone else's thinking,and you begin to wonder what'sthe matter with everyone."
I nodded. This was my favoritetime of day. It was early evening inWashington, D.C., and my boss, HelixSpardleton, patent attorney extraordinary,was relaxing. His feetwere up on one corner of his desk,his cigar was in the ContemplationPosition, and the smoke curled slowlytoward the ceiling. His office wasa good room in which to relax. It wasfilled with fine, old well-scratchedfurniture, and the walls were linedwith books, and there was the comfortablepicture of Justice Holmes onthe wall looking down with rare approvalon what he saw. Susan, oursecretary, had made the last coffee ofthe day, and had kicked off her shoesthe better to enjoy it. The three of usjust sat in the deepening dusk, andtalked. We didn't even turn on alight. It was a shame I wasn't payingclose attention to Mr. Spardleton.
I said, "Yes, I know what you meanabout other people's not seeing thingsthe same way you do. I've seen somethinglike it at work with some of myfriends just before they get married.They think their brides are just aboutthe most beautiful women in theworld, when they are really quitehomely—wouldn't even hold a candleto our Susan here."
Mr. Spardleton looked at me andthen at Susan, and Susan looked athim and then at me in that soberwide-eyed way she has, and then theylooked at each other and smiled. Iguess they realized that I had saidsomething pretty funny.
Mr. Spardleton said, "I understandwhy you think of the situation interms of brides, but I always think ofit in terms of a proud father who seesnothing but perfection in his newbornson."
"Yes," I said, "that's a good way toput it, too."
"There are," he continued througha cloud of gentle smoke, "two differentways in which a patent case canget away from the attorney. The firstdoesn't happen very often, but whenit does it has a tendency to set theworld on fire. That's the case that hastrue merit to it—high invention, ifyou will—but the invention is sosubtle that nobody can see its importance.Only the attorney whowraps the case around his heart canappreciate its vast potential. He goesthrough the prosecution before thePatent Office and possibly before thecourts shouting high praises of theinvention, but all the tribunals turn adeaf ear. Sometimes the attorneyfinally reaches Nirvana; the inventioncomes into its own. It shakes theworld, just as the attorney had alwaysknown it would."
I nodded and said, "Elias Howeand his sewing machine, McCormickand his reaper, Colt and his pistol."Mr. Spardleton had taught me well.
"The other way is more common,"he continued. "There the attorneynever sees the case in its true light.He is blinded by something in it andthinks it is greater than it is. Hewastes a lot of time trying to persuadeeverybody that this very o